Talk Soup

I got nothing done yesterday that I’d intended, other than depositing my paycheck. Liz came out for lunch and we got Shalimar with Cavan. At one point I mentioned, half jokingly, how he was moving out. He got defensive almost immediately, saying he’d only briefly – and in passing – sort of said something about maybe moving out. In fact, he said, he was planning on signing another one year lease with us. This surprised me. I got the definite impression last Saturday that he’d be gone before fall, moving back to Minneapolis.
I’m not going to say that I didn’t start considering a certain amount of privacy I (we) might soon have, but it’s definitely going to be easier on our finances (both Charlie and myself working part time, both in school) and with the dogs. And, if he’s trying to save money, he’ll have a job, which means he won’t be home all the time. Because it’s really difficult to save money without income.

Also, below is a word-for-word conversation I had at my cousin’s Navy going-away-party this afternoon with an elderly woman I have never met in my life:
Old Lady: I just love these sorts of nice get-togethers.
Me: Yeah . . . They’re nice.
Old Lady: They’re nice because they’re very casual.
Me: We’re not formal people.
Old Lady: My friends and I like to have little get-togethers every few months.
Me: Oh, really?
Old Lady: Mmm-hmmm. We just had a soup party the other day.
Me: Oh? You have everyone bring a different soup?
Old Lady: Oh, yes, we had three different kinds!
Me: Three, huh? I guess that could be a lot.
Old Lady: Do you like soup?
Me: Yes, I like soup.
Old Lady: I do, too. I like soup a lot.


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