Felicitous Monday

Old Photo But The Reason My Smiles Continue into Tuesday

I didn’t think it was remotely possible for the cosmos to make a Monday enjoyable but then the reality of having my better half back in residence is cosmically relevant to the discussion. As I approach elderly curmudgeon status at what seems like breakneck speed I’ve noticed the importance of having my favorite Panamanian around to add the needed tropical spice to life’s experience. It was a rare Monday indeed finding me smiling for nearly the entire day.

In another chapter from the winter that won’t stop giving I discovered a huge crack in the windshield obviously from some of the debris kicked up as New England’s roads go through their annual spring catharsis. Even that less than welcome news failed to dent the general euphoria permeating the environs. Even having to abandon my bachelor habits generated over the past two months in the face of renewed spousal supervision was welcome. The think one of the most accurate assessment of a person is the extent the people who claim to love them will go to ensure their happiness.

I know the fact that I’m back to lowering toilet seats and consciously cleaning up my unrelenting kitchen spills isn’t setting off any Richter scales in seismology of relationships. At the same time the desire to be a better person for your spouse is telling evidence that we’re good for each other.

Less Than Pleased Buddy Last Night on Basement Stairs

Buddy is surprisingly less than pleased with his demotion to second fiddle. He took serious exception to the abundance of spousal hugs being employed yesterday. He started barking and then continued his expressed displeasure every time my wife and I would embrace. He pointedly refused to join us on the couch as he used to do without fail. When my wife and I were looking for something in the basement, an activity he always closely supervises, we found him looking down at us, very displeased, from a perch on the stairs. This was my wife’s longest separation and I think he’s punishing her.

Speaking of punishment, today is St Patty’s day which was the only day of the school year whilst I was in college (oh so many years ago) that we arose at 6am. In a time when even 8am classes were avoided proverbially, my friends and I were up at 6am and seated in Scorpio’s Pub drinking green beer on March 17th. Our livers took this punishment in stride (lots of practice) as it was a day of unending parties.

One of my favorite photos from that time has me, one of my frat brothers, and our two girlfriends at the time, collapsed in a heap on my girlfriend’s bed (fully clothed you perverts) around noon time on St Patty’s Day. I’m the only one awake with a green shamrock painted on my cheek. We were gathering strength for the afternoon spate of parties. Some really great memories of those special friends in that time before life-imposed responsibilities invariably intruded on this date. That photo was what my wife and I were trying to find last night in the basement. I know I still have it somewhere and as soon as I find it, I’ll share. In a sad note my alma mater now judiciously schedules their spring break during this week to ensure the adventures we engaged in are lost on subsequent generations. Probably a wise move. 

Front Yard This Morning

Back Yard