Start As You Plan to Continue

They say one should start the way one plans to continue.  If that is true, you all might want to start feeling sorry for O’Ceallaigh right now.   I offered to cook him breakfast this morning.  He greeted the suggestion with enthusiasm and I went into the kitchen and banged a few pots and pans around.  I also sliced the Portuguese Sausage and put it on to fry, then I popped the buttermilk biscuits in the oven.  About halfway through the biscuit cooking time, I dropped a couple of eggs in the skillet — and promptly broke the yolks!  Grrrrr.

I only had 4 eggs and I’d just ruined two.  I set them aside for myself and put the last two in the skillet.  These were looking good.  I checked the biscuits — not done yet so I set the table and poured two glasses of 100% cranberry juice.  I put the butter out so it could soften (it does that really quickly in Hawaii).

I fixed OC’s plate and took it to the dining room, calling him to the table.  I put my plate on the table as well and went back to get the biscuits — which seemed to be done, but hadn’t browned.   I popped the broiler element on and returned to the dining room to apologize for the late biscuits.  I took an apple wedge from my plate and bit into it.  It was yummy.  I ate another.  And ano — oh crap!

The biscuits were brown.  Very brown!  OC poked them with his fork, selected the nicest one — and offered it to me!

I am loved.  That is a very nice way to start off the new year.

And We Didn’t Even Have Turkey!

Christmas was quiet and peaceful in our home.  OC and I each spent the whole day kicked back and casual.  He watched sports on TV, I read and played video games.

We had a simple Christmas meal for just the two of us.  I roasted a chicken, made mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, and steamed asparagus.   We ate, we talked, we laughed.  It was a mellow meal.  Afterward I cleaned the dishes and packed us each a lunch of leftovers for today.  Then I grabbed my book again.

About 35 minutes later OC woke me to tell me that the pie had cooled, and did I want a slice?  “Mmm-ff, mm-ff,” I mumbled.  “With ice cream.”  Right about then I think warm apple pie was the only thing that could have woken me!  What a lovely, restful day — and without tryptophan!

It’s The Little Things

Home from work at 4:00 o’clock after a horrid stressful day.  I just about snap OC’s head off when he gives me guidance on parking the car (preferably not in the washing machine with which it shares the patio).  I am trying to hurry because he said on the phone it might be nice to walk down to the beach for a swim, but I tell him I haven’t had lunch, am starving, and need a snack.

And suddenly all the speed comes to a screetching halt when he opens the cupboard, grabs a frying pan, and starts building me a toasted cheese with ham sandwich.  My bad mood evaporated just at the thought that he’d want to.  I said, “I’ll just grab a handful of crackers.”  He said, “You’ll sit down and eat.”

Dang.  It’s really nice to be loved.

One Year Later

OC and I just passed our one year anniversary as a cohabitating couple. A few things have changed between then and now. THEN.

Now:

I woke. OC was still asleep. I left the room quietly so I wouldn’t disturb him.

In the living room I read my email, checked my feed reader, and commented on a few blogs. OC slept. I went into the kitchen and emptied the dishwasher. He slept. I got the waffle iron out, mixed up some batter — from scratch! — and set the table. OC slept. I mixed some orange juice. He slept.

I returned to the couch, leaned forward to retrieve my laptop from the coffee table, and looked up to see an intruder come through the lanai door. OC slept.

I stared at the intruder in terror and thought briefly about screaming, but that’s too much drama even for me. Instead I lept from the couch, dashed to the kitchen, grabbed the bug spray, and blasted the intruder with at least a half a cup! The intruder writhed on the floor in agony. OC still slept!

I grabbed a piece of old newspaper and bundled the intruder up in it, squeezing until I was certain it was well and truly dead. OC slept.

Having vanquished the intruder, I headed to the bathroom for a well deserved shower. OC slept. However, when I emerged from the bathroom, he was awake and ready to start the day. He was overjoyed to see the waffle iron out. I plugged it in and took the condiments from the fridge. OC sat on the couch and opened his lap top.

I said, “We had an intruder this morning.”

OC looked up with great concern. “Who? Wha–”

“A centipede,” I said.

OC looked around. “Where?”

I pointed at the can of bug spray. “I murdered it.”

“Oh,” OC said. His attention returned to his laptop.

“It tried to murder me,” I said. “And you slept right through it!”

OC grunted.

“Hey,” I said. “It could have killed me. You’d have come out here and found my dead body on the floor and the centipede doing high kicks on my nose.”

OC looked up from his computer, raised his eye brows and said, “Right.”

“You are the hero,” I said. “It’s your job to save me. You’re not supposed to be asleep when I am in mortal peril.”

“Uh-huh,” he answered, eyes still on his computer.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I queried.

“When’s breakfast?” He asked hopefully.

* * *

Happy Anniversary, OC. I love you. Aren’t you glad to have me?