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What We Have Not Earned

"Is there," I asked myself rhetorically, "anything that is
more fun than preparing food for the two of us?"

The thick-cut pork chops are on the counter, dry,
adjusting themselves to the salt and pepper.  The sherry
and sherry vinegar are measured out, waiting to deglaze
the pan when the time comes, and the veal and barbecue
sauce is sitting in line, for last-minute gravy.

Honestly, there are other things!

We have just come back from a fine trip to see two sons;
four nights in Portland, and four in Tucson.  And please
do not tell them, because it has nothing to do with them,
but we do love to come home, see that technology
and our neighbors have kept the house warm and dry,
calling for the cats to let them know we are back,
building a fire in the stove, and pouring ourselves a drink.

We are homebodies!  Why not admit and enjoy it?

We are growing old together, Mari and I, and we enjoy that, too;
not the ways in which our bodies have gotten stiff and stupid,
but doing it together.  "Hey!", we say, "Help me up off the floor!
I tipped over!"  We tip over together at the spectacle of it.

We love our friends at the Coffee Shop in South Minneapolis--
and please do not tell them this, because they are really
interesting people--but we do truly enjoy the mornings when
we stay home, make better coffee, read two or three newspapers
together, telling each other what we are quite capable of
reading for ourselves, and having a light breakfast, not so much
because we need breakfast, but because we like doing it.

"Want to go to the library with me?" Mari asks.
"Want to go to the grocery?", I say.  We want to.
Mari says, "groshery", and I say, "grossery", because
she is grosh and I am gross.  We understand that, too.

I think that blowing snow, even when the wind blows it back,
is fun.  Mari says she is tired of grading exams, and wants
to clean the kitchen floor.  We have our wants and fun.
We think about it, and laugh at ourselves for being stiff and stupid.

It has been a long time since we have wanted to bundle up
and go out to a bar with friends, however nice the friends.
We love bars, and good beer.  We love friends.  But we love
not bundling up and going out, and bundling back home, more.

I like looking out the window, and seeing how the snow
has flipped a wing down from the arbor vitae tree across the street,
not because it harms the tree, but because it is interesting.
"I love the way Annie crosses her front feet!", Mari says,
watching one of our cats.  She laughs when our other cat,
Orphan, refuses to move when Mari wants the same bed space.

It does not take much to amuse us.  We are a simple folk.
A couple of cats.  A warm house.  Each other.
Everyone should be so lucky!  It is luck.  We haven't earned it.

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