Evening Entry

It's almost 6pm and the darkness outside reminds me that soon Steve will be home from work. I'm going to heat up the beef stew I made yesterday. It had cooked all day in the crock pot, huge chunks of lean beef, potatoes, carrots, and celery, simmering all day long, spreading the aroma of "homecooked, made-from-scratch" goodness all over the house. I called him on the phone mid-day, to sort of tease him, give him something to look forward to when he got home, but before I could get out the words "beef stew", he had asked me how I was feeling today. I said I felt fine, why did he ask? He explained that he woke up at 3 a.m feeling nauseous, and on his way to work had to pull off the road and puke. Thought he had some kind of bug. One of his co-workers had gone home with similar symptoms just the other day.

I told him I was sorry, and did he still feel sick? He said he did, and he would probably go to bed when he got home. I sympathized with him, then told him about the beef stew, which by then had lost all its powers of temptation. When he did finally come home, I made him some tomato soup instead because that was all he could handle (what he asked for), and then he took a shower, and went to bed.

Today, I called him at work to see if he was feeling any better. He sounded back to normal. So, for dinner tonight I will re-heat the beef stew, which will be even more aromatic the second time around, bake some rolls, and peel a couple of tangerines.

And if he's still feeling fine, I'm going to ask him to help me put the lights on the Christmas tree that Mickie and Elizabeth helped me put up today. When I told him that the girls had put up the tree (they did do most of the work after I told them what to do, color-coded branches and all), he sounded pleased and surprised. Putting up the tree is not a job he likes to do, you see. I like everything about putting one up except the lights... I despise stringing on the lights... it takes too long, and it takes two people, but he doesn't like to do that part either. Actually, he doesn't like doing any part of it and if he had  his ruthers, he wouldn't do any of it. He just does it because I want it. Eventually I come to the lights, and that's when I ask him to help me. He rolls his eyes, he holds the lights for me while I try to wrap them around the branches, and if I tell him what to do at any point, he's done with me. Then I have to finish the tree myself.

I think he could go through the entire season without seeing a Christmas tree and he'd be perfectly happy. Maybe tonight it will be different. I don't know, the homemade beef stew, the hot rolls, a wife in a good mood... maybe tonight I'll get lucky!