This week in the aftermath of the TIME CHANGE, that Spouse o' Mine has come home early every afternoon. (That's OK, because he leaves early every morning, as well.) He goes for a quick bike ride, or moves directly into the Bike Barn/"finish-the-interior-trim-in-the-new-addition barn". Tomato, Tomahto. Let me insert here, too, that our "new addition" is approximately five years old. Note to anyone who wants to listen: Refrain from telling building contractors, "You put up the foundation, studs, and drywall and we will do the rest." Just refrain from saying that sentence. Trust me. Pay the extra money.
So I was in the kitchen and noticed the sun was going down - FAST! - and I was in the midst of cooking Feijoada, and so I sauntered over to a window facing the Bike Barn and called out, "Hey! Paul! There's a bag of dogfood over by the Russian Droopy Tree. Will you please feed the dogs and put the ducks away?"
"What? What tree?"
"The Russian Droopy Tree."
"What tree is that?"
"The RUSSIAN DROOPY TREE - the one right by the Bike Barn!"
"You mean the Alaskan Cedar?"
Huh. Why is it he always knows the correct name for every growing thing in our yard? At least I am descriptive, even if my geography is off. I saw him smile in the silhouette of the sunset.
November 9th sees me thankful for a guy who still takes me, with a sense of humor.