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Sunday, November 23, 2008

patients, always a virtue

I'm bored. I don't feel like reading, and sitting at the computer makes me stiff and grumpy so far. I've knitted a scarf, and I'm well into the Blue Poles jigsaw. This is the third time I've done it (1: pregnant, 2: after I finished art school), and it's fulfilling the side of my brain that wants to be at the Book Stud, working. Sifting and sorting jigsaw pieces of blobs of paint is quite similar to dissing* hell type.**

A couple of days ago, Best Beloved started coughing. I made a joke that he was an illness diva, unable to watch me suffer without joining in and topping my pain. We laughed, but OH NOES! He has developed a man-flu cough. I think at least half the world knows what that means...

He is doing his best to stay nice, but he is naturally grumpy when ill (you do know, don't you?) and the best we have come up with is circling each other around our tiny house and trying not to cross paths too often. He is very worried that I might get the cough, and I'm grateful that he's thinking like this, as I sneezed for the first time a day or so ago and discovered the pain of abdominal paroxysm. A cough would indeed be hell.

I have, for a long time, been saying that when (when! I'm refusing to say IF) we expand our house, we should have separate bedrooms. It's always troubled BB, who seems to think that if we don't share our bed our marriage will crumble, unlike me, who thinks that, along with the dishwasher we bought as a wedding present, it can only strengthen our relationship. Well, last night we -- he -- pulled out the queen-size airbed from the garage, moved the loungeroom around, and we set up an alternate bed. I took the airbed for various reasons, one being that it's much more comfortable than our bed (and, I discovered last night, I can sleep sideways on it and it supports my stitches beautifully), and another being that I could watch tv in bed and go to bed as late as I wanted without huffs of nagging tiredness from the sleep nazi usually next to me. I love that man, I do, but he's dreadful in bed (on one level, anyway).

So both of us had a lovely sleep last night, and I greeted him this morning to find a man halfway on the road to Damask-us, much more willing to think upon the separate rooms debate. Hooray! One small step for me, etc. I'm thinking of staying on the airbed for a while, because of that nice support it gives me.

And he's still doing a good job of looking after me, as well as himself. Bumblebee is pretty much doing his own thing, playing with his stuff and chatting (loudly) to his friends on the phone.

This afternoon we all lolled around the lounge and watched Mon Oncle, a film that delights us all nearly as much as Tati's Monsieur Hulot's Holiday. I especially like the trip-traps of every female's high heels, which add to the film in a vaguely similar way that the sound of a typewriter adds to the film Atonement.

Afterwards Bumblebee and I watched Classic Albums on ABC2 which was exploring Stevie Wonder's Songs in the Key of Life, certainly one of my favorite albums. SW has always intrigued me; how can someone who can reach such heights of brilliance also get down to such depths of mediocrity? I mean, take someone like Billy Joel: you can draw a distinct line at the point in which his career turns to mush -- Christie Brinkley. With Michael Jackson, his career deteriorates as his face does, in a steady curve. What's Stevie's excuse? Meeting Paul McCartney? Hanging with Michael Jackson? Any opinions?

Hmm. Anyhoo, back to the jigsaw. I'm certain I'll be bored enough to start doing something creative soon, but so far the braincells just haven't regenerated enough after the big sleep at the hospital. I am enjoying this cold snap we're having, because it's always nicer feeling housebound in a fluffy dressing gown and slippers, don't you think?






* putting back into the type cases: DISTRIBUTE, not DISRESPECT.
** letterpress that has been set and forgotten, often for years, sometimes jumbled up or bumped, sometimes of different fonts.

10 comments:

kris said...

Ah! I do understand the two rooms debate... I was in year 10 when my parents marriage broke up and my bf at the time - oh so knowingly - cheered me up with the statement 'don't worry... when they drop off the twig you'll have a house for you and a house for your husband'. Sweet. And in hindsight disturbingly correct for one so young...

I love the cold! It's like a parting gift from winter... and thar is snow on dem thar hills... if you look close enough!

As to SW I have no wisdom... his decline is a mystery to me... but something to ponder for sure...

Dean said...

I reckon SW hit the down-hill run when he stopped being angry, stopped writing political messages and went pop.

The only reason I say that is that he seemed the most fired up when he was talking about Obama at the Brisbane concert.

I'll send you a link to the video on Facebook.

Another Outspoken Female said...

I am a big fan of the two bedroom thing. It's not just about having another bed to go to in times of illness, different sleep patterns or a pissed partner but its the psychological space, knowing that you can (or they can) sleep elsewhere if you choose.

The not-boyfriend is away for a couple of weeks and I am so loving the bed to myself, having unbroken 8 hours of sleep is like manna from heaven (or the atheist equivalent of). I love him deeply but good sleep is very tempting.

Glad you are getting bored - its a good sign, you are healing :)

fifi said...

It's a horrible thing, having to share your sleep space, a truly awful thing I will never get used to.



Hope you are feeling better soon!

JahTeh said...

Even twin beds are not as good as two rooms (connecting door though)for glorious sleeping. I have a queen size bed and I can't imagine how I managed with a bloke beside me. What did I do with the books, the tissues, the walkman and writing equipment for the flash of genius in the night when he took up half the space?

Don't cough or sneeze, I'd feel the pain in Melbourne.

Fiona said...

We only do the two rooms when ill.. like at themoment :( Mostly because we'reboth snorers when sick.

mrsmadrigal said...

I live alone and love it. I enjoy visiting family and friends but it's always a pleasure to return to my solitarium*

I've become quite selfish in my dotage.

*Jenny Diski's word which I've shamelessly appropriated.

Elsewhere007 said...

Perhaps more blogging could ease the boredom?

Ampersand Duck said...

Dean, I think you're on to it. It's the best explanation I've heard, anyway.

Perhaps, Elsewhere. I'll get on to it!

I feel wicked when I think of how much I love sleeping alone. I think sleeping alone with someone you love in the next room would be the ultimate in happy.

AJ said...

I love the blog - glad to hear the recovery is going well.

My partner and I have seperate rooms, and we have a system where we sleep alternate nights together and apart, with a bit of flexibility for stuff like needing to get up extra early, illness, in the mood for reading late etc.

That way we get the good sleep and the space one night, and the cosiness of sleeping together the next. And I do really like having my own room.