Last night, after I had completed all my chores and was ready as could be for my company the next day, I decided that a good soak in the Jacuzzi bathtub upstairs might be a nice reward after a pretty good day.
Let's see here, I don't seem to have any bubble bath. Oh, here's a big bottle of Aveno body wash; a generous squirt of that should work just fine. Turn on the bubble machine. OMG! where are all those bubbles coming from? They're up to the top of the tub, they're crawling up the clean white tiles, they're up to my neck, my mouth, my nose--is it possible to drown in bubbles? I didn't know that bubbles can spill like water onto the floor. It seemed like so much fun when Brooke and Nick and Izzy begged me to make more bubbles for them. Sigh. . .time to turn off the bubble machine. I can kind of sense Gwen watching all this and, after her initial annoyance that her klutzy husband is at it again, enjoying a good chuckle. Careful now, you don't want to slip and hurt yourself, OMG! again!! There are four inches of bubbles on the floor near the tub. Until now it never occurred to me that wiping up bubbles is an awful lot like trying to wipe up your shadow. All's well that ends well, I'm clean, the bathtub is clean, the floor is clean, and the book I never got to read is soaked, but, hey, it could have been my Kindle.
That was last night. Today has been a cold, rainy day, but having my two cousins from Menominee come to spend the night with me certainly brightened my day. My brother and sister and their spouses joined us for a nice meal at a German restaurant we like and then home where I had dessert prepared. Later we watched some old home movies I had found and had lots of laughs as we reminisced about them. There were also the inevitable bittersweet moment when images of my sweetheart; young, vital and more beautiful than ever were flashed on the screen.
In perusing the local newspaper today I was taken by this poem that was posted by a widow in honor of her departed husband. It was not attributed to an author, but it sure describes what it's like to be the one who must stay:
One or the other must leave,
One or the other must stay.
One or the other must grieve,
That is forever the way.
That is the vow that was
sworn.
Faithful, 'til death do us part.
Braving what had to be borne,
Hiding the ache in the heart,
One, howsoever adored,
First must be summoned away.
That is the will of the Lord,
One or the other must stay.
It was good to be with those who loved us tonight, Dear. Your name came up often.
Let's see here, I don't seem to have any bubble bath. Oh, here's a big bottle of Aveno body wash; a generous squirt of that should work just fine. Turn on the bubble machine. OMG! where are all those bubbles coming from? They're up to the top of the tub, they're crawling up the clean white tiles, they're up to my neck, my mouth, my nose--is it possible to drown in bubbles? I didn't know that bubbles can spill like water onto the floor. It seemed like so much fun when Brooke and Nick and Izzy begged me to make more bubbles for them. Sigh. . .time to turn off the bubble machine. I can kind of sense Gwen watching all this and, after her initial annoyance that her klutzy husband is at it again, enjoying a good chuckle. Careful now, you don't want to slip and hurt yourself, OMG! again!! There are four inches of bubbles on the floor near the tub. Until now it never occurred to me that wiping up bubbles is an awful lot like trying to wipe up your shadow. All's well that ends well, I'm clean, the bathtub is clean, the floor is clean, and the book I never got to read is soaked, but, hey, it could have been my Kindle.
That was last night. Today has been a cold, rainy day, but having my two cousins from Menominee come to spend the night with me certainly brightened my day. My brother and sister and their spouses joined us for a nice meal at a German restaurant we like and then home where I had dessert prepared. Later we watched some old home movies I had found and had lots of laughs as we reminisced about them. There were also the inevitable bittersweet moment when images of my sweetheart; young, vital and more beautiful than ever were flashed on the screen.
In perusing the local newspaper today I was taken by this poem that was posted by a widow in honor of her departed husband. It was not attributed to an author, but it sure describes what it's like to be the one who must stay:
One or the other must leave,
One or the other must stay.
One or the other must grieve,
That is forever the way.
That is the vow that was
sworn.
Faithful, 'til death do us part.
Braving what had to be borne,
Hiding the ache in the heart,
One, howsoever adored,
First must be summoned away.
That is the will of the Lord,
One or the other must stay.
It was good to be with those who loved us tonight, Dear. Your name came up often.
3 comments:
What dessert did you prepare? I am sure it was great but do you want to share? It is amazing how the little things that we take care of like "bubbles" can be so troublesome. Such a fun thing, oh my "Bubbles" that can make all ages laugh; but can be so messy. Remember the Bubbles so pure so simple so just so....
"Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble."
Sounds like Disney's "Duck Tales" misquote of Shakespeare exactly fit what you experienced, John. Thanks for the laugh!
I may need to steal that poem you used.
What a beautiful picture you painted with words! Delightful. Good to hear you laugh!
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