I was planning to whine a little. You see I got back from Maryland and I was really, really tired. Got up at 4am after a late night to get to the train the first night. Four hours sleep the second night, because I was (you pity me, right?) drinking wine with Dmitry Orlov, Megan Bachman, John Michael Greer and other cool people until the wee hours. Then my train pulled into NYC close to midnight and I didn’t get to bed at the Hotel In-Law until the wee hours again. Up at dawn to catch the next leg of the train up to home, with guests coming a couple hours later. So I was most definitely planning to milk it a little bit – after all, I was totally exhausted from my hard, important work on energy depletion and poverty issues.
Until we pulled into the driveway and I learned that my beloved had pulled all-nighter to deliver not one but five goat kids – two beautiful doelings from Maia at 4am (Marshmallow and Licorice) and then triplets (two bucks and a doe named Goldenrod, Basil and Calendula) at 8 from Bast. And he’d cleaned for our coming guest, bathed all four kids, given a reading lesson, a Hebrew lesson and supervised piano practice, cooked lunch for 8 and was planning on cooking dinner for 13, along with doing all the routine chores and child care. Oh, and without me even saying anything, when I said “you must be exhausted” he said “oh, but I’m sure you are too.
Okay, guess that’s a big old no on the pity card. And boy am I lucky woman – even if my husband does regularly make me look more than a bit trifling.