Birds of a Feather

          Two houses ago, our cool neighbors across the street would once in a while appear wearing the same shirt. Matching shirts, that is. Intentionally.

          I’m pretty sure it was all her idea. She was of the suburban respectable Presbyterian variety.  He was improbably handsome, with a bad-boy vibe, not the type to embrace identical flannel shirts for an afternoon of apple-picking. They did divorce after a few years. Maybe the shirts were the tipping point.

          I’m continually trying to avoid showing up like a twin whose mother still buys everything in twos. Yet more times than I can tell you, I’ll emerge in the day’s ensemble after lengthy analysis, choice and rejection, choice and rejection, only to find My Guy is also wearing a blue sweater and tan pants, or the same shade of orange.

          Yesterday it was a little grungy out, so we were on our way to a local quilt show followed by an early dinner to beat the high-season Florida crowds. (By the way, I think that’s the real reason people here eat at 4:30, not because they have to rush home for Wheel of Fortune and bed)

          I’d recently scored a new long-sleeved top at Pennys and had been looking forward to wearing it until I found him in his painting room . . . .

 That's me on the right.

 (Even our freckled, spotty hands match.)

The Romance of the Everyday

Today is Valentine’s Day and My Guy and I are spending it together.

Porlocks and Snidgets

     Considering my husband’s pack-ratting tendencies, the day we ever have to move from this house will truly be enlightening. 

Morning Poetry

Ode to a Mug

Red Menace

          It took 46 years of marriage, but the day has finally come.

Spring Rite

        

         My husband’s talking to himself again. I’m trying to give him a wide berth, not because his eyes are spiraling in odd directions – although that’s still a possibility – but because it’s tax season.

Sole Searching

          My husband needs shoes. I know this. He doesn’t. He’s in denial on this subject. Always. 

It's Good to be Alive

     Finally it’s time to pull the storage box of sandals out from under the bed and rotate the heavy sweaters from their shelf in the closet, replacing them with shorts. 

A New Winter Coat

Never mind that the wind chill is cruising at about -8, there are other dangers at this time of the year.

Proximity

   

       Today’s poem in The Writer’s Almanac, “Husband” by Philip Schultz, set a few thoughts in motion for me today.

Scariest Halloween E v e r

There I was, in Waynesville Missouri, only one month into post-teenagerdom, and any family I had was five states away. It was Halloween and I was alone in a motel room and there was a knock on my door.

Completely Random Monday Musings

1440 Minutes of Fame

     The Great White Way has nothing on us in our small town. 

Portent?

     The rain of last night is gone and we have a cool sunny morning. I throw on shorts and sneakers, drink some orange juice and head out for a walk. The cool morning was disguising rampant humidity, so I return sweaty and tired. 

     I open windows, hoping to catch the remains of the cool night air from the woods. 

     I feed the 900-year-old cat and put the cat food back in the fridge. 

     I saute some mushrooms, beat up some eggs, and add them to the mushrooms. 

     I call my husband to come pick up his eggs and he opens the refrigerator for juice. 

     "Why are your glasses in the fridge?"

    Is this a sign of how the rest of my day will go or something larger?

Personal Space

I wish I had better powers of concentration. I'm fascinated by those people (probably mostly under the age of thirty) who read with the evening news droning from the television or music blasting from their headphones.

Renaissance Retirement

Renaissance

 : the period of European history between the 14th and 17th centuries when there was a new interest in science and in ancient art and literature especially in Italy

: a situation or period of time when there is a new interest in something

 that has not been popular in a long time

: a period of new growth or activity   -- Bingo! That's the one!

Sticks and Stones

Sunday definitely brought a break in our routine as we headed for the emergency room, Mr. Welcome Words folded into six foot three of agony.

Confessions from 1952

It’s day two of the latest big snowfall.

Dance of the Ages

Time for another installment of  

Five Sentence Fiction

You can find other entries at

Lillie McFerrin Writes

This week's topic is  Dance.

Plein Air

My fella has a new love. It began several years ago on Cape Cod, and I thought that once home, he would let it go. But each year the fascination was renewed.