Moving does present it’s problems. When we moved from Dallas to California, we had to deal with neighbors who felt that Hoarders had invaded the neighborhood. Each Saturday, while living in Pasadena, I made Randy take down something to throw away, even if it was just a big bag of waded up newspaper inside. After all, I was determined to prove to any neighbor looking out their window that we really weren’t hoarders. We just had a lot of treasures and furniture that we couldn’t leave behind in Texas. Now, moving back to Texas where the rooms and closets are bigger than they were in California, we have room, once again for all the things that our kids will one day walk through the house with a giant garbage bag and with one final sweep, discard anything that didn’t come from Ikea. But, we are determined to make the little darlings work for any inheritance they might receive, so sweep away they will be doing.
Randy and I are still trying to get used to him being retired. We are adjusting quite well, we think, but some days finds it’s struggles and challenges.
This morning, as I had begun to tell you about started out pretty normal. We were discussing what we would do today over hot tea and coffee. When I told Randy that it was my turn to take the shower first, he said go right ahead, he would make himself breakfast. Wow, that is awesome, I get to shower first (that means that he has to be the one to use the squeegee to clean all the glass walls. (Personally, if I ever marry again, that will be written in the marriage vows that “HE” will always be he the one to clean the shower walls) But back to the story. I go upstairs to take a shower while he makes breakfast. I am standing in the shower ,when I hear the smoke alarm go off. I give it a couple of minutes, thinking that surely he remembers that since moving into this house, we have set it off 5 other times. Each time it goes off, you have to open the overhead garage door, allowing air to blow in and then open the other back door to allow the heat to escape. But after about 2-3 minutes, it is still going off so I put a towel around me and come downstairs, dripping wet, to see what the problem is. There he stands at the stove, still frying his egg and fixing toast. Freezing, I open the garage door and the other back door so the smoke alarm will stop. In the “nicest” voice I could muster, I asked him why he didn’t open the doors so it would go off. His reply was, “well I didn’t want my egg to burn so I was waiting until I took up my egg”. I am so thankful that the rolling pin was put away. Because we have had lots of friends and family over in the week we have been here and have set off the smoke alarm so often,the neighbors probably think we are running a meth lab. One of these days, we will probably will be visited by the DEA. I will be ready for them. I’ll just let Randy cook them a fried egg.