Reflections from the Swamp
Dear Reader
We’re zipping through the hay days of summer. I’ve missed writing to you and keeping in touch. I hope you have had some quiet time by a lake, enjoyed the conversation of a friend or family member, fired up the barbeque, and savoured the fullness of life that summer offers.
My bride has been away for a few weeks, which rarely happens in our relationship. I look forward to her return. Some tasks are gender specific, which couples often assume their partners will do. I have never cleaned out the fridge. With all the vegetables coming in from the garden, there was no room to stuff more things in the refrigerator. The fridge was acquiring the same smells as the Carp dump.
My bride keeps a multitude of little jars and yogurt containers that don’t have yogurt in them. I didn’t know she was a scientist. I swear one yogurt container had a culture of gangrene growing in it! Am I supposed to mix this green sludge in with some spaghetti? I thought of throwing everything out, washing out the fridge with vinegar and replacing it with cases of beer. When she comes home, the refrigerator will be clean, and the beer will be easy to find.
My bride usually does the wash. She has all these rules about separating the whites from the darks, not overfilling the machine, and carefully folding everything after pulling the clothes off the line. I wear white teeshirts for most of the summer. Most of them have spaghetti stains from the spaghetti that hasn’t gotten stuck in my beard. My shirts have acquired fascinating pigments while wading around in the swamp and cleaning the beaver shit out of the culverts. Once, I was hungry and didn’t feel like cooking; I combed out my beard and found enough spaghetti to make a modest meal. I got to watch the waistline.
I couldn’t find any socks that matched. Unlike Trudeau, I’m not too fond of mismatches or fancy socks, so I went to the Giant Tiger and bought a bag of black socks. My bride’s away, so instead of going out to wild parties, I throw all my white-stained teeshirts in the wash with the new black socks. Now I have a fine collection of grey shirts that hardly show any stains!
My bride is a great cook. There isn’t a week that goes by where she doesn’t try something new. She does 80 % of the cooking, maybe 90% or closer to all the cooking. I’m not clear on the math.
I found a solution to missing out on home-cooked meals while she is away. I drop in on friends around dinner time like seagulls drop in around fry trucks. Eventually, they ask if I want to stay for dinner, and I graciously accept their offer. I’ve also invited friends for a potluck where I provide the salad and ice cream while they bring the meal.
I’m looking forwards to my bride’s return. I miss her more than the great meals and the clean socks. She’s the best.
