It's a rainy Sunday here in Houston. Looking out one of the back windows I'm watching the bamboo sway wildly in the wind as water drips from the roof in the foreground. It's a grey day. A grab-a-cup-of-coffee-and-torment-Super Husband-with-budget-spreadsheets kind of day.
He has escaped my torture by going to El Bolillo to buy, you guessed it, bolillo. Bolillo is a smallish, loaf of white bread, reminiscent of French bread in that it has a soft interior surrounded by a crunchy shell. Super Husband's mother loves to remind him of the time that he told everyone that bolillo with real, Mexican coke was just about the best thing in the world. He was six, maybe. But we have a single bottle of coke in the fridge for him, just the same.
A lot has happened since January 10th (the last day I posted anything).
One event in particular has contributed to my... writer's block, shall we say?
Because my readership is comprised mostly of people who are also Facebook friends or members of my extended family, this will not be new news to most of you. That said, I feel obligated to explain, perhaps for posterity, for future generations (hah), for... catharsis, to explain my two month leave of absence.
On January 21st, just before noon, I paused the novela I had promised myself I would watch no matter how silly and started doing the prep work for a mixed berry cobbler. Super Husband's father and I were discussing something inconsequential when I received a phone call from my cousin. This wasn't out of the ordinary, we had planned to meet up that day. What she said, though, wasn't "How does 6:30 at The Hobbit sound?" or anything equally benign. She called to inform me that our grandfather's heart had stopped.
This news, rather understandably, ... ... shook me to my core? ... changed my entire world? ... Still, almost two months later I have no words that even come close to describing the hole that he has left for so many of us.
Writing this is one of those times when a nearby box of tissues is necessary for me, the familial watering pot.
Okay. Let's take a break. Count to ten. Do some breathing exercise. Let's... let's go ahead and change the subject, shall we?
In other news... So, there's not that much other news for me, Wonder Wife, but Super Husband has a ton!
He loves his bike so much that he's going to take it on a two day, 180 mile ride from Houston to Austin on April 12th and 13th for the 30th Annual MS-150!!! If you have a few dollars (or more) burning a hole in your pocket, consider putting it to good use by donating to MS (Multiple Sclerosis) research, and help Super Husband beat his $400 fundraising goal!
Yesterday he trained for the MS150 by going on a 60 mile ride through the Magnolia countryside. Amazing, beautiful, and great, are only some of the words he used to describe the experience. He has also joined the Space City Cycling Club, and has been biking to and from school.
Tour de France? Probably not, but it certainly reduces our carbon footprint, and increases his cardiovascular health.
I haven't had a chance to use my own bike as much as I'd like, but now that the weather is warming up a bit I won't have to worry about blustery winds and freezing rain. Plus, I'm thinking about putting some of that lovely tax return money to good use by buying a trainer. No, not a personal trainer. A bike trainer. One of those things that you hook up to the back wheel so that you turn your real bike into a stationary bike. Genius.
Super Husband has also been substitute teaching at an "inner-city" high school three days a week, which he both loves and hates. Some days he comes home energized and excited, and others he comes home cursing any and everyone younger than we are. When he told his sister where he was teaching she said "Bless your soul." So, obviously he's not alone in lamenting.
And now it's time to deal with the cracked gas line that we need to replace before hot showers are an option.
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