Day three seeing the crazy jogger. Today it was groceries and a Walkman. No phone in sight. She really needs an iPhone.
When Rocket began taking two naps a day, it meant we were stuck home on the morning that the cleaning lady, Princess Jasmine, comes. It is awkward, for both us and her. Actually it is probably more of a pain for Jasmine because she likes to listen to Spanish talk radio when she works, but doesn't do it while we are home. I've told her she could play her radio when we are home because it doesn't bother me, but out of courtesy she does not. She told me several weeks ago that no one is ever home when she cleans other houses, so she likes to talk a little with us, especially for the English practice. (Even though I wish she'd speak Spanish to Clover, who has announced to Jasmine that she speaks Spanish and will then count to ten to prove it. To a native, fluent speaker, Spanish knowledge gleaned from Dora the Explorer isn't so impressive.)
Initially, I would work hard while Jasmine was here, cleaning up too to assuage my guilt, but Rocket is somehow attuned to my footsteps, so I try to stay far from his bedroom during nap times. This leaves me stuck in my office, pretending to look busy on the computer. I must spend a lot of time doing this because Clover always tells people that I "work on computers" as my job.
This morning Jasmine brought Rocket a birthday gift: two paintings of rockets that match his room perfectly. It was very thoughtful and kind...but, they are just not my style because they say "outer space" in odd, ugly writing on the bottom. We've run into this issue for the last two Christmases when she gives us a gift (despite me telling her to not give us anything) that is for the house, but it completely clashes with our likes. Each time I am faced with whether I should put the item out or not. I'll leave the pictures in Rocket's room for awhile because they mostly match and it was very nice, but at what point can I get rid of them? For Christmas, her daughter-in-law embroidered a dish towel with large purple flowers. I put that out every few Fridays for Jasmine to see, but other than that, it stays in a drawer.
I am sure Jasmine thinks we are nuts. I would love to listen in on her talking about us to get the scoop. I am sitting on my ass while she races around me, working hard, spraying god knows what into the air. (She bypasses my low-to-no-chemical products by sneaking in some of her own - I have to open all the windows after she leaves).
I had written much more about Jasmine's story, but I don't want this to be political, so I'll leave it at this: she works very hard, she is here legally, but she dreams of returning home.





