When I was a kid, Sunday had mythical, mystical meaning. Sunday was “The LORD’s Day.” Not supposed to work, no fishing, just go to church and/or lay around all day. Church, when we went, was boring. Laying around was boring. Of course, weekends we went fishing we were double guilty. Boy was I shocked when I figured out the Sabbath is SATURDAY! And, it was a Jewish day. Hmm.
Guess you had to be there. Thought I’d throw that in.
Sunday is another day. Another day means routine. Routine is good.
The day begins with me getting up early, before my wife and maybe before the kids. Weekends the kids are usually up. Not the oldest, she’d sleep till noon if I let her.
First stop, turn on the espresso machine then the computer so it’ll boot up. Get the cups ready. Put the coffee in the machine, milk for froth, creamer for flavor. By now, on Sunday, my boy has come down the hall and said he is hungry. I say, “wait till mom gets up.” Routine. Every Sunday the same for years. School days I get them up and they’re having breakfast while I fix the coffee.
Make the coffee. Wait for the temp on the machine to go up again. Froth the milk. Put the whole thing together (large cappuccino cup), first sip. Day officially begins. Morning coffee makes my shoulder hurt (who knows why!) but the low-level pain is worth the high-octane morning coffee.
Wash the stuff from the coffee pot. Sit at the comp, check the news, read the letters in the Newspaper online, finish the coffee. Take morning pills. (Today I have to refill the boxes, haven’t done it yet.) Boy drifts off to play.
Soon my wife will get up and come through. The day will begin. “What you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Need to go to town.”
“What about breakfast?”
“I don’t know.”
Every day is routine and routine is not bad as long as it’s not a rut. Makes for a pleasant assurance that all is progressing.
As I sit at the desk in the living room I can see the sunshine blasting through the very green trees, bushes and vines out in front of the house. Weather says it’s going to be hot today. Texas summer. My beloved sleeps still, as does my oldest. My boy is playing and my little girl, well, working on stuff for school she hasn’t finished.
Most every day begins the same. No two days are alike. Most are TOO similar for comfort, but sometimes not.
The week that begins today will be interesting. As in the old Chinese curse, “may you live in interesting times.” Today my wife has to work, very unusual but she has to get ahead because of all that is coming this week. While she works I’ll go shopping for a gift to give her for our anniversary. After her work it’s over to Mom’s for a while.
Tomorrow we celebrate our 30th anniversary. ….know what? I still remember the days leading up to our wedding. Thirty years ago today I was a happy fella. I STILL AM a happy fella, having that crazy woman (has to be crazy to live with me) just a couple dozen feet away. I am not obsessed. I am entirely in love.
…I digress. Tomorrow morning, 6:00 AM, mom has surgery scheduled. I love my mom. I’m sure the kidney is very difficult to deal with. She’s probably quite afraid, too. I think she’s afraid of dying. Her Baptist faith has been pretty muddled and knocked around in the past decade or two. The problem we kids have is that mom has always been a hypochondriac. When I was a little boy I’d hear her deliberately throwing up every single night, …bbbllaaahhhhhhhhhh…. I think just to spite our dad. She squeezed us for sympathy over the years so hard none of us have much of a bed-side manner. She used to say she’d die young. She’ll probably outlive most of us. She’s tough under that pain-a-day exterior. She just craves attention but then don’t we all?
After the surgery and mom comes through it OK, as I expect, in the evening my wife and I will go for dinner. The new Olive Garden, maybe. Last year we took the kids. Year before that we spent the anniversary at a Houston hotel, nice and swanky, compliments of Priceline. That had been our plans for this year but Monday is a bad day for my wife to get off work. Monday is the day she does all her hardest work, putting in payroll. That’s what she does. She’s the payroll manager at a staffing service. Four or five hundred paychecks every week. Arg, not a job I’d want. She loves it. I digress again….
Funny thing about that anniversary in the Houston hotel. Was that last year? Maybe it was, I forget. There happened to be a sci-fi convention going on in the same hotel. We had dinner in the hotel restaurant while the kids chomped on tacos in the room. There were some strange characters in the dining room. Later my wife and I played pool in the bar, I had a beer and she had a coke, while three Klingon women sat a table nearby. That was weird.
Back to this week. Routine interuptus. Tuesday we’ll pack and Wednesday we’ll be leaving for Houston or Dallas to piddle around in a hotel and see what the free or cheap attractions are. God bless Priceline! We’ve stayed in four-star hotels for $20 a night before. Haven’t pulled that off in a while but we’ll probably get a fancy room for $50, give or take. Once we got a room for $30 or there-abouts that had a rack rate of $250!
Anyway, this is probably the last day this week I’ll have my routine coffee. Well, Tuesday, maybe. Routine is good. It keeps the ducks in a row.
This week, screw the ducks. I won’t miss it a bit!
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