Well, Mike has gone and left me again – as he often must for one work related reason or another. (Let’s hope it is work related. The other night I had a terrible dream that we were just his “work family” – something like co-workers, I guess. His REAL kids and family – the ones he loved and looked forward to seeing – were the ones waiting at home for him at the end of the day. I saw them, waving and running to meet him, and I couldn’t bare that those kids were the ones he truly loved, I was horrified and sickened at the thought that he might greet his real wife with so much as a kiss on the cheek).
I told him about my awful dream. He has proceeded to comfort me by offhandedly mentioning his other family on occasion.
BUT, what I was getting at here, is that it seems to have become a tradition of sorts (for my little self) to blog away my loneliness as a means of passing a quiet Mike free evening. Usually, I would be doing something with him. Or, if not with him, then at least near him. For example: sitting right next to him on the couch reading a book. Of course, he would be complaining about my lack of attention towards him. There may be nothing in the world so vexing to my husband (when it comes to me) as my apparent lack of wifely attentiveness when I am reading a book. I think I could even be sound asleep next to him and he would feel less neglected. Something about my being engrossed in a book just smacks of disregard.
The only thing that might possibly vex him more, when it comes to his wife, is my tendency to throw away things that weren’t to be thrown away. Speaking of which, I must have thrown away several “valuables” the other day because he questioned if, in my cleaning conquest, I was just going to go ahead and throw him out as well (as long as I was throwing away all his most important things – broken sprinkler parts, a paper or two of seeming insignificance).
“No,” I responded, wrapping myself into his arms, “are you going to throw me away?”
He smiled mischievously and said, “Of course not. You’re one of my precious things. I wouldn’t throw one of my precious things away.” And we laughed as I pushed myself in mock anger back out of his arms because saying I am one of his precious things is, well, basically saying I matter at least as much as those broken sprinkler parts and old receipts – which all fall into the precious things category.
Still, I can perhaps understand his grumbling about my lack of attention when I am reading a good book. I can relate because it might be similar to how I feel when he is building something – wood in hand, tools at the ready. He is off in another fascinating world and I am only barely on the very edges of that world’s existence. I like to be very near his thoughts, and I don’t mind that he can sense when, similarly, I am off in a book world with out him. I like that he wants a little of his wife’s attention back on him. In the end, I’m sure he is pleased that I am somewhat well read, and it is that very man himself who often surprises me by bringing home a magazine I might enjoy reading, or buying me a book he knows I might like. And, I must say that, as for me, I am always rather ridiculously proud of his finished building projects. Take this recent masterpiece: A dock built on his dad’s pond. I mean look at it. Who can just build such a fine dock? Who can build a dock at all – just like that without ever having done it before? And did I ever put pictures of his finished chicken coop on here? I don’t think I did. I must. It’s lovely.
Anyway, there it is: whatever rambling thoughts come out when I am here all alone at night. I think I’ll stop now though. All this talk of me reading books has brought to mind the fact that I am only a few pages off finishing my most recent read (A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner. It is actually fourth in a series of books that begin with The Thief). My sister-in-law Kimberly recommended them to me. I, in turn, recommend them to any of my reading friends out there who are looking for some quick and enjoyable reading. I’ve quite liked them. And I’m off to finish this one. Good night.