Skip to main content

Day to Day Love

I love the routine with D. It's like we're a tag team taking on the world. Sharing chores, planning strategies, working as a unit.

With all my frustrations and anxieties, I think I would be a miserable person if I didn't have him to share it with.

It's not simply the lovey dovey romantic stuff, although we are sometimes quite like high school teens.

It's more then that. It's a sharing of life.

Every Friday, there is a food and goods market that opens up near our house. Since D's work is 5 minutes from our house, it is also near his work.

In the morning he emails me to "send my order" to him of what I want. Salmon. Cod. Tomatoes. Chicken. Spinach. Brocolli. Cauliflower. Mushrooms. Peppers. Steaks.

On his lunch break, he walks to the market and gets our meats and fresh veg for the week. It's become one of the "things" he does around the house.

Every Friday, I go across the road to the huge Sainsbury's. They also have a large off-license, which is essentially a liquor store, although over here, you can buy booze in the grocery store, unlike Canada but like the U.S. Alcohol can get confusing.

Anyway, at their "offie" - as it's commonly know - they have a wide variety of wine. I venture over, buy 4 bottles - 2 red for me, 2 white for him - that last us for the week. This is one of my "things".

D really does a good chunk of the cooking, although I seem to be enjoying making a few dishes - like tacos, omlettes or the Sunday roast - but besides those dished, the kitchen really is his domain.

When he goes home at lunch, he makes sure dinner is taken out of the freezer.

He also does the dishes. There is a certain way dishes are done, he says, and so, I leave him to it. Whether out of frusrtations from his anal-ness or laziness on my part, I'm not sure. It just has simply become one of the things he does more often.

I love the smell of clean clothes so I have gravitated towards doing all the laundry. And the ironing because I love that too.

I am also a sucker for the "clean smell" and so I do all the cleaning. Our flat is literally two rooms so it takes me all of an hour, however it is also one of my "things".

He takes out the garbage, but only after I have tied the bag closed for him.

What I really adore is how easily we have both seemed to fit into these roles. There is nagging on both ends. He is always sighing in irritation when I don't scrape the plates enough - it will clog the drain, he says. I am frequently frustrated by his bathroom habits - water on the floor after shaving, the non-use of the toilet brush (enough said).

But the best part is I don't feel like the girlfriend who has to force her partner to help out around the house.

Perhaps it's because I come from the generation who's mothers - even mothers' mothers - had already really be liberated.

My maternal grandmother work all her life as a school teacher. My mother grew up seeing that and in turn, worked for the majority of time that we were all growing up.

I also grew up in a house where first parent home started dinner. Since my dad worked closer to home, he was frequently the one to get things going in the kitchen.

D and I seem to have really defined what we like doing in the house. I hate dishes. I'm not a big fan of cooking. And there's no way I could get to the fresh market on Fridays because it's no where near my work.

And D likes it because he's a sucker for a bargain. He likes to never spend any money, whereas I like to spend but on a budget, knowing exactly how much I can spend on what.

I make sure he takes his vitamin every morning and he does all the locking up at night.

It's like having a dream roomate - with benefits.


Popular posts from this blog


My regular journaling has significantly improved my mood.

I've been taking some time, twice a week, to polish existing content as well as develop my floating ideas into a more concrete outline.

I've felt this focus for the last 6 weeks that I can't really describe properly. It's as though I've shifted my thinking totally. Writing is my craft. It's what I do, who I am, how I exist. It's like my mojo.

So, I guess, I've gotten my mojo back. My focus, my purpose, my essence.

And it feels good. It feels right. And I am almost understanding more now why the best writing of the best writers happens when they are older, more polished, more experienced, more rough around the edges.

When all the youthful spark has been extinguished and what's left, is the determined embers, that will not go softly, that will not die out. That will continue, fervently glowing, creating warmth and not just drawing attention from its flicker, but pulling people in by it's so…

Room with a view

We've been in our new home for 10 weeks nos and it's feeling more like home than ever.Every day, I sit down at my desk to the most inspiring view.A collection of stories is building. This space makes it easy to gather my thoughts.I've been consumed with a few work projects and am looking forward to collecting my thoughts soon.Writers club is still going ... I was on a bit of a hiatus but hope to get into my routine for fall. For now, boat gazing is helping.

One thing

It's that time of year again. That time when we all decide to become a little more of our better selves.

It's a good time of year to commit to something, even if just to say you're going to try to make it happen. And, even if things don't change and perhaps you even fail at whatever you were resolving, it's actually just the action of pledging change that really brings the most benefit.

And so, this year, as I'm sure most writers are pledging, I pledge to WRITE. MORE.

Not necessarily blog more. But write more. Keep the act of it going. Commit to treating it as my craft instead of my hobby. Promising to keep it a hobby at heart but a skill in practice.

I've started a daily journal again - one page per day -- of anything, really mostly a rundown of what I did that day. Or heck, even a bit of stream of consciousness of what's banging around in the old head that day.

I also bought another daily Q&A book that, if I'm successful, will carry me across…