This time, Aaron joined me.
The field behind is hidden behind a curtain of snow.
I put all the Halloween decorations on one shelf. Maybe I like it like that, maybe it’s easier to gather it all and put it away on November 1.
We watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown on the weekend. My husband gets up as it starts and begins washing the breakfast dishes. I tell him not to worry about them, come watch with us. Afterwards, he fesses up that he’s not a big fan of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
It’s like finding out he lied about his age or never really liked my chili or hadn’t broken off with that girl yet when I met him like he told me he had.
“You don’t?” I ask.
“I don’t like it as much as A Charlie Brown’s Christmas,” he tells me.
“You rank them?”
This from the man who can never tell his kids who his favourite Avenger is or Star Wars movie or member of the Fantastic Four.
Our backyard tree. It has decided to change leaf colour from the outside in. Remains green inside. Like the dark/grey roots coming in on my head except the opposite.
This tree looked near dying nine years back after my husband dug its big hole and stuck it in. He always felt he hadn’t done it right and watched it carefully after that. The next winter little animals started devouring its bark.
We covered it with plastic and netting.
It is a symbol of strength and beauty. To which we all aspire, I guess.
I have a ridiculous habit of stressing about a bad thing that happens during the day. My husband says: Tell me three good things that happened today.
I do. Sometimes I can come up with many more than three.
Then he says: See?
Most times, the big bad thing seems not so big or bad anymore.
Going out to play catch now.
On Thursdays, the kids have art class. I feed them and then pack a dinner for my husband and me. Sandwiches with chicken or ham and cheese and tomato, salt and vinegar chips, pickles and salad sealed in tupperware. When I pack big cans of Arizona iced tea, he wonders if people might think we are drinking from King Cans.
Mixing it up in the Glen Dhu parking lot.
We watch birds and cats and rabbits from the car and eat and talk over the day. The kids come back giggly and productive. Our tummies are full.
This is one of my favourite hours of the week.Print
The top of my husband’s dresser.
His clock radio. His box of important paper and the cat brush. The head made of stone.
There is a cough candy stuck in his mouth right now. Often we stick other things in his eyes, nose or mouth – pennies, rings, subway tokens, a tiny tube of cold sore medication.
During the night, if I am awake, I look over at my husband’s dresser a lot. What time is it now?
The stone head looks back at me always in perpetual shock.Print