We are a couple who met after the ends of long marriages. We are rediscovering love after raising (almost!) our five children by our exes, who are now all old enough to vote, if not drink alcohol. . .
I totally understand what Sally means about finding so much happiness together in otherwise burdensome chores, and that is because of her. I have also found, over the course of the past year, that any travelling I've done with Sally, or any weekend or even daily excursion, has also been a joy, and not fraught with clashing agendas or other sources of friction.
We have recently come back from vacation a couple weeks ago. We were gone for only five days, and the first day, and part of the second day were taken up with my niece's wedding. Our traveling time afterward was pure balm. We drove up through Vermont in very hot weather for New England, and we made the best of an evening in Burlington after settling in a bit late and being tired from driving in the heat. We dined out three nights after the wedding: A fine Thai restaurant in Great Barrington, Massachusetts; a standard seafood restaurant on Lake Champlain in Burlington, Vermont; a nouvelle cuisine restaurant in Woodstock, NY (a favorite town of ours). In each of these places the dining experience was wonderful and transcendent --- not because of the food (which other than the Thai was delicious but not superb) or the ambience --- but because of Sally. Sally and I have always enjoyed dining out and take pleasure in food, wine and conversation, and we have relished a number of equally perfect evenings cooking and dining at home. I know we are not alone in this shared sensual enjoyment, but we also travel well together, even when tired, puzzling over road maps or atlas, and woozy from plummeting blood sugar. It isn't every couple who can claim harmony while traveling. X and I enjoyed traveling together also, but we didn't fare as well in chores.
Perhaps because Sally and I find ample pleasure in chores and everything simple and quotidian, it doesn't surprise me that dining and traveling would be the "icing on the cake." (Mmmm, did someone say, "cake?")
About a year ago (Back in the early days, as Harry says) I had a significant emotional breakthrough in the car coming back from Home Depot. We'd bought some bookshelf boards that we (only just) managed to fit in the car and while driving home I was mentally adding "Chores" to my list of "Things That Are Different Between Young Single Love and Divorced Middle-aged Love." Yes, chores. There is too much work to do - children to tend, counsel and ferry about, houses to sell, cleaning, dog-walking, laundry, shopping and cooking - to afford much idle lying about on Sunday mornings or just "hanging out," in divorced middle age. Harry and I got into the habit of doing chores together early on. Otherwise we wouldn't have seen much of each other.
I'm trying avoid specifics of my failed marriage, but I have to explain - X and I very very rarely did anything together. (Recreational things, I mean. Doing chores together never even came up.) I remember dejectedly agreeing with him, only half in jest, that there was just no fun to be had anymore. Getting older and having children and too much work had sucked the pleasure out of everything. In the end it was a chore to come up with one single activity X and I could do that would be FUN.
In the car that day with the pine boards poking me in the back of the neck, I suddenly realized how much fun I was having and always had whatever we did together. What an amazing joy it to not only have fun going out to dinner or to a movie or on a picnic, but even doing chores! Then blue letters flashed before my eyes: THE ACTIVITY IS IRRELEVANT. It's Harry!
And a sardonic celestial voice said in my ear "Duh."
Every weekend Sally and I tackle the NYT Crossword Puzzle. It's a labor of love and best when we work on it jointly. Sally is more skilled at crosswords than I am, and normally she will get the majority of clues, though I do my share and make some key contributions. It's best when we can sit down and solve the puzzle together. Two heads are better than one (at least in this case). Often, however, we are interrupted by weekend chores. I may start the puzzle, and then Sally will pick it up, and then she'll set the puzzle aside, and I'll resume when there's time --- or vice versa --- the order doesn't seem to matter, but maybe it does. Sally is more adept at filling in clues on first try, whereas I'm not at her level so I often require a letter or two in order to get the word.
Balthasar is a large, sleek and black lankily powerful-looking cat. . .I once (briefly) considered renaming him 1953 Vincent Black Lightning. . . He’s what you get when you call central casting and ask for a small panther.
His brother Rufus is a medium-sized fluffy marmalade kitty with extravagant whiskers, a mild expression and fur between his toes.
So guess who’s top cat? Who boxes the dog’s ears at any opportunity? Who’s more than a little skittish of strangers and steers clear of the dog?
Bal looks like black lightening but if you look closely you’ll notice the small anxious furrow between his eyes. He is an anxious, timid guy. Knocking at the door? OMG TO THE BASEMENT!!! A sudden movement, as when I drop something or bump into something – and this happens a lot - he jumps a yard and hides under the sofa just in case.
Rufus looks like a pussycat but has the cranky, imperious personality of a Klingon. He demands to be stroked in certain spots and certain ways and for limited periods. A centimeter off, a second or so too long and the offending hand is mauled without mercy. (The dog will not pass within a foot of Rufus, and she has good reason)
