So, I gave NintendoMan his wake-up call around 9:30 yesterday morning, and we realized that all of his church clothes were at the cleaners and couldn’t be picked up until just before his gig last night. Therefore, no temple date; we will do that another time.
Instead, he had errands in Dallas (picking up balloons for this weekend’s gig), and I had errands in Dallas, so we ran them together. I drove, and I sat in Lorelai and knitted while he was getting his balloons (the former owners of the business smoked like chimneys, so he had me wait out in the car; their daughter runs the business now, and her first item of business was to thoroughly wash down the premises and to order the smokers to take their breaks outside). Then he sat in the car while I transacted some business at my credit union, and by that time we were both ready for lunch.
L&L Hawaiian Barbecue it was. He had shrimp. I had a salmon patty. I blissed out on the macaroni salad. He liked it well enough and prefers his own. (I am that way about lasagna, so it’s not as if he were complaining, merely observing.) I got us most of the way back to Arlington when my right knee started protesting. So I pulled off at an exit and handed over the keys.
Much adjusting of seat and mirrors. He is, after all, considerably taller than I am, and he’s not used to the way I have my side mirrors canted. And after we got that taken care of, he was amazed at how much peppier my car is than his truck. I think his words were, “Whoa, this little baby wants to run!”
“Lorelai is a responsive little wench.” Archly.
He patted her dashboard and promised her she would get to play, a little. And I picked up my knitting and got back to work on the doll hassock. He thought that was funny. Hey, he’s the one who fell asleep while I was driving to the balloon store.
After lunch, we still had some time before he needed to pack for the road trip and get ready for the evening’s gig, so we went to River Legacy Park in north Arlington, found a bench under a big old tree, and watched the joggers and the rollerbladers and the bikers. One guy in camo and a full backpack walked past us, heading left. I thanked him, and he smiled. He returned maybe ten minutes later with twenty more, all of them moving at a dogtrot.
NintendoMan called out, “Hey, do you guys ever wonder ‘what am I gonna wear this morning’?” About half of them cracked up.
He drives smoothly and with confidence. I like that. I did ask him to stop a little further back from the cars in front of us at stoplights (that would be my insurance education training). And we got back to Arlington a little after 3:00, which meant two school zones between the exit and his apartment.
My style is to start slowing down about half a block before the school zone begins, so that there can be no question that Lorelai’s nose is only going 20 when she reaches that white line. His style is to go the speed limit until 50 feet before the school zone begins, brake decisively but not sharply, and enter the school zone at 20. I did not know this. So when we were about 53 feet from that white line, I started squealing, “20! 20! 20!”
I think he was more amused than annoyed.
So we put the balloons into his car, and I walked him to his door, and he said, “I’m not going to kiss you out here.”
I was still grinning when I got back to Fort Worth. I grinned at Braum’s when I picked up a fresh gallon of milk and half a gallon of orange juice and an ice cream cone. I grinned while picking up the handpainted silk ribbon I had special-ordered from The French Knot. I grinned while checking my status on Facebook, and I grinned when I turned off the lights and went to bed, happily worn out from fresh air and sunshine and good food and Nintendo-ness.
I woke up grinning a little before midnight, and here I am online at 1:18am, still grinning. I think the grin and I will head back to the boudoir and knit and listen to my audiobook until normal people are awake.
All the fun the commandments allow. Seems to be working, for me.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!