Dearest Rachel –
So, Logan came over yesterday, and I did my level best to stay out of the boys way. Kept busy with writing to you, and picking up dinner for them from a local outlet of some national pizza chain. Also slept a bit more, as the dog seems somehow calmer when there’s more people around (which means he spent most of his time in the family room with them). Or maybe it’s just me.
And while I promised myself that today I would head out to the festival – scratch that, the “carnival jamboree” (I don’t know why, but it gets funnier every time I say that phrase; I’m hoping the cruise line hasn’t named one of its ships that) – there always seems like there’s something more that needs taking care of.
This morning, I got it into my head to finally change the sheets on the bed. And I just know somebody’s going to read that last sentence and absolutely plotz, they’re so appalled. But this wouldn’t phase you; we would go months, even the better part of a year without changing them. Oh, occasionally you’d say something like “we ought to do this,” and promptly forget about it within fifteen or twenty minutes. Not that I held your feet to the fire about it, either. I always said you were very much a ‘guy,’ which is a theory to discuss another day.
Now, I’ve done quite a lot of laundry on my own. I learned how to do this in college, and I’ve done so many loads in the last couple of months – especially the last two weeks, as I’ve been going through all of Daniel’s stuff at once (and attempting to pass on this knowledge to him in the process the queen size sheets post their own unique difficulties.
Maybe I’m complaining too much. In fact, I’m sure I’m complaining too much. You did this on your own so many times, that I can’t blame you for playing the world’s smallest violin for me. But I’m not used to folding something this big.
Nor, for that matter, am I accustomed to getting the sheets on the bed, especially not on my own. But I managed:
I don’t think either of us was any good with hospital corners, but it should be something of an improvement over what I’ve been sleeping in for the past – well, at least six months, and probably much more than that.
But now I have to fold up and put the old sheets back into the linen closet (and at least I’ve got room in the linen closet these days). And while the standard sheet and the pillowcases or are easy enough, I did what I could with the contour sheet…
It’s just another reminder of how overlooked the role of a homemaker truly is. To say these things are difficult might be overstating things, But there’s a fair amount of work around the house that just isn’t intuitive, at least, not to a ‘guy’ like me. Let’s just say it was more of a struggle than I had expected it to be, and I remember why I don’t do this more often, even if I might want to just to keep things orderly.
Next stop in keeping out of the way of the boys: the office.
All of which opens up a whole other can of worms. Jan and I haven’t tackled the yellow room yet, and it needs work, just like all the other rooms have:
For what it’s worth, I’ve at least taken the time to get rid of those old bills, and another ream of newspapers; they’ve been bagged up and put in the recycling bin. But given the holiday weekend, this is yet another rabbit hole I really don’t feel like going down on my own.s
That’s especially given the fun fair or the jamboree and all that kind of stuff that I’d promised myself I’d take myself to, but may have to put off until Monday at this rate. I’m not feeling it right now, I should look for a litter of yours pertaining to the fourth, I need to be at church by four, and then there’s that get-together with Jeff and his family and friends. It’s not Prince Humperdinck swamped, but it’s pretty busy.
Anyway, you know I’ll keep in touch. Until then,
Letters to Rachel 