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Don’t Think You Are Pulling The Wool Over My Eyes

Don’t Think You Are Pulling The Wool Over My Eyes

I love Saturdays. H gets up early because he has lessons to teach at nine. Between nine and one-thirty I have the house to myself to do as I please. This may sound harsh to some, but when your husband retires after working twelve-hour and sometimes longer days, it’s a bit of a shock to the system and daily routine you’ve developed over the years.

Yeah, I know, it’s been almost three years ago, but my system hasn’t quite recovered yet. I don’t feel bad saying this because I’m pretty sure when I’m out of the house all day on Thursdays he’s feeling the same way.

The majority of that day he’s sitting with his feet up watching tv without interruption and eating whatever he pleases with no, “Don’t eat that. It’s not good for you”, as background noise.

How do I know this? Well, look around. The newspaper is still in the same place on the floor by his chair as it was when I left, with his empty coffee cup and juice glass resting on the side table. His shoes are still under the coffee table and not on his feet, and his jacket is unhung. No, he hasn’t strayed too far from that recliner. But, I can see evidence of food having been prepared in the kitchen, so I know he didn’t starve while I was away.

When I casually ask what he did all day he mumbles something about blowing the pine needles off the carport and driveway. (Fifteen minutes max) “I cleaned the kitchen and swept the house.”

Whatever he cleaned in the kitchen was his mess because I left it clean. Plus, his idea of cleaning the kitchen and my idea of cleaning the kitchen are two different things and there is about an hour difference in the time it takes – his being less. I will give him credit for sweeping because he usually does, though how can you be sure unless you left an unusual amount of debris on the floor. This is his way of pulling the wool over my eyes. I leave it at that. One day he will get the urge to clean out that work room. I can always hope.

I don’t begrudge this time alone he has because I cherish mine. I do take advantage of this time to get something done without interruption because sometimes I see him eyeing me when I’m actually working on my phone – yes, that can be done – and he thinks I’m playing. Right now I’m working by writing this post on my phone. He doesn’t include WordPress as work.

But, unlike H, I do have a to-do list in no particular order:

  • Write a post for WordPress
  • Organize the fabric boxes in the closet
  • Clean the Philadelphia room
  • Drop off two packages at the post office
  • Write another chapter for book (falling out of bed)
  • Research Andrews computer problem

But there’s no pressure, I’m on no time frame. If it gets done, great. If not, there’s always next Saturday – except for Andrew’s computer. I need to do that ASAP!

I can check this post off my list!

~Elle

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Christmas Crosses

Christmas Crosses

Every year when we start to decorate the Christmas tree I pull out the box of Reed and Barton Christmas Crosses that H’s mother started collecting in 1971 – the year the first one was made. Every year H says, “you don’t have to hang them all. Just pick a few.”

“Now why would I do that?” I ask him. “We have them so we might as well get some use out of them.” Then I start opening boxes and boxes and boxes….

We have thirty-eight of these beautiful yearly silver crosses out of the forty-eight that have been manufactured. They are all in their original boxes and all but two have the paperwork inside describing the cross for that year and what it signifies. All but one have their red silver cloth bags to hold the ornament.

These crosses are limited editions and in the seventies era the paperwork for each one said how many crosses were made. The amount was anywhere from 15,000 to 25,000 of each one. The paperwork from the later years just says they are limited editions and after the season is over the die is broken.

It’s always easier to hang the crosses than it is to take them off the tree and put back in their boxes. Maybe I should listen to H. It was interesting this year to read about a few as we put them up and reminisce about what each year means to us. Eighty-three, the year H graduated from LSU. Ninety-two, the year Andrew was born. Seventy-three, the year I graduated from high school, and so on and so on. Usually we are in more of a hurry. I think when you get older you take more time to enjoy the little things.

H mentioned the crosses needed to be cleaned while I just noticed the great patina. I told him that could be his job next year.

In one of the boxes from the seventies editions there was a pamphlet describing the cross and stated what a good buy it was for $12.95.

In a 1990’s box there was a receipt from a local jewelry store – now out of business – for the purchase price of $35.00 for one cross.

The earlier crosses came with a silver chain so you could also use it as a necklace. In later years they had a red ribbon for tying on the tree, and now I don’t think anything extra is added in the box.

We are missing the crosses from 2006 – 2015. They never got bought. In 2016 we decided to start the tradition back up of buying a cross each Christmas season. The cost was $81.00.

This year I spent $100.00 on the newest edition. Our goal is to acquire the ten that we are missing along with purchasing the current yearly cross. I’ve found them online on different sites from $59.00 to $150.00. Most are in the higher price range. The longer we wait the more they will cost so I might as well get started!

Reed and Barton started making Christmas crosses in 1971. You can read about the history of these crosses here.

~Elle

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