I woke up this morning at 6:10 and then decided to turn over and go back to sleep because I could. H was still asleep which was unusual since retiring. Even after a year he is still on work time and usually is up by six am every morning. What was the point of rising at the crack of dawn when there was nothing pressing on our calendar?
At seven-thirty I decided it was time to start the day. H usually feeds Franklin the turtle and the Foster the cat, but since he was still snoozing, I made coffee and then began feeding animals.
I dropped the container of fish food in Franklin’s tank as I was feeding the school of fish we had acquired while trying to get Franklin to eat last month. He doesn’t have a taste for fish and we haven’t decided what to do with them. You know how fast fish multiply don’t you?
When H came into the kitchen I was in the middle of filling up the dish detergent pump on the sink. While trying to get the fish food smell off my hands, the well had run dry.
He went out to feed Foster, who was meowing at the back door. Evidently, according to H, I had fed the animals in the wrong order. The cat gets fed first because the turtles are usually waiting, then Franklin and the fish. I told him he probably needed to write all those directions down for me because I didn’t know there was a law about who got fed first.
By nine am we had finished breakfast and I was folding my second load of laundry and planning my day in my head. I sent Deb a quick text to ask her what time she needed me to pick up the pillows she was cutting. Twenty minutes later she called me and asked if I could go in to work for a few hours.
“Of course I can,” I said.
It’s not what I had planned in my head earlier. I was going to sew on some outdoor cushions for my sister and then run to Niceville to pick up and then sew on pillows in the afternoon. It was a rainy day and we couldn’t go pick blueberries as we had planned. Somewhere in the day I had planned to add more chapters to my latest fiction book.
I told H he would have to fend for himself. I had to go to work. I had some sliced roasted turkey he could have on a sandwich for lunch and some soup in the cabinet. When he went out to move his truck from behind my car I dug in the cabinet for the soup and knocked a jar of salsa onto the floor. Crash!
There was salsa and glass everywhere. Now this wasn’t just a jar of salsa. It was Casa Manana salsa from a restaurant in Louisiana. It was the BEST salsa and I couldn’t get a replacement in Florida. It also wasn’t my salsa. It was Andrew’s salsa. Sorry Andrew.
I spent fifteen minutes cleaning the mess up before I finally left for work. My day went much better from there, but my house smelled like a Mexican restaurant when I got home. We went out to eat Chinese because there are no good Mexican restaurants in Florida.