For over a year, Cliff has been working ten-hour days, four days a week. He would leave for work at 2:30 P.M. and get back home at 3 A.M. I woke him up each morning at 10 (his request). He moves slowly in the morning, so by the time he was ready for us to go for our walk, it was usually after 11. We'd get back before noon and it was time for me to tend to dinner, which was at 1 P.M. Often I'd prepare something before Cliff got up in the morning and just reheat it.
As you can see, he didn't have much time for anything else on the four days he worked. The three-day weekends were nice, though.
We were only in bed together for an hour or two each night, since I'm always wide awake by 5. I'd be too hungry to wait till Cliff got up, so we ate breakfast at different times.
Every three months, the employees where he works have the chance to switch to eight-hour days, five days a week. He and Tony, the guy he rides with, decided to do it this time.
I like this so much better!
We can eat breakfast together; we take our walk, and I still have plenty of time to prepare a meal. Cliff says eight hours absolutely flies past, after working ten hours for so long.
Of course, at this stage it's all temporary, since he plans to retire in June anyhow. He says that ever since he decided to retire, it's really hard to go to work. He's anxious for June.
For that matter, so am I.
Now, on to the weather. A few days ago the forecast for Christmas Eve was highs in the fifties and sunshine. "We'll go on a quick motorcycle ride," I told Cliff.
I should have known better than to trust a long-range forecast. Now they're talking about sleet and snow and wintry mixes and I don't know what-all.
Ever since Cliff's doctor yelled at us about his weight, he's been doing better. He lost eight pounds, briefly put it back on over Thanksgiving, then lost it again. Starting New Year's, we're both going to get serious. I mean, really serious. I won't be putting that little ticker thing on the sidebar telling what I've lost, because that doesn't seem to help the cause at all, and it makes me feel even worse if I fail, knowing everybody is watching.
We've done it before, although I'll admit the older we get, the harder it is to lose weight. But I certainly don't want to face the wrath of that doctor again!
I won't be harping on the weight thing on this blog; nothing is more boring than hearing about calories and carbs and so forth. Wish us luck!