Too often the days go by, one after the other, with hardly any difference from one to the next. Work from 8:30 to about noon, then pass some time with BB downstairs at the kitchen table, and back upstairs around 1:00 for another four hours.
The weather and the season don't help. The daylight hours are cold and the nighttime hours colder, and since the end of daylight time a month ago, the nighttime begins before 5:00 p.m.
So I make my way downstairs by the light of the shiny brass chandelier which is missing a few working bulbs. Finding replacement bulbs isn't the problem; getting into the position to change them is. Although we have a large metal ladder, reaching the bulbs would require just that, a long reach across empty space some fifteen or twenty feet above the ceramic tile floor. At 66, I don't feel lucky.
As good as life is, with more than enough money and stable good health, I fear the rut of every day the same.
And at our age, meals don't take long. Fifteen minutes after sitting down, the one-egg omelet with cheese and the two strips of bacon on the side are eaten, and I'm giving thought to how long to wait before reaching for the cookies/brownies/sweets. Less than an hour later, BB is going upstairs and I'm deciding whether to watch TV from the sofa or choose from the library of YouTube videos.
It wasn't that long ago that we'd watch something together, but since her health has slipped, she watches her cozy mysteries from Acorn or Britbox alone during the afternoon while I work. Upstairs, she has a 32-inch curved monitor for her games and her jigsaw puzzles. Along about 8:00 or 8:30, she shuts it down and plays with Nora in the bedroom before climbing into bed with a paperback or a Kindle book on her iPad.
That's too early to bed for me. Besides, there's so much interesting stuff out there to watch and to read.
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