Wednesday, June 02, 2004
becoming domesticated
I am absolutely loving our new home! Especially the kitchen. It's so wonderful to have a place to put everything, and still have plenty of room to work. Not to mention the joy of having a dishwasher! And the full-size oven has been getting a workout, too.
Last night, I was making Tamale Pie for dinner. Bret was sitting on the couch, watching Stargate SG-1, so I was keeping the volume low on my singing. I happened to glance over at him, and he was watching me with a soft smile on his face. Puzzled, I said, "What?" Still smiling, he just shook his head. "Nothin'. Just enjoying watching you." "Was I singing too loud?" "Nope. Just perfect." (I didn't have the heart to tell him the song he was enjoying was a Billy Joel one — "Until The Night," a beautiful, passionate song that I have long loved. He detests Billy Joel.) It's a good thing Bret likes my singing, because I've been doing it pretty much nonstop since we settled in here!
Today, I had from-scratch banana nut bread in the oven when Bret came home from work (cooking song-of-the-day: Linda Ronstadt's "Blue Bayou"). He must have asked me five times how much longer it had to cook, even though the minutes were clearly counting down on the timer. We ate warm banana nut bread slathered with butter, which totally wrecked our appetites for dinner. But God, it was good! Although, I think it went better with my milk than with Bret's beer.
Monday has become my "make the house immaculate" day. Since Monday was a holiday this week, I cleaned on Tuesday instead. It is impossible to make the house immaculate when Bret is home. He walks around with cigarettes, dripping ashes. He dribbles cookie crumbs and drops chocolate chips. He leaves empty Dr. Pepper cans wherever he happens to be when he finishes them. He removes his clothing one garment at a time, and drapes each one over the nearest protruding object. So I confine my cleaning to after he's in bed, and while he's at work. It's a system that works well for us. Anyway, while I was vacuuming Tuesday, I suddenly realized I was singing REALLY LOUD. Like I was trying to be heard over the vacuum! Amused, I made myself take the volume down a few decibels. But none of the neighbors had banged on the wall, so I guess I didn't get caught. Or maybe they did, and I just didn't hear them.
Last night, I was making Tamale Pie for dinner. Bret was sitting on the couch, watching Stargate SG-1, so I was keeping the volume low on my singing. I happened to glance over at him, and he was watching me with a soft smile on his face. Puzzled, I said, "What?" Still smiling, he just shook his head. "Nothin'. Just enjoying watching you." "Was I singing too loud?" "Nope. Just perfect." (I didn't have the heart to tell him the song he was enjoying was a Billy Joel one — "Until The Night," a beautiful, passionate song that I have long loved. He detests Billy Joel.) It's a good thing Bret likes my singing, because I've been doing it pretty much nonstop since we settled in here!
Today, I had from-scratch banana nut bread in the oven when Bret came home from work (cooking song-of-the-day: Linda Ronstadt's "Blue Bayou"). He must have asked me five times how much longer it had to cook, even though the minutes were clearly counting down on the timer. We ate warm banana nut bread slathered with butter, which totally wrecked our appetites for dinner. But God, it was good! Although, I think it went better with my milk than with Bret's beer.
Monday has become my "make the house immaculate" day. Since Monday was a holiday this week, I cleaned on Tuesday instead. It is impossible to make the house immaculate when Bret is home. He walks around with cigarettes, dripping ashes. He dribbles cookie crumbs and drops chocolate chips. He leaves empty Dr. Pepper cans wherever he happens to be when he finishes them. He removes his clothing one garment at a time, and drapes each one over the nearest protruding object. So I confine my cleaning to after he's in bed, and while he's at work. It's a system that works well for us. Anyway, while I was vacuuming Tuesday, I suddenly realized I was singing REALLY LOUD. Like I was trying to be heard over the vacuum! Amused, I made myself take the volume down a few decibels. But none of the neighbors had banged on the wall, so I guess I didn't get caught. Or maybe they did, and I just didn't hear them.
