85 F. yesterday in Norwich. I thought I was back in NJ, sitting in traffic, crawling along Main Street. Wal-Mart had the half-pint jars I needed, and thinking about Mattie's belly (something I've done for the past 8 years) I stopped at their deli to get some chicken and macaroni salad. He had been on his knees all day putting flooring down and was starving when I finally got home. The political animal he is muttered something about don't shop at Wal-Mart anymore. Okay, okay, I know how you feel but I needed the jars, and we needed something to eat tonight. They even had socks on sale, two pair of cotton boot socks for $1. He's always yelling, Honey I need some socks!!! Where in the small print did it say I am responsble for keeping his feet covered? The sexist nature of our relationship comes in handy sometimes...like the night before garbage day, etc. I point out the section of the small print that says I don't do garbage! Ah, married life. I'm amused by his contrariness sometimes and remind myself of all those years when I wished I had a man on board, contrary or not. And when he rolls out those round bales...oooohhhh Baby!
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