Married on a Friday

Yes, I was married on a Friday, but in this instance, I am speaking of being married on a Friday. This Friday.

I am on my laptop in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. The couch I’m sitting on is the Asian/woven-looking red and black one we bought for $15. The sun must be setting because the world is a frozen blue-gray outside the picture window.

Periodically my husband asks me to get up and help him with something: he is crafting our bed, and has hardly used anything but hand tools. It is made of a creamy oak, and his methods make me think of the Amish, whom I greatly admire.

By the way, he is also making the bed in the living room. After all, it’s not like we have a wood shop.

This is my life at this moment: wood and cloth projects–crochet, carpentry–listening NPR or Cities 97 or a book on CD because we don’t have and don’t want a TV, thinking about ethnicity, thinking about grad school, thinking about grammar, making plans.

I think it is good, this life we are making for ourselves. Very good.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s