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Who’s the crab?

One of the challenging things about marriage is relationship management. In the corporate world, we go to training classes, seminars, mentoring, internal training, and read books on how to get along. In marriage, we wing it. In work, you leave the people you "relate" to at the door at 5pm. In marriage, you are glued to each other non-stop. People are creatures of habit and routine. We come to expect a person to be a particular way with a particular attitude. Vacations wreck havoc on routines, bring a new set of stresses and the unknown. Our attitudes and moods change with a vacation.

This morning I felt rested and relaxed. Evan rose at 6:30am and asked that I rise with him. I thought I’d be nice and let everyone else sleep in. Evan and I enjoyed some time together watching cartoons, playing with toys, and eating breakfast. I was happy. So I thought. When Cathy rose, I noted to myself that she was grouchy but I said nothing figuring that her morning caffeine was not working yet. Then came a moment where she complained about how I was relaxed then became terse and crabby when Evan got up. So who is right? Which one of us is the morning grouch? Doesn’t matter. Once someone declares me grouchy or crabby I turn into an ugly person. My mind decides, "Why try to be nice if when you are trying its not working?" Karma gets me back though. In my exasperation, I went to the porch to get some air and the door sprung back in my face spilling coffee on my most comfortable shorts.

Were either of us crabby? Probably not. We were probably working two different agendas and our moods are different than the usual. Subconsciously we probably assessed the other as off and because the other wasn’t working the same unspoken plan, labeled them crabby.

It’s a beautiful day today. I think I’ll spend it on the computer.

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Masked Marauders Falling from the Sky

I just heard the most awful screaming outside like cats fighting buy only different. A quick glance to the couch assured me the dogs were inside, safe and not causing problems. I bolted outside but didn’t make it one step beyond the threshold of the front door for staring at me was a raccoon! As a leaves and a flower floated down from the tree above, I shot quick looks for the cat because sure the cat and raccoon were having a territorial issue. No, she sat calmly on the brick end of the wall where her food bowl stays out of the dogs’ reach. She stared at the ‘coon as if to voice, "what’s your problem?" The raccoon was stunned and so was I. Before I could pull my senses together enough to take a picture, since it was only 5 feet away from me, the raccoon waddled off. I looked up and there in the tree were two other raccoons looking down. Obviously they had a disagreement and this one was either pushed for fell 50 or 60 feet to the ground. Wonder if it is hurt. These must be the family of 5 cute babies that used to raid our garbage so long ago. They have grown into plump adults. I bet the clan is down to three (or maybe two now).