The Chopping Duet
Undone. Spent. Exhausted by our day's work, my hubby and I went to the respective corners of our post-workplace boxing rings and had it out.
I, with a chef's knife in hand and five pounds of the very last apples in Oklahoma. He, with a handsaw, saw horses and a power saw, cutting up lumber he had saved for the last eight years.
I was making dinner. He was working on a storage shed.
There were holes and some bad spots in the apples. I cut them out.
There were warped two-by-fours he couldn't use, or...could only use half. He cut off the bad pieces.
A small pile of chopped apples grew larger as the five pounds of whole apples disappeared from my cabinet top. The large pile of lumber grew smaller as his storage shed became more complete.
Dinner was done. Hubby was done. I was done.
We sat down and ate in silence. All the "chop" was out of us. All the day's exhaustion poured into our work at home that doesn't feel nearly like work at Work.
We wiped our faces with our respective napkins, hugged each other and went to bed.
The duet did not cease, but rather, became a lullaby of slumber and dreams.
No chopping allowed. At least, not aloud.
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Best, Red Dirt Kelly