Unplugged and Lazy
by Bella Rum
It’s still dark and very windy out there. It blew all night, licking and knocking against the windows. The house is creaking, the flapper in the exhaust fan in the bathroom is clickety-clacking back and forth. Even witches would not fly in this weather, not even if they had one of those frequent circle meetings deep in the forest. H is still snuggled under the covers, all warm and oblivious to the racket.
I feel like I’ve been away for a while. Life has been a little busy: as busy as life can be once you’re retired and lazy and unaccountable to anyone. The Grand Trio was here last weekend. Oh, my gosh, I’m so exhausted when they leave. Insidious little creatures, they infuse this place with activity and noise and energy. Then it whooshes all out as soon as their seat-belted, car-seated selves back out the driveway, leaving us behind to mend our amoeba-like selves, to grow spines again and walk upright once more until they swoop back in and inundate us with their zeal for life. So unmarked are they by life. So overwhelming is their charm. So lucky are we.
I did not snap one photo. Every time the baby put my Dollar Tree glasses on her nose, I said, I should take a picture of that, or where’s my camera, but I never trekked up the stairs to retrieve said camera. Who cares? I was in the moment.
H and I have been living life somewhat unplugged. We spend time in the morning without news or noise or distraction. In the evening, we generally throw something together that can cook in the oven or warm on the stove top, and we go to the living room with a glass of wine and just talk. No television, no computer, no phones. Just talk. We do this for at least a half hour, but we usually find that more time has passed. It’s a good thing.
Someone will be here in a few hours to clean the carpets in the living room and dining room. H did it last time and decided to let someone else do it this time. I see him relaxing about doing everything himself. There was a time when he would never have done that. He’s also agreed to hire someone to power wash the end of our house that goes up about three stories high because it’s on the slanted driveway. The very hard driveway that would love to crush his bones if he fell. That side of the house actually reaches higher than it has a right to.
I’ll be around to see all of you soon. Time for coffee now.