Altered Routine

Wet, wet, wet. Cloudy, grey, fall wetness that darkens the morning hours more than the rapidly shrinking window of daylight as summer inexorably becomes fall. While it is likely we will still see some sunny fall (or even late summer) days, today feels deep into fall and sunshine seems a million days ago.

I'm flying solo this week, as my wife takes a well deserved break visiting her sister and husband at the vineyard they farm in eastern Oregon. For me, that means the daily routine becomes more important. Not just because the dogs, cat, and everything else that needs done for the household is relying on me, but because that is how I deal best with suddenly being solo.

December will mark 29 years of marriage, and you can tack on another year of knowing each other before that. We were young when we decided to marry, so in many respects we have grown up together. That is a primary reason for the deep abiding comfort of our relationship, and we count our blessings for that regularly. I count that even more so when she is away, for the lack of companionship I suddenly experience.

Which isn't to say I shrivel up in a catatonic corner when she's gone; we (the "boys" and I) have our slightly altered routine and we do quite well. Also, I love that she has these opportunities to spend time with her sister. So it's all good. But on wet if-its-not-fall-it-sure-feels-like-it mornings, when she is away, I am acutely aware of what is missing.

The iPod also seemed to be searching for missing (or, at least, long lost) tunes this morning, pulling up items I haven't heard or thought about for ages:

- Sara Bareilles: Bottle It Up
- Munich: Munich
- Barbara Streisand: Evergreen
- Chris Botti & Sting: In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning
- George Harrison: Wah-Wah


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad