Mi, if we were having coffee–as we used to, at least four times a day–I would always have so much to tell you.
I smile at the thought of Sury constantly puzzled by what we could possibly have, to talk about, all the time. Obviously a lifetime wasn’t enough.
Right now, over coffee, I’d be looking at you sheepishly, feeling very foolish about not getting around to posting here every day, because I have an ongoing conversation with you in my head. The conversation is easy, because really, our general routine does not change all that drastically, does it? In fact, even the same utensils in the kitchen the same pans, the same toaster, even the same rice cooker I got from reading some rice cooker reviews one day, your favorite place; the same furniture, the same curtains. Plus, I am writing a journal every day–and also on the kitchen shelves. Isn’t that why we cover them with white paper?
Last week, L and I went out together to run some errands, Mi. As we coordinated our route to cover all that we had planned, we naturally ended up at Kiran’s. How huge that place is, now. When you and I last went there, they had two storeys. Now, it is four. Large range of products and more sections to waste time in. Of course, we kept an eye on the clock, just in case our tummies didn’t remind us when it was lunchtime, and speed-browsed.
Once we reached the linen section, we lingered a bit. Reminding myself that we could do with some new sheets, I bought a couple of sets. Oh, I don’t mean the “set” set. Uh uh. No posh-ness. I bought a bunch of batik printed sheets that look bright and cheery. You’d love them! One of them looked exactly like a top I had, and when I imagined sitting on our sofa covered by this sheet and wearing that top–and blending in, I hooted with laughter. You know we stopped with cushion and sofa covers years ago, thanks to one brilliant day when we covered them with a sheet in a hurry, and found that it worked far better than individual covers. Easier to pull them off, machine wash them, use them again.
I also did the dumb-bell thing of falling for a massive tub, and, fantasizing about spending happy hours soaking in it, I bought it. Once home, I realized that although the outer circumference of the tub was huge, the base was narrower than I thought. Sigh. So off I went, the next day, dragging L along, to return it. It isn’t that I am a fan of bath tubs, but a good soak for the feet in a nice deep tub where I don’t have to bend my toes is welcome. Ah well.
If we were having coffee right now, I would admit that I cry each time I see the “Tribute” section–the obit column in the newspaper. I just can’t seem to help it–quite like bursting into tears when I hear the siren of an ambulance. The tears just flow. These days, it looks like my tears are always at the ready to pour at the slightest trigger – be it sadness or joy. I remember a few weeks ago, it was an all-woman obit column, featuring women who had passed away the previous day, or recently. I said a silent prayer for their families.
Ok. Now back to work. But coffee first. ❤️