Living With A Writer

Jon at the gate.

“It’s pretty wonderful being married to a writer”, I say to Jon, as I wrap up the leftover pizza he went out and got us for dinner. The hunter/gatherer in him will drive forty-five minutes to Vermont to get us a pizza that we like for dinner

A few minutes before that I was in throwing hay to the sheep and donkeys.  It’s left-over, like our pizza.  Today I moved the last of the hay bales into one pile so when the new hay comes  (which will be any day now) I know which is last year’s hay so I can use it first in the fall.

As I was tossing the hay over the fence, I called to the sheep, to come and get it.  Fanny and Lulu were already hogging most of it, but I told them they had to share.

Jon said my talking to the animals was like a song he loved to hear. It’s not something I think about, it’s just something I do.  And I thought it was a good thing he liked it otherwise, it could be annoying.

That’s what living with Jon is like.  He notices the little things.  Then he thinks about them and finds the beauty in them.

Of course, there are times the little things hold something other than beauty.

Like this morning when our neighbor Moise stopped by to see Jon and he was just getting into the shower.

Breakfast became a discussion/argument over me using the words, “your friend” in front of “Moise” when I let Jon know he was here.

Jon often tells me I’m sensitive.  He doesn’t mean it in a bad way, the way that most of the people who have told me that throughout my life have meant it.  And he’s right.  I used to fight this truth, now I not only accept it but appreciate it. I no longer think it’s a bad thing to be sensitive.

But Jon is sensitive too.

Yeah, I admitted to him this morning, there was some condescending in my using the words, “your friend“.  It’s probably because Moise came by early and I had to answer the door and was annoyed because sometimes I’m grumpy in the morning and  I’m not used to having someone knock at my door.

It’s like that saying about how you can’t feel the joy if you don’t allow yourself to feel the pain.

I’d much rather live with someone who can see the beauty in the little things I do and say, as well as pick up on the biting nuances.  I like that Jon is able to talk about the things that bother him, that we feel safe enough with each other to do that.

It helps to keep our relationship fresh.  We may both be sensitive, but we’re sparky too.  And afterward, we always know ourselves and each other a little better.

3 thoughts on “Living With A Writer

  1. Can I ask why you’re buying hay now? It seems kind of nuts to me: even first-cut hay from this year is not ready yet, and that means you’re buying year-old hay instead of waiting a month for fresh hay. Odd!

    1. Sally, we order hay at the beginning of the season, to make sure we get it and it is delivered when it is ready. I don’t know where you live, but the hay is being cut already.

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