Once a week or so I wash and cream my wife’s feet. It’s the “or so” that is prevalent because she often begs off with the excuse that she doesn’t have the time. I fuss at her about that because she has foot problems, and we really should do this weekly.
Admittedly, this is a lengthy procedure. I have to lay out towels in front of the couch and begin with a basin of warm, soapy water. She has dry skin, so rubbing with a face cloth is part of this section. …
When I heard my wife start down the hall from our bedroom today, I crouched down around the corner behind a wooden chair. When she entered the room and saw me peering through the chair rungs, she laughed.
“What are you up to?”
“I’m Jamie, hiding in the cave.”
She laughed again.
Jamie, if you do not know, is the male eye candy in the Outlander series. He and Claire, his wife, have endured harrowing dangers and improbable escapes for five seasons now, and a sixth is on its way.
My wife and I have watched three seasons so far…
I read Jessica Valenti’s post about how helping older parents can add yet another job to women who may already be struggling. It hit a chord for me.
My wife and I are in our seventies and are still quite capable of handling our daily lives. However, I have had to call upon my daughter to help with some things now and then. I feel very guilty whenever that happens.
For example, yesterday my wife asked me to help her order a new winter coat. Usually, that might mean she is having trouble with some poorly designed web interface, so…
I was just talking to one of my sisters. She recently turned 80; I’ll be 73 next month. Our other sister is in between us and all of our children are middle aged, some even getting ready for retirement.
Our family is getting up there.
Those of us who are somewhat local used to get together several times each year. Pizza, a family party, sometimes a wedding or a funeral — COVID has changed all that. So has Trump: some of the children have become right-wing crazies and we have painfully had to disassociate ourselves from them on social media…
I have been reading that shopping malls are dying and that one possible solution is renting general business space rather than retail stores. That’s already happening and it is a good idea.
What about apartments and condominiums? Would you live in such an environment?
Assuming it met my other needs, I think I would. There would be a number of advantages.
Easy Shopping and Maybe Cheaper Rent?
Retail stores located in the same space might be willing to subsidize rents because of the built-in customer base. Heating could come from solar panels.
The mall itself might be able to transition…
Earlier I expressed my frustration about my wife not allowing me a tiny bit of clothing decoration to brighten my day. Writing that reminded me of another clothing incident from back when I was working as a computer consultant and troubleshooter.
One of my long term customers was opening a new store location. Because this would involve new internet access and router to router VPN’s to tie this new location to four others, I was scheduled to go there one Friday morning. I had already programmed the new router at home, but there had always been issues with something when…
Can’t a fella have a little pretty decoration now and then? My wife had noticed the toothpaste spot on my sweatshirt. She pointed at it.
“You can’t go out like that!”
But I can. There are plenty of places you can go with a dirty sweatshirt. Any hardware store. Any Walmart. Any gas station. Lots of places.
While my wife disagrees, I feel quite comfortable about running to the supermarket for bananas with this badge of white on my chest. People could mistake it for paint, and getting paint on your sweatshirt is a confirmation of masculinity.
She spotted the protest in my eyes.
“No, seriously, you cannot.”
I sighed. Defeated once again, I dejectedly walked to the bathroom to remove the detriment to my social standing in the community at large.
The male of the species likes to decorate himself. Why can’t the women let us be pretty too?
My wife and were married in July of 1967. I’ve looked over some of the things I have written here about our marriage and I think it would be pretty easy to get the idea that we have some idealistic marriage where my wife is treated like a queen and we never fight or disagree.
That’s completely wrong. We are both strong-willed and mercurial. We agree on most things, but when we don’t, sparks fly. We fight, we yell, we sulk. We do make up quickly — sometimes in mid-sentence.
My wife is my true love, my very best friend…
“When this COVID mess is over, we need to get together!” I will bet that we all have had many similar conversations with friends and relatives. For me, the frequency of these has increased since the vaccine announcements, and some now suggest tentative dates.
I will need months to honor all these promises. The sheer number of engagements we have all planned will mean busy restaurants and mandatory reservations. Highways and parking lots will be more crowded, but we will welcome all that cheerfully.
Or will we? This morning, my mind took a pessimistic turn. Is it when or if?
Consider all the mask deniers we still have. Add that we don’t know how long the vaccine will remain effective and that the virus has already mutated and will mutate again. And then, of course, we have all the people who will refuse to be vaccinated.
Is it almost over?
Stories about family, marriage, children, friendship