Himself: Worked, puttered, museum, dinner with the feasters with Tom’s guest, and puttering. He needs more puttering. Tomorrow he’s taking Myrtle the Toyota in to the shop for a broken strut.
Herself: I puttered. Reading Kent's Bolitho series. Not a bit of exercise. No guilt. No pain either. We did buy a “damaged,” craftsman style, leather and wood footstool that goes well in the living room and gives us one more seat for guests. A wild 12 buck expenditure we both like. Yes too, I am reading you but am short on time to leave the notes I should. Yes, guilt.
Yet I harassed him this morning. “Are you going to reattach that speaker wire in Grumpy? How about the bathroom sink?”
Poor guy. No stereo in Grumpy and a wobbly sink in the new half bath combined with a wife with a Honey-do list. I should be grossly ashamed of myself, but I am not. That fool mechanic who suggested I drown out Grumpy’s rattles by turning up the radio inspired me. Since G installed the radio, I’ll inspire him. Ditto the sink.
While the drama continues outside our windows with diminishing showers, stunning clouds, and an almost full moon peeking out from the drama, I’ll keep cleaning up my own unfinished projects.
Did anyone mention that unfinished blue quilt waiting for me downstairs?