Spring arrived in a little blue box this week. My crocuses and hyacinths are in full bloom, the days are longer, and Matt is almost tolerable to live with (hee hee).
We've been cooking out, playing outside (Sam is in his fort right now killing bad guys), taking walks, and tonight I'll be firing up the grill and pouring a small wine goblet for my dear husband--who never has to wait on repairmen--to enjoy on the deck.
I'm not sure what it is about us and repairs, and thank God I write from home so I can be here to meet the endless stream of child-abducting vans that are forever parked in our driveway. I called Matt today to tell him that our LG fridge was spewing water. At first, I detected low-grade defeat over the phone, then a growing surge of apoplexy, but then he calmly sighed, saying, "Do you want to call them, or me?"
There is a dark cloud hovering over our appliances, wiring and, soon enough, furnace. It's like a hail storm in the middle of a hurricane, and it never seems to end. These are the things that make marriage fun.
But it's life, and sometimes there's no better answer than a 1997 Martinelli, Jackass Vineyard, Russian River Valley Zinfandel. (Alcohol 16.5% by volume.)
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