two views, one weekend

After I shredded my journals Myron asked for the leftover hardcovers. 

“Why?” Every muscle tensed. Myron likes to create gizmos. He inherited this from his dad; both Samsin men are perfectionists and often want things that no manufacturer has already created in just the right way. Sometimes this backfires. 

This time it didn’t. He took a glossy green marbled cover and filled it with a DIY day planner. Pre-printed planner pages are weird; they put things in the wrong spots and nothing is sized to your handwriting and there are flowers and inspirational quotes when you want clean lines and logic. He designed the pages in AutoCAD and put in enough sheets to give the layout a good trial run and change it if some aspect of the design doesn’t work out. And I love that he took something that I’d filled with so much idiocy and turned it into something useful, especially something that he’ll have with him during the day at work. One man’s trash, and all that.

With the wind blowing and the early darkness, Sunday night called out for Scrabble. I set up the board and Myron retrieved the chess clock from its display shelf.

All I know for sure about the clock is that it’s Soviet and that sometimes the clock on my side doesn’t like to work properly. But it smells like old wood and I love to hear its echoing noise while I’m staring at my miserable rack of Q K T W W R X. Scrabble can use a shot of adrenaline, and somehow the clock seems to make all the difference—I’ve won both of the games we played since we started time limits, and last night I defeated the bookbinder by more than a hundred points. (Poor thing, he had all the vowels.)

It was a tiny, close to home weekend. I wrote a gigantic letter and immersed myself in reading about paper and calligraphy. I made bok choy with ginger and chili and forgot about the clothes in the dryer, as you do. (Or maybe you don’t, you housekeeping marvel you.) Finally, finally, I am breathing normally again and barely coughing at all. I feel like this week has possibility in it—I know they all do, really, but this Monday morning, I really feel it. I look at the calendar in that first picture and think yes, let’s fill this one up right.