Even when they're not glorifying violence, modern broadcast media still manage to get right up my nose. My alarm in the morning is set to one of the "morning shows" hereabouts that's pretty much inoffensive normally, but this morning, one of the people on there began saying something about how her husband tries to support her in the little ways, and then began making fun of how he did so, even calling him "inept" because he, like many people I know, doesn't know the jargon for ordering overpriced coffee.
My husband supports me in the little ways. He brings me water when I sit down after making dinner. He is supportive and encouraging about my crafting, and has even taken the time to learn about the papers I use in my cards, so that if he spots something I could use, he'd know it. This weekend, as we wandered through an antique/rummage shop, he called me over to look at some shuttles for weaving, to see whether they'd be useful. Unfortunately, they were damaged and would need replacement parts that are difficult to obtain. For the price, they were no bargain, but I would never have considered making fun of him for not knowing that, and certainly not in so public a fashion as on the airwaves!
And even when he rolls his eyes over my enthusiasm for handspun wool, I know that when I have the yarn in my lap, trying to decide between the different skeins, I can count on him to say things like, "Oh, that blue is nice. Would that work for..." I can count on him sending me interesting tidbits he comes across when doing news searches. When I can no longer stand to read the paper, I can count on him to send me the good bits from it. If I'm sick, he'll even bring me popsicles - something he loathes, because he knows I like them when I'm tired of pushing fluids.
And I happen to know, in the end, roll his eyes though he might, he recognizes the handmade gloves I'm making him from that wool for the sign of love they are.
My husband supports me in the little ways. He brings me water when I sit down after making dinner. He is supportive and encouraging about my crafting, and has even taken the time to learn about the papers I use in my cards, so that if he spots something I could use, he'd know it. This weekend, as we wandered through an antique/rummage shop, he called me over to look at some shuttles for weaving, to see whether they'd be useful. Unfortunately, they were damaged and would need replacement parts that are difficult to obtain. For the price, they were no bargain, but I would never have considered making fun of him for not knowing that, and certainly not in so public a fashion as on the airwaves!
And even when he rolls his eyes over my enthusiasm for handspun wool, I know that when I have the yarn in my lap, trying to decide between the different skeins, I can count on him to say things like, "Oh, that blue is nice. Would that work for..." I can count on him sending me interesting tidbits he comes across when doing news searches. When I can no longer stand to read the paper, I can count on him to send me the good bits from it. If I'm sick, he'll even bring me popsicles - something he loathes, because he knows I like them when I'm tired of pushing fluids.
And I happen to know, in the end, roll his eyes though he might, he recognizes the handmade gloves I'm making him from that wool for the sign of love they are.
posted by Plain Foolish | 10:19 AM
4 Comments:
Definitely a woman with too much time on her hands. I switched morning radio shows because one of the DJ's on the oldies station was always ranting about every little city ordinance. Freeway speed limits were set down to 55 in an effort to reduce smog, and you would have thought she'd been told to sell her kids to the McNugget factory. (When are you ever on the highway that it's even clear enough to drive 55, anyway?)
Part of what got me about the whole thing was that he was waking up early to get her a coffee from the S. place, where he is uncomfortable. She then demands a very complicated coffee - latte, half skim, half regular, with a certain number of "shots" and I can't remember what else. Frankly, my husband, who is the coffee drinker of the two of us, asked me to repeat the order as best I could, then informed me that his three questions would have been, "Lady, do yez want cream? Sugar? New coffee or the good stuff at the bottom?"
His answer is typically black and the stuff at the bottom, if you have it. Mine is I want coffee ice cream - lots of cream, lots of sugar, and maybe a coffee bean was near it somewhere.
Though I will also take stewed coffee - the stuff at the bottom, with lots of sugar.
Er... as to the 55 thing... Sundays during church? Even after Katrina drove the prices way up, I looked down from my seat in the Metro train down on the Beltway and it was still a congested mess. C'mon, folks, how about putting in that light rail that parallels the Belt, hmmm? It wouldn't even go directly to my neighborhood stop (it would be one big train stop away) and I want it. I would gladly take the Metro to the Purple line and around to Metro again. That may sound like an insane commute, but it would cut a half hour off the current Metro trip down into DC and back up, just to get a quarter of the way around the Belt.
Public transport is a joke here (we can't do subways much, I assume because they would flood all the time). ALthough the traffic has been Hell on Earth the last two weeks and I'm thinking I need to look into bus routes again, although I don't know if I can spare the extra time once my online classes start.
I'm praying, praying, praying my bosses will agree to let me do four 10-hour days a week. This would make my life so much easier, only having to commute four days a week. I don't mind longer days--I often worked 14 hours at the vet's, and I feel like once I've worked 8 hours, I might as well work 10.
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