Choppy waters

Really blurry pic of Louise in the rain

This morning we awoke to choppy waters. Choppy waters outside our bedroom windows. The sea's voluminous power made us sit up in bed and take notice. "Can't capture that on a video," Tom said. He went upstairs to get an overview and then got back into bed.

"There's something coming up out of the water. Something huge," he said.

"A dragon?" I asked.

"No, the hull of a tremendous ship is headed this way with guns pointing straight at us. Oh my gosh, they're going to shoot!" He covers his heart with his hands. "We're dead," he said.

So you see, no matter where you go, husbands maintain their same corny humor.

In the afternoon, a man dropped off a cord of wood in the driveway, not in the shed.  I'm guessing on that spelling. Certainly, it can't be a chord of wood, could it? Or a kord of wood? Anyway, Tom went out to carry it into the shed several feet away.

I followed.

"Sedentary men your age have heart attacks when taking on these sorts of tasks," I said.

"I was just thinking that," he said.

"Can't you call the hardware store and have them recommend a little man to come and move it?" I like my men in diminutives.

So he did and a young and hardy little man came and stacked it for us.

I spent the day emailing a thousand people and started a cross-stitch project in red. It isn't easy when you can't see and you can't thread a needle in less than ten minutes.

We watched Bridge of Spies again last night. It was still entertaining, especially for Tom, who didn't remember seeing it in the theater.  He kept speculating about the ending and I already knew what it was. Memory loss can be advantageous.