by rmk


    As many of you know, my hubby heads for his hometown, Hill Station, PA., each end-of-summer- to-beginning-of-autumn. If you counted on your fingers and got up to six weeks, you’re right.

    Do I mind? Only when I forget to pick up the mail or take out the refuse containers for pick-up. My hubby is really easy to have around.  He can rummage in the kitchen and find something to eat. He cleans up after himself, does his own laundry, takes out the garbage, and even washes the car (occasionally).  He borders on the edge of sainthood. I take back that last sentence.


    For me, I sit back, don’t worry about meal time, leave my dishes in the sink, hang clothes in the laundry room, don’t make the bed.  Granted, I do all of the above when he’s home, but when he’s gone—no guilt.  Aaaah!

    The cherished perk when he is gone? All of the new television shows started and I was able to watch more than one in the same time slot.  With a few clicks of the remote, there is dual channel back and forth going on. There is no, “What do you wish to watch?” It’s all about me, me, me.


    The only downside of his homecoming? I had to relinquish my title as the Exalted Ruler of the Remote.