A rainy Saturday morning. My favorite part of the weekend because it’s still an entire weekend in wait. The honey is downstairs making us french toast. His is really good. I can attest to that especially because I am not a fan of french toast. What I’m impressed with especially is that yesterday he went to our local grocery store and went looking for the uncut fresh bread loaves. They were out so he asked that one be ready for today. And it actually was when we went in this morning.
All at once as we were lying in bed was the cacophony of sound througout the house - the dog scraping up the couch cushions, trying to get comfortable, the Tweenaling desperately trying to coax a note out of the newly brought home flute, and the phone ringing all at once. If you’ve been following this blog at all, I think I’ve made clear many times my need for some silence. So I decided that it must be a reminder to me to be absolutely !ecstatic! that I have decent hearing.
Now I sort of write this part as a warning in the early part of the day and hope that it amounts to nothing. My honey seems to feel Not Heard. Today is his day to feel Unheard. And we all feel bad when we think not that no one hears us, but no one wants to listen. It’s not that I don’t ever want to listen. Just sometimes I want to hear what I’m thinking. I’ll admit that it takes effort for me to have even a borderline proper amount of listening skills. Many times I feel that my thoughts are completely overriding anyone who is speaking. Is that because I am selfish? Or is it because so often I have to pay attention to much outside of me, that Me fights back?
...Later on for Beer Time...
At this moment, I enjoy a mug of nice cold Eridinger beer. I’m enjoying a friendly spar of politcal cartoons on Facebook with people that I actually like despite the moat between our politics. I tell the honey about a new picture that I see of President Obama dressed as Urkel saying “Did I do that?” about the economy and he merely says “Mm.” That’s the sign of Not Listening. That’s the Winner and runner up to I’m watching a game, please stop engaging.
So I pour the very last beer into my mug. I’ve read the Wind and the Willows tonight to my Tweenaling…not because she requested it but because she somehow owns it. Must be due to one of those deliriums that Iexpereinced during a local booksale. I will usually snatch up everything in sight….especially if it reeks of Summer Reading List or Classic.
This is one of those beers that reminds me of the alcohol level of things that I don’t drink much anymore. As I exhale through my nose, I smell that strong alcohol smell, like when doing shots during a chess game. And for now, that’s a good thing.
I’ve just rescued what might be a 2nd fruit fly from my beer. But for all I know it was the same fruit fly who happens to enjoy a good German Hefe Weise beer. The silent 3rd one may have really been an herb from our garlic bread earlier. Or at least I hope so, otherwise I sawed one in half with my fingernail trying to determine what it truly was.
