Sunday, November 19

On being alone, temporarily


Around my house I make the coffee in the morning; that is I plug in the pot which my wife usually sets up the night before. This didn’t work on Tuesday because my wife went to hospital on Monday night (she’s doing better, thank you). I managed to find some coffee in a large blue can and made a pot that would warm a submariner’s heart. These past few days have been an eye-opener for me into what has to happen around this house to make it worth living here.

Take clean clothes for example. I looked high and low for the dark grey metal wash pot and scrub board and could not find them. I recall my grandmother and my mother had a set at one time. At the hospital I asked my wife where she kept these and she told me we did not use them because “We have a washing machine.” “How long have we had this?” I asked.

“About fifty-two years. Do you remember when we were on our honeymoon and after about two weeks you let me out of bed one day? Well, I went and bought my first washing machine that afternoon.”

This is pretty good piece of equipment. You have only to put the clothes in and close the door. Some powered soap goes in a small slot behind a little door and you pull the lever and it works automatically. There are no rollers nor wringer to turn. To top it off when the machine finishes you can take out the wet clothes and put them in another machine and it dries them.

Eating has been less of a problem, but also a learning experience. We often eat out in the evening at the cafeteria or one of the restaurants; (we tend to favor steak houses.) I am confident that in a reasonable amount of time my wife is going to be OK so I wanted to avoid the widows with casseroles circling the neighborhood. I went to the cafeteria for lunch one day was pleased to find them open for business. The food in mid-day is better than at night. I had a large, delicious baked salmon and some veggies. Being alone without an eating-habits critic on hand, I also knocked off a dessert; a delicious lemon meringue pie, fresh out of the refrigerator.

All in all it has been a pretty good week, my wife being in hospital notwithstanding. I can make coffee, do the laundry and find a meal in mid-day. I believe this is enough of domesticity for a man my age so this week I intend to concentrate on letting my fingers do the walking thought the yellow pages until I find Maids-Are-Us. Somebody has to do the dusting.