Alone 9/9/2013

It’s good for a husband and wife to spend a little time alone once in a while.

My sweet hubby was invited to a “boys” golfing outing this weekend.  Ted and 27 other “boys” traveled to Drummond Island (maybe 40 miles away as the crow flies) on Sunday morning, played golf Sunday afternoon, spent the night, played some more golf, and should be arriving back on the island sometime late this afternoon.  I didn’t exactly understand the attraction of traveling 40 miles to play golf when we have three excellent courses right here on our own island, but it was one of those occasions when we wives just know not to bring up anything remotely logical.  Boys just sometimes have to be boys.

I went to church alone yesterday morning and sat with friends.  I walked into town after services to pick up Ted’s Detroit Free Press and also stopped at Joann’s Fudge and bought two Peanut Butter Cups the size of jumbo muffins.  I envisioned eating one yesterday and one today – knowing there would be no remarks about how good those were going to look on my hips in a few days.

I walked the dogs, ate lunch and sat down to read – without a football game playing upstairs in the TV room.  I fell asleep around 3:30 and awoke at 5:00 – just in time to walk dogs again and get ready to go back downtown.

I didn’t hear from Ted after he left.  Drummond Island is pretty remote, and our cellphone carrier (Verizon) obviously hasn’t yet found that little strip of land in the U.P.  Ted and I usually talk to each other a lot during the day.  It’s just something we do, and when I didn’t hear from him, I knew it had to be a coverage problem.  After dinner, Ted found an ancient calling card in his wallet (he will tell that story for the next decade to explain why he never throws anything away) and used it to call and leave the number to his room – because Oops, I wasn’t home. I returned his call when I came wandering in at 10:02 after a wild evening at a friend’s ice cream and cake social, followed by a birthday Sock Hop in her honor at the Mustang – complete with DJ, 60’s and 70’s music AND videos! Nineteen women dancing the Stroll, the Twist, the Electric Slide, and the Hustle with each other was a hoot!  I even took some photos, but in the interest of remaining friends with those 19 women, I will not be posting them.

When I returned Ted’s call and heard his voice, I realized there was a little part of me that had been holding my breath, and now I could finally exhale and relax for the evening.  As much as I sometimes enjoy some alone time, ending the day talking to Ted is something I depend on happening, and I know if we hadn’t connected neither of us would have slept as well.

In hindsight, I should have let Maddie talk to him also.  I picked her up and put her under the covers with me after I turned on the lamp and settled in to read until I got sleepy.  Instead of finding her perfect spot to curl up and remain motionless for the next eight hours, her little head kept popping up over the sheet and staring at the bedroom door.  This went on for a good hour before she gave up listening for Ted to come up the stairs.

This morning I got up, got dressed, made coffee, and took the dogs out – all things Ted usually does before I even pry open one eyelid.  Maddie and Bear looked at me strangely as I handed out the Bacon Strips (one each) and filled their bowls.  I kept wondering what I was doing wrong, but whatever it was they must have forgiven me because they gobbled everything down.  I worked today at the Stuart House, and with Ted gone, the pooches had to wait past their normal “going out” time at noon until I got back to the condo around 2:30.  They were fine – no accidents – but they were standing at the back door when I unlocked the door, giving me that “it’s about TIME” look.

I’ve only eaten 1/4 of one of the muffin-sized peanut butter cups, deciding instead to save the rest for Ted and I to share.

Yep – it’s good for husbands and wives to spend a little time alone once in a while.  But I think 48 hours is about enough for me.

Header:  Today’s sunrise.  (Photo:  Shepler’s Ferry)