Every morning
Every morning, my husband and I get up at 5 (me willingly, him reluctantly) so we can spend time with each other (and the cats) before we go to work. Richard makes the coffee and gets us cereal for breakfast while I type up the morning blog. The cats — the only one I see now is the blue (grey) tabby and white Me-Me curled up against a box of LaCroix.
I sit on the loveseat where my station for writing is set; Richard sits on the couch. We usually play music, with me in control, which means iTunes and one of their ‘Essentials’ series. Today is an exception; we’re playing the Chess soundtrack because I’m been hearing too much ABBA on Oldies Internet Radio. (Link there –the B’s in ABBA helped write the Chess soundtrack). Richard and I talk about the music because I have strong opinions — and sometimes so does he.
He finds me pictures of cute cats and goats and sends them to me, and delivers my daily dose of chocolate. His love language is acts of service. Mine is verbal communication and sense of humor. It’s a great way to spend coffee
These days of summer
These days when I have all day to do things relative to my writing, it seems that Richard goes off to work way early. I could keep him here all day if it weren’t for the fact that we are both earners. Today he goes in the next 20 minutes, and there will be less laughter and less brightness to the day.
As a love story
As a love story, Richard and I are very mellow. Maybe this is fitting with our ages, or maybe we’re just mellow people. We’re definitely not the love story written in romance novels (are there even middle-aged love stories?)
I wouldn’t trade our love story for anything.
Question for you
Would you read a mellow love story if it had some realistic tension in it?
Words Like Me 