January 27, 2024
Saturday was finally here. We’ve been waiting for this day for the past six months. We woke up early, washed some clothes, and then my wife made us coffee while I tended to the dogs. It was our last full day together for a while. After coffee, we took Bodhi into the woods for a walk. My wife and I talked as we made our way down the trail, and Bodhi stuck unusually close to us, happy as could be.
My wife needed to pick up a few last-minute supplies, so in the afternoon, we drove back to Wilson. While there, we stopped at a new restaurant we found online. It was a traditional Mexican restaurant, named Los Tres Huastecos, kind of in the middle of nowhere. That was the first time I had been to that side of the city, but the restaurant was nice and had an interesting menu: sporting birria, puerco en salsa verde, tortas, and more. My wife ordered some lamb while I ate the pork ribs smothered in a green chili sauce. We sat outside in a small area with tables. Lunch was nice and quiet. After a while, the owner came to talk to us, telling us about his uncle who cooked recipes prepared by them both. He was polite, and the cook used to live in Dallas, my old stomping grounds. I promised to return for the torta con chilequiles.
When we arrived home, we were ready for some caffeine, so my wife showed me how to use the new espresso machine. We’ve always had a machine that produced lattes and cappuccinos, but this machine was relatively new. Our former machine broke, and we opted for a new design. I successfully graduated the course and became the house assistant-barista, something that would come in handy in my wife’s absence.
A little later in the day, I went into the woods to gather firewood, toting a large four-wheeled cart with knobby tires behind me. In the pine grove, there are sections of dead trees that produce great firewood. I spent about an hour cutting and breaking limbs, getting satisfaction from placing large branches against the trunks of a live trees, only to kick and snap them as if I was taking out someone’s knee. That crack (cracking sound) was addictive.
After hauling the cart full of wood to the backyard, I used a new wood splitter I bought to break any logs down into smaller kindling. The splitter, called the Kindling Cracker Firewood, was invented by a school-aged student in New Zealand. It worked really well and seemed more sensible than placing a sharp axe in my wife’s hands.
At about 4 PM, we lit up the Solo Stove on the rear deck, picking the party up where we had left off the night before. Country music permeated the backyard while we talked, played with the dogs, and sipped on cold beer. The afternoon clouded up, and it rained lightly, but the weather did not deter us. We stayed outside, sitting in the rain for at least three more hours. At some point, we heated the Traeger grill and threw on a couple of ribeyes while the air cooker crisped up some thick cut fries. Dinner was phenomenal.
The evening was fun, and great conversation ensued. Although my wife was leaving the next day, we were prepared and excited for her new rotation. While we don’t like being apart, we’ve known about this trip for a while. The new rotation involves a topic my wife is passionate about and checks the box on the start of the seventh of twelve rotations. The end of graduate school is in sight. Time stands still for no one. But the sooner you start the work, the quicker you’ll finish. With this realization, we slept well, feeling ready for the next day.