The garbage bins and the paper and the recycling were at the curb when I turned in to my driveway after work on Wednesday night. The inside front door and the garage door were both wide open. The barbecue was on. The sat-radio was blaring away. There was a half-naked man in my kitchen.
Well, that sure beats coming home to a quiet empty house.
Yes, W is home for a while. He drove through four provinces in two days to get here because there’s too much damned rain in Ontario. Also, he thinks he needs to be here with me to face the scary appointments and doctors at the University hospital. This works for me. Plus he shops for groceries and he cooks and he cleans up the dishes. He pours my wine.
Speaking of wine, this one from B.C. is devilishly good, just like the label says. Or my taste buds have fermented and gone to hell. It’s a toss-up really. All I know for sure is that I’m not telling you how much of it I consumed in the three hours between getting home and going to bed.
Today I went and got a seasonal haircut. By that I mean there’s no guessing now about the size of my ears. The weather is lovely and hot and I’ve got a couple of fans going for the first time this summer. I will NOT be complaining about the heat. Somebody slap me if I do.
Our grass is green, our trees are tall. Two squirrels, a jack rabbit and a duck dropped by for our barbecue. The magpies have decided our backyard is a good place for their afternoon squabbles. And we just might get a deliciously diabolical thunderstorm tonight.
So yeah. Life is good.