"Love asks us that we be a little braver than is comfortable for us, a little more generous, a little more flexible. It means living on the edge more than we care to.” Norman Mailer
This morning a little after 4:00 I was awakened by the sound of my husband checking to see if he still had laryngitis. “I DO sound normal. My voice DOES sound normal.” Part affirmation, part sound check. From behind the bathroom door he (loudly) tried out his voice. The dogs sat up and cocked their heads as if to say, “Has he totally lost his mind?” A few minutes later he returned to bed. Seeing that I was awake he asked, “How does my voice sound?” I just groaned and turned my back to him. So did the dogs. It isn’t like he is a singer or a yodeler or a broadcaster or an auctioneer…but he is a hypochondriac. Unable to get back to sleep, after 30 minutes of tossing about in the bed I was sharing with a Samoyed and Dalmatian and a now soundly sleeping husband, at 4:30 I got up and wandered about doing chores. I actually enjoyed my hour of domesticity. The sun rising over the trees. A short meditation. The first cup of coffee. Morning stretching. A little writing. At 5:30 John came into the kitchen. “Why did you get up so early?” I just smiled.
This morning a little after 4:00 I was awakened by the sound of my husband checking to see if he still had laryngitis. “I DO sound normal. My voice DOES sound normal.” Part affirmation, part sound check. From behind the bathroom door he (loudly) tried out his voice. The dogs sat up and cocked their heads as if to say, “Has he totally lost his mind?” A few minutes later he returned to bed. Seeing that I was awake he asked, “How does my voice sound?” I just groaned and turned my back to him. So did the dogs. It isn’t like he is a singer or a yodeler or a broadcaster or an auctioneer…but he is a hypochondriac. Unable to get back to sleep, after 30 minutes of tossing about in the bed I was sharing with a Samoyed and Dalmatian and a now soundly sleeping husband, at 4:30 I got up and wandered about doing chores. I actually enjoyed my hour of domesticity. The sun rising over the trees. A short meditation. The first cup of coffee. Morning stretching. A little writing. At 5:30 John came into the kitchen. “Why did you get up so early?” I just smiled.
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