After dropping legend Jnr. off at his Grandma’s last night, we found ourselves in the house at the same time, with nothing much to do.
The temperature outside is now dropping almost to freezing at night, and as our old roof is now lying in a pile in the drive and the new one is still a few days away from being built, the house is as cold as an undertakers workshop. I duly set about lighting a fire, and my wife poured us a large glass of wine each.
We snuggled up to view an old black and white movie starring Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly, called “On the Town”. In one scene, Gene Kelly offers to light Anne Miller’s cigarette, which prompted me to ask my long suffering wife what men do now, in today’s non smoking bars and cafes, to offer beautiful women some assistance.
At first, she ignored the request, a standard ploy effectively used in most circumstances, but I was being at my annoying best/worst, depending on who’s telling the story, and I asked her again. With an exasperated sigh and a weariness developed over many years, she locked eyes with me and said, “Listen buddy, just drink your wine and zip it. I‘d like to see the rest of this movie in peace”.
I can take a hint.
5 minutes later, I was sawing logs in a very ungainly supine position, which is where I woke up about 3 this morning.
In Seattle, they could offer to take their Green Ginger Chai tea bag out of the cup, or maybe stir their Pumpkin Mocha Vente Latte.
How about where you live?