Easter weekend the girls had two extra days off. My mind made a beeline to CHORES. Surely we could join forces to spruce up the yard and living room, and whittle down the laundry that had grown when I was teaching every morning last week. But everyone in the house had a version of too busy.
The twins simply had to finish the
Redwall book they were deep into. Hosanna decided to clean her own room, which admittedly needed it but did nothing to help the rest of us. John dove into a paper he is writing about Freedom in Marriage. Personally I preferred slavery. To me. Zack left town.
So I shrugged and worked alone to sort whites from darks, and dump empty jars and boxes into the bins, and change the wood chips in the coop. I cleared dishes and changed the towels. It felt lonely. But as
first world problems go, and in the shadow of people I know who have lost someone or cannot pay the mortgage, it was slight.
The day after Easter John had a list of people to take flowers to... people who have retired, or were recently hospitalized, or are up in years. He asked if I would go with him, since making conversation has never been as easy for him as memorizing pi to fifty digits.
"Nope. I have to do the dishes and laundry
and vacuuming that never got done on Saturday," I hinted oh so subtly. He shuffled out the door with thirteen addresses.
I started a white load, and gathered up plates, and swept. After awhile I remembered his face when he asked me. It was sweet that he wanted me with him. I texted that I would help for an hour. It was after all Easter, and people are supposed to be nicer than usual.
We went to the home of a woman he did not know.
Her daughter was home and I greeted her by name. John handed her the flowers and the little card. She was a high school buddy of my sister's and her sister was a friend of mine. We blabbed about her aging mother and our sisters and her sheep and the flowers she planted this spring and ten other things. John listened. Then we drove to the next house. I conceded that it was probably easier for John to have me along.
This morning I went downstairs to let out the chickens
and replenish their food. As the sun rises earlier each day they become increasingly opinionated if I am slow, and I hurried to tug on my boots. Then the outside door opened. It was Aurelle. She had beat me to it. I was delighted. Although it is not remotely difficult to pour pellets and turn on the hose, it is exponentially more pleasant with company, especially if you are not expecting it enough to take it for granted.
Perhaps it is enough to simply be with one
another as we plod through the ordinary.
