Getting Wood

The wood man was arriving between 9.30am and 11.30am. He arrived at 9.15am, he was early. He’s nice, I like him. We chatted. That’s good, so I can get it stacked. And put my car away again. Wood for next year, so it can dry out over summer. Sorted. It’s a very satisfying thing, getting the wood sorted for next year. Wood is now expensive, and it is probably cheaper to use gas, but I love an open fire. It’s one of the few things I can do well, light an open fire. 

We pissed around until midday doing screens mostly, you know, as you do. We walked to Victoria Street. 

We looked at the house for sale in Oxford Street on our way. It just happened to be open for inspection, so you have to go in and take a look. It was okay.

I was really hungry by the time we got to the Vietnamese restaurant to eat. We ate Vietnamese pancake and meat rolls with noodles and wantons. It is always messy. Lot's of bodily fluids, er. sweet chilli and fish sauce. 

We did the grocery shopping.

Sam tried to get me to carry the bags of shopping home that he sees fit for me to carry home. He does it all the time. He tests the weight of the bags and then he gives me the ones he doesn’t want to carry. He tried it on, but I wouldn’t let him change. He tried very hard to get me to change, as he always does. You know, if you keep going on it, the other one usually gives in through exhaustion, if nothing else. I didn’t give in.

Sam sulked. His bottom lip curled over. He fell back as we walked. He sat down and looked sad. I waited but he didn’t try to catch up. So, I walked home.

We didn’t speak for the rest of the afternoon. I tried to get him to talk, as initially I am sure he was only half joking. 

“Come on pumpkin, snap out of it before you really get in a bad mood.”

He didn’t snap out of it. And he got in a really silent mood. I don’t know if he just gots shitty? Or, he knows I hate the silent treatment.

I had a head ache and I didn’t have the energy, so I lay down on the couch and closed my eyes.

We ate red curry for dinner. He cooked, he always cooks. He served it up in silence, me waking up again. 

We didn’t really talk again until after dinner, when I asked him if he wanted an ice cream. That broke down the silent treatment and he smiled. Maybe, he was just exhausted from keeping it up. The silent treatment is exhausting. And suddenly we were friends again, and all that stuff just melted away. Back to normal.

We went to bed at 11.30pm.