Last evening Yahtzee swung by after some work at Loyola College. He graciously shared an aged Wild Horse from his cellar, which has about peaked--a fine filly indeed, with powerful reddish orange legs. I made my own modest contribution in return. We played with a set of dominos inherited from my grandfather for a while before retiring to the den for some smoking and further swilling.
After he left, Cha knelt by me where I sat on the couch and hugged my legs with her head on my lap. A very Renaissance Classical portrait! "Your job makes me feel like Ladyhawke," she said. The allusion escaped me, because I never saw the film. She told me a sad story about lovers bewitched into a bird and a dog who have limited time because one is nocturnal and the other not. I said something not lyrically apt, along the lines of: "I'd love to quit but our health insurance is now through TU." She said she'd go back to teaching because she feels she's not helping as many kids now as she was in the classroom. Her dream job is less dreamy than supposed? At times like this one is less an observer of the world, more consciously a participant. Somehow suddenly there we were, married adults talking, life unfolding mysteriously around us.
Last weekend was major busy--a dentist appt, a doctor appt, the tax prep session, Big Red's birthday, Cha's family over, Mick O'Seamus Saturday night, both our families over Sunday, dinner with my parents, looking at houses. I took today off and have slacked all day.