The river is still up and all the major highways into town are closed. You can get in and out via alleys if you know the right ones. But at least we have running water and the use of our toilets. In St. Clair, they have to use porta pots. Imagine getting up in the dark of night to use a porta pot on the corner under a street light.
Last night Regis and I decided to camp out on the porch. We put the blow-up bed out there, hung some patio lights, and got the gimpy dog to curl up on the couch. We woke up about midnight, very uncomfortable, and moved the camping trip into our real bed. It was a nice idea but not very practical.
Peter has gone to stay with his dad in Eagle Lake for a few days until the water recedes and he can drive back and forth to Mankato without filling the gas tank in the middle. He packed enough clothes to stay for a month.
We suspect that Peter has a love interest. He has mentioned the name of a young woman, told us where she’s from, and told us that she goes to school in Mankato. This is way more information than we ever gotten in the past from him about anything. When he was in high school, asking what he had for lunch was considered a personal question.
These are the reasons we are suspicious:
- Frequent showers and haircuts
- Frequent shopping trips
- Preening in front of the mirror
- Asking us what we think of his clothing as he prepares to go out
- Asking us what we think of his cologne (57 dollars a bottle)
- Purchasing hygiene products. In the past he was content with anything he could scavenge from our bathroom closet.
- Mentioning that the young woman asked if she could ever come to his house. I suggested he avoid taking her to the basement where the cobwebs are pronounced and the junk fruitful.
I’ve told him that I won’t be happy if the first I know of a girlfriend is when I see his marriage license in the newspaper. This happened to some friends of ours and it caused them some major angst.
Regis applied for a job last week and had an interview on Friday. Of course, we thought he was perfectly qualified for the job but they wanted someone with more experience. Harrumph. I will admit to a tiny little selfish thought…if he got this great job, I would commence writing my letter of retirement. Most of my thinking was for him: he has worked so hard for this, he has been disappointed by jobs before, and he deserves this good thing. Through our conversations the last few days, I’ve realized some things again about this sweet man I am married to. He cares about my welfare as much as his own, maybe more. He takes such good care of me…making sure my car is filled with gas, my lunch is packed, my clothes are clean, my computer works. He seems to know my state of mind as well, maybe better, than I do. I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve him but our life together is good and happy.