I got the house; he got the camper.

I got the basement; he got the garage.

I got the cats; he didn’t get the cats.

For the last 10 days, the hubster has been quarantining from me.  It was a unilateral decision: his, although I agreed.

He returned from Rochester after visiting his dad in the hospital. He had to get permission to visit him, even though his dad wasn’t sick with Covid.

He was just very, very sick. Since the pandemic spread across the country, the memory unit where he lived was shut down to visitors. We hadn’t seen him in months except in pictures. But on the third visit to St. Mary’s in two weeks, he had an xray which uncovered double pneumonia and a nasty metastasized lung cancer. So his son was allowed to visit Thursday and then on Friday, to drive him back to his memory unit to start hospice. Then he drove back to the Cities.

Before he left home, the hubster had already decided that even though his dad’s Covid test was negative, that any exposure from inside a hospital was too much for me. I couldn’t go. (when I get sick, it hits me hard) And he would quarantine from me when he returned.

We had this brand spanking new camper with all the amenities of a Holiday Inn: fridge, two stoves inside and outside, oven, bathroom, fans, AC. This would be a win-win: keep away from me and test out the camper for two weeks.

Now granted, he does have the garage. And the backyard. Those two have helped. He has access to all his tools and also a superb cooking island on the damn patio with smoker, gas and Weber grills, sink, swing, lounge chair, dining table with chairs.

And, he’s kept up with his weekend cooking for the week of his Keto diet foods.

And I do have the run of the house to keep doing laundry, sifting kitty litter, and crafting, although not necessarily in that order, of course.

He beefed up the Internet in the camper so that he can work out there.

And obviously, the beef up job was enough to allow his phone conference and my
Telehealth conference to occur at the same time, so that was good.

But now I’m thinking…

Is it too good?

Hmmmmmmm.

He does depend on me for laundry and to wash his chili boxes. He does talk to me as I sit on the porch and he sits in the yard on the lounge chair in the evening before the skeeters arrive.

But is it enough?

I must confess I do enjoy reading by electric  light instead of the smaller book light.

But I do miss the big lug. And I think he misses me.

We’ll see what Friday brings…

 

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Just finished freezing through “Murder on the Iditarod Trail.”   Holy buckets!! Every time a character turned around, someone was drinking coffee to stay awake and get warm. I feel like I have a caffeine buzz just from reading about it. And the fierce blowing wind with ice crystals in it, heaving frozen sea chunks, no sleep (hence the coffee), and territorial, stubborn moose with slashing hooves? Boy, you got to be a certain kind of person to do that race.

I did like that constant ability to drink sugar, though, whether it be in hot chocolate or in spoonfuls dumped into the ubiquitous coffee. One guy even snacked on a stick of butter.

Any activity where fat is that important can’t be all bad.

And speaking of books, I do have two more to mention.  “Giver of Stars” was great. I recommend it highly. Wish I could find more historical fiction like that. The author has a few more titles to explore; I’ll let you know what I think.

“The Little Paris Bookshop” is about halfway through, and I think I’ll be good with recommending that one, too.

Any book titles that you can recommend?

********why do you look?????**********

And last but certainly not least is that hope springs eternal: I bought the laminated cotton and the pattern for——— a travel bag for toiletries!!!!!!  I figure it this way, sooner or later there will be a vaccine and we will be able to travel again. And I, for one, will  be ready!!!

Have a wild and wacky Wednesday. Call someone and tell them you love them.

No, of course it’s not necessary that you know them.

Love,

Janet