Growed ups

With hobbitt's return from the mysterious Everglades, druid labs has turned over a new leaf with regards to daily living. We've begun to take all of our meals together, at the dining-room table. (The cat has taken over the kitchen table.) Our previous routine has been something like this: hobbitt gets up and makes coffee, and an hour later or so will have a muffin or toast. BHD gets up "sometime later" - don't ask - and would have coffee only. Lunch would happen anytime between noon and 3:30 p.m., and would be taken to our respective corners - for hobbitt, back up to his office to be eaten while working, ditto for me. The last meal would be served TV-side (aka al fresco) sometime before 11 p.m., never before 9.

One look at us would tell you that this is not working. Delaying meals because of work schedules only meant that the meal, when finally taken, was often not of the highest nutritional quality, shall we say. We've wanted to change this dynamic for a long time but haven't been able to accomplish it largely because - and I own this 100% - the cook is lazy and often indulges in the densest forms of inertia. As in, don't have time to do everything? Then do nothing. As you can see this had to change.

And so it did. hobbitt has been preparing grapefruits in the morning and I've wanted to sit at table with him, so getting up at the same time - or reasonably thereafter, since let's face it, sleep is the second most intoxicating thing I know - is required. And we're not just eating together, we're preparing the meal together. We're paying far more attention to food than we have in many years.

Some of you may wonder what I'm talking about when I utter that last sentence. After all, I can be quite the cooking fool. Yes indeed, but that's not the same as giving the food its due when it's actually eaten, which is probaby the most important part. Without offspring that need to be fed and therefore stapled or duct-taped to the kitchen chairs, we just haven't had any compelling reason to pay attention to meal time.

We've often felt like frauds in our homeownership adventures, as though Dad is letting us use the power mower, and Mom is allowing us to plant the garden this year. Seemingly unfazed by actually signing our own names to the mortgage papers, we still giggle when we dare to think that this property is actually our responsibility, and giggle even more when we wonder if we're up to the task of playing house.

So far, so good. Our meals together in the dining room (with just the two of us at this 8 1/2 foot table) are little time-outs in our day, and a chance to talk, really talk, the way we used to when we shared the same profession, though we're not talking about MVS internals anymore. We're even remembering to take our vitamins. I suppose the next thing to accomplish on this road to geezerdom is to get out of denims and t-shirts.