Tom gets up earlier than I do, gets dressed in the dark so as not to disturb me. I am always awake anyway, have to take my thyroid meds an hour before I can eat breakfast. He goes outside for a few minutes, usually walks to the end of the drive and greets the day. Comes back in, puts on the coffee, feeds the cats if he thinks of it. Goes to his computer and starts playing games or checks his emails. If there are urgent emails – more frequently than one would expect – he starts dealing with the various crises people have dumped on him.
I get up, brush my teeth, get a cup of coffee. Turn on the computer, check the weather. Feed the cats if that hasn’t been done. Pick up any mouse remnants the cats may have left scattered about. (Somehow Tom, despite having had cataract surgery, never notices the little piles of rodent remains on the floor.) Check my work schedule – I go in at a different time almost every day – and make my lunch to take with me unless I did that last night.
While Tom continues his computering, I decide what to eat for breakfast, usually making an Egg Beater omelet and some turkey sausage or Canadian bacon. Still trying to eat the way the doctor wants. Take all those pills I am supposed to take with food. Brush teeth, shave.
Checking the weather again – very variable this time of year – I decide what to wear to work. If I decide to wear a tie, as I do most of the time except in summer, I choose one to amuse the kids if we are going to a daycare or an elementary school..
Drive to work, always arriving a bit early. Check my work schedule for the day, download the reports from the computer, print them out, check for anything extra I need to load onto the bookmobile. Do odds and ends while waiting to go out on the bookmobile.
Work all morning on the bookmobile. Come back and eat lunch. Leave again and work all afternoon on the bookmobile.
Return to the library, do the end-of-day reports for the bookmobile and set up the computer to download the morning reports automatically the next day.
Go home, to a delicious meal that Tom has somehow managed to put together while putting out various brushfires for the railroad, the campaign and other folks who depend on his generosity with his time. Most days he goes shopping at Wally World and picks up fresh veggies. The receipt is lying on my computer, because I keep the books of our joint account.
We eat with Peter if he is home from work: “How was your day?” “What happened at the library?” "Anything at the Zip Line?" The usual.
I do the dishes, because Tom does way most of the cooking. Lately Peter will wander off to the gym in the evening or spend some time on the phone with his girlfriend. Tom is back at his computer, unless we are watching a PBS program like
Discover Wisconsin,
Sherlock Holmes (the Jeremy Brett version) or
Poirot. If it is a Thursday, I will watch
The Big Bang Theory and Tom or Peter may indulge me by watching some of it. They both think I am a bit like Sheldon Cooper, but, hey! Jim Parsons just won an Emmy for that role. Tom is also a
Glee fan, but Peter tends to watch Ultimate Fighting Championship bouts, switching channels regularly to see what else is on. Tom is also a NASCAR person. What can I say? I watch
Phineas and Ferb and
iCarly. The Nielsen ratings people would scratch their heads over our viewing habits.
After unloading the dishes (maybe -- if I don't, they will be waiting for me in the morning)), I may pay a bill or two. I will do a final computer check of mail and news. Then it is time to grab a book, crawl in bed and try to settle in before Sundance decides to slide up by my side and prevent me from reading.
And then, to all a good night. Tom is still in there putzing with his computer or reading.
Not very exotic, is it? Or scary?
Just two old coots, a healthy young man and a couple of cats living their lives.
And yet there are those who want to destroy it.
You gotta wonder why.
See if you can spot any difference in this photo:
The statues of Egyptian gods were something being tossed by the library, and I picked them up to use around the house or for odd little gifts. (Be forewarned, friends!) I put some on the shelf and waited for Tom to notice. When he said nothing, I asked him directly if he saw anything different. He looked puzzled. I pointed at the shelf and he asked, "Are all the pumpkins inside now?" referring to those that had been by the front door.
