Not right now.

Here we are, at the most frozen, coldest dang day of the winter.  I should be using this time to keep moving, to ward off the chill, to sort, to downsize, laundry, cleaning…but I find myself napping on the couch, watching junk TV, occasionally rolling out from under the furry throw to eat something or refresh my coffee.

 

I have been thinking about spring.  This arctic blast has me in that mood.  I am thinking about plants, and colors.  I get out the journal and start writing down goals for landscaping 2019, write about rock and mulch and clearing brush.  Will those sweet little plants from last year survive this cold?  January and February are meant for thoughts like these..spring cleaning? Well, that’s for spring, and we aren't there yet. 

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Lucky.

I am, without a doubt, lucky in love as they say and have a fantastic husband.  I’ve known this for years, beginning with when we were first married and he insisted on doing all his own laundry.  At that time he was the manager of a men’s clothing store, one of several fashionable stores in a small chain.  He was very particular about his clothing, the care instructions…all of it.  I did not have a problem with his wishes, asked that he leave my clothes alone, but to have at all the towels and sheets he cared to tackle. 

Now, to add to our backstory ~ after hubs and I were married for, oh, about 30 years, he revealed his mom and dad always said he was a klutz, didn't like it when he used tools or had a project as they said he was an accident waiting to happen.  Over the years, I’ve been hit with boards, stepped on, elbowed - hard - bonked on the head, accidentally punched. bruised…that’s just me.  I couldn’t even begin to tell you what he has managed to do to HIMSELF over the years.   I had often thought to myself “Man, he is accident prone…” but to hear him say that his mom and dad thought so as well?  What else did he keep from me?

So to tie these two things together, one day last weekend hubs came up to me and asked where I had bought a small light bulb, which he held in his hand,  for one of our decorative lamps.  He was hanging this lamp, you see, and bobbled it around and broke the filament in the new light bulb.  Easy? Common? No, but, I've gotten use to this kind of stuff.  And, while he did not break the lamp, thankfully, or this would be a whole different post,  I should know not to buy just one of something that is part of a project. After giving him the location, he nodded and walked away. 

A few days later, I was emptying the dryer of his laundry ~ the drawback, he often does not quite get ALL the steps to “doing a load of laundry” completed.  I was in a great hurry, annoyed, as I had company coming for the weekend and sheets and towels to wash and didn’t really have time to pull out this load of laundry. But, again, I know how lucky I am that he does his laundry, leaves mine alone and is always ready to help switch out the bedding or throw a load of towels in. 

I felt a little jab, a paper cut type sting, as I pulled his load of clothes out of the dryer.  What the heck? A little dab of blood.  The tinkling of glass.  Huh? The tinkling of glass?  That scratchy sound as something brushes the inside of the dryer as the clothes are moved around.  Now,  I have a stacking washer and dryer and it’s tough to see into the bottom of the dryer but on my toes and yes, there are shards of fine glass in the dryer, all along the filter, in the bottom and now, sparkling on the floor.   What is this?  Carefully sorting through the clothes…there it is, the screw in portion of the light bulb in his cargo shorts pocket. Luckily, my cut was superficial and his clothes all survived being tumbled around with broken glass. 

Who puts a light bulb in their pocket?