Having an odd afternoon. Listening to Rostropovich. Watching Raebert sleep. My wife put carrots in his bowl this morning because they were left over from the stew. Here’s what he did with them.
As I said, an odd day. My wife is bringing me a nice corned beef sandwich.
Heard a guy on SportsTalk this morning declaring that you know you’re married to your soulmate when after 10 or 20 years you still get excited at seeing her after a day at work. I do. Even without the sandwich.
So I guess it’s a good day. But I’ve never taken her to the Berkeley Plantation. Which is not full of tourists. Just a house on the river where you can sit and feel peaceful. My bad.
Hopefully, we have more time ahead of us. Though we’re both sad about the young’uns. So much time ahead for them and so little curiosity, so little fever to know more than they do. We spent some hours last night reminiscing about our educations, arguing about Latin, and we were both so happy that we’d gone to school when you could still get an education. We compared notes, teachers, courses. Hard times. Good times. Then we remembered the sorry plight of those who came after. Sappy curricula, propaganda instead of tutelage in thought and knowledge. And we grew sad. We have grandchildren who know virtually nothing. And children who don’t seem aware that their kids know nothing.
But we remain soulmates. We held hands and fussed about each other’s legs and knees. Enough for us. But it doesn’t do a damn thing for you. Think about it. In the meantime we’re just taking in the view.