Friday, January 27, 2017


All day long I'd been looking forward to climbing into bed to start the new book I'd just gotten. It was by one of my favorite authors. I loved the crazy situations she came up with, followed by twists and turns I'd never expect.
When it was finally bedtime I was almost giddy.
Steven was already in bed, his phone propped up on a pillow in front of him, playing a hand of poker. Oh course, I could never understand how playing a game or two of poker before going to bed was any way to relax, but hey, to each his own.
I snuggled deep under my covers, adjusted my pillows, and opened my new book. After reading the first few pages it seemed oddly familiar. I looked over at Steven. “You know it's crazy but I feel like I could have written this book myself.”
Steven laughed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know when you're watching a movie and you know what's going to happen before it does.”
“Well, that's how I feel right now.” I was feeling a little disappointed. “This author has never been so predictable.”
“Hmm...” Steven mumbled.
I looked over and saw he was concentrating on a hand, which meant he probably didn't even hear what I'd said.
I went back to my book.
Two chapters later, I was really getting annoyed. “Oh come on!” I cried out. “Of course she was the one driving the car! She caused the accident!” I looked over at Steven. “It's like all these little hints are being missed by the other characters!”
Steven looked over surprised. “Maybe you're just better at picking up on the clues.” he suggested.
“Maybe.” I agreed. “But I was just expecting more from this writer. She's always been one of my favorites and now I'm disappointed.”
“Sorry.” Steven said, but quickly went back to his game.
I decided to start skimming through the pages. Catching familiar phrases and being annoyed that my favorite writer just wasn't being very original.
Then it finally dawned on me. “Hey!” I cried. “I know what's wrong with this book!”
Steven placed his phone on the nightstand and looked over at me. “What?”
“I've already read this!”
“I finally just figured it out.” I had to laugh looking over at Steven and shaking my head. “Well, at least I'm not annoyed at the author anymore.”
“That's good.” Steven reached over and turned off his light.
I settled back into my pillows and started reading again.
“Aren't you going to turn out your light?”
“No, I want to finish skimming through the book.”
“But you said you already read it.”

“I did.” I leaned over and gave him a good night kiss. “But I still can't remember how it ends.”

Friday, January 20, 2017


It was first thing in the morning and Steven and I were sitting at the kitchen table. He had his cup of coffee while I drank my tea. “Yuck.” I said after taking a sip. “This tastes awful.” I put my cup down.
“What's wrong with it?”
“I don't know. But when I go to other people's houses, the cup of tea they make me just tastes better.” I complained.
“Maybe they use different tea?” he suggested.
“I've checked. We use the same brand.” I took another sip, and shook my head. “It's got to be the way they make it.”
Steven looked confused. “How do they make it?”
“They boil the water in a tea kettle.” I said. “I just zap mine in the microwave.”
“Do you put the tea bag in the microwave?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Sure, it's quicker.”
“Maybe you should just heat the water in the microwave and then add the tea bag.” Steven suggested.
“Maybe.” I shrugged my shoulder. “We always used to have a kettle, I'm not sure why we gave it up?”
“Because they either have a whistle that wakes the whole house up or they get pitted and gross on the inside.”
“What? I don't remember that?”
“I do.” Steven looked over at his Keurig. “ Before we got the coffee maker I had to use the kettle for my drip coffee. It was a pain in the neck.”
“Wait,” I felt confused. “We don't have a tea kettle anymore because you got a different coffee maker?”
“What?” Now it was Steven's turn to look confused. “No, we got rid of the kettle because it was loud and gross.”
“Really?” I just stared at him.
“Okay, so you don't want to microwave your tea anymore. I get it.” Steven got up from the table and opened the pots and pans drawer. He took out my small sauce pan, “Here you go.” he said as he placed it on top of the stove. “A kettle is really nothing more than a different shaped pot.” He smiled at me hoping he'd fixed the problem.
“Really?” I said again, just staring.
Finally he sighed, “You want a tea kettle don't you.”
“I do.” I smiled and perked right up. “I love when I go into someone's house and I see their cute kettle. It just says; a tea drinker lives here!”
“Oh come on!”
“I'm serious.” I looked over at our kettle-less stove, watching as Steven put the small saucepan back in the drawer. “Besides when someone comes over and you offer them coffee or tea and they say tea it's just nice to say, 'I'll put the kettle on!' Not, 'Sure, let me pull out a saucepan or worse yet let me zap some hot water for you'.”
Steven sat back down at the table. “Fine, but could you at least find one that doesn't whistle?”

I just smiled. I wasn't promising anything.  

Friday, January 13, 2017


After a quick knock on Alex's door, I peeked my head into his room. “I'm doing a load of whites. Do you have any laundry you need done?” I asked.
Alex was sitting at his desk working on his computer. “I'm not sure.” he said. “I'll check in a minute.”
Now, I know when Alex is working on his computer, when he says a minute, it could really mean hours. I looked at the carpet of clothes strewn across his floor. “Are these all dirty?”
He turned around to look at what I was talking about. “Probably.”
He looked closer. “Okay, maybe.”
I reached down and picked up the first thing I came across. “So this still-folded sweatshirt is dirty?”
I handed it to him and he gave it a quick sniff before tossing it on his bed. “Probably not.”
I picked up a pair of tucked together socks. “I'm going to assume you don't match and fold used socks.” I handed them to him. “So these are clean too.”
He tossed them on the bed next to the clean sweatshirt.
I was beginning to get frustrated looking at all the dirty/clean clothes on the floor so, I got up and headed for his door. “I'll be in the laundry room. I'd like you to go through this mess and bring me anything that's dirty.”
“Sure.” he turned back to his computer.
“Oh, I mean now.” I have to admit there was a slight edge to my voice.
“Oh!” He quickly got up from his chair.
Once I saw he was picking up clothes, I felt it was safe to close his door and go back to my clothes sorting.
A few minutes later the laundry room door opened and about three loads of “dirty” laundry were toss on the floor next to my feet. “Here's everything I could find.”
I couldn't believe how much there was. “Are you sure everything in that pile needs to be washed?”
Alex looked surprised that I'd asked. “I guess I could check again.”
“That would be a great idea.”
I watched as he began picking through the pile. He took out one sneaker and a book that must have fallen off his nightstand. Standing back up, holding the two things in his arms, he smiled at me. “Okay, now I can say that what you're looking at is definitely just dirty clothes.”
I looked at the pile and sighed. It was still three loads of laundry. “Did you check the pockets to make sure there isn't anything in them that shouldn't be washed?”
Alex shrugged his shoulders. “I'm sure they're empty.”
“Okay, but I have to let you know, my rule is, I keep any money I find in the wash.”
Alex dropped his sneaker and book and began searching through the pockets of his jeans.

Now it was my turn to smile.

Friday, January 6, 2017


I'd gathered up all my exercise books that I'd been collecting for years, grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and settled in for some reading.
Steven walked by and saw the stack of books beside me. “Did you just buy all those books?”
I smiled “Nope!” I took a quick sip from my glass of eggnog. “I've had some of these books for years. I'm just trying to decide which diet I want to follow this year.” I placed my glass on the coffee table and settled back to reading.
“Well, eggnog and exercise books do seem to go together.” he laughed as sat down next to me and picked up one of the books.
“Hey, I'm not starting this new plan until after all the holiday treats are out of here.” I turned the page on the book I was scanning called “Exercise Ball”. “I think this might be the winner this year.” I showed him the page where the girl was sitting on the ball doing a shoulder press with hand weights. “See? This is perfect! I already own the ball and the yoga mat and I even have the hand weights!” I stopped for a moment. “Now I just have to remember where I put those hand weights.”
“I know where they are.” Steven said shaking his head.
“Oh great, where?”
“For some reason they're under my side of the bed!” He looked over at me. “I've bumped my toe on them a couple of times getting into bed.”
“Oh, sorry about that.”
“How'd they get on my side of the bed?”
“Well, they started out on my side, but every time I went to hide another Christmas present under there I must have been pushing the weights over to your side.”
Steven just shook his head as he turned the page on the book he was looking through. “I can't believe they have a book on how to meditate your way to weight loss.” He pointed to a page.
I glanced over at the page where a woman was sitting cross-legged on the beach, eyes closed and hands pressed together at heart level. “I tried that one last year.” I shook my head. “Obviously meditation and I don't work well together.” I reached for my glass of eggnog and took another sip. “I guess it was silly to think I could just picture losing the weight and it would happen.” I shrugged my shoulders. “But it was worth a shot, huh?”
Steven closed the book and looked over at mine. “Well, at least this one has you moving.” he agreed.
“Hey! I walk two miles every day!” I corrected him.
“Every day?” he countered.
“Well, every day that the weather is nice enough.”
“Whatever you decide, I'm sure it will be great.” Steven said as he got up from the couch.
“Oh, are you going in the kitchen?” I asked.
“I could. What do you want?”
“Is there any more of the rocky road candy left?” I asked as I went back to thumbing though my book. My question was met with silence. When I looked up, Steven just staring at me.

“I told you I wasn't starting any of this until all the goodies were out of the house!”