My husband has garbage issues. Specifically, he has a hard time remembering when it is garbage day. It's on the same day every week, and almost every week, as he's backing out of the driveway, he sees the neighbours around us, with their recycling and garbage out at the curb, and he pulls back up to the house and takes it out. This is just who he is. He has one of those memories that forgets such things.
Today, when he left it was dark, because he was meeting some men for coffee and a bible study. When the sky lightened up, and I looked out the front door, I realized he had forgotten the garbage again. The plan was for him to go straight to work after coffee.
Grumbling and sighing, and wondering why on earth God had not given me a husband with a better memory for such domestic duties, I went upstairs to get my sweat pants on so I could get the garbage out. Mrs. Inner Gollum just chanted, "We hates to take out the garbage, we does."
In my best martyr demeanor, I went outside into the cool fall air take out the recylcling. We have two bins: one for paper and the other for cans and plastic. As I came a back from taking the paper box out, I was met with a very striking fall sky. I hurried inside and got my camera, putting on a wide angle lens and climbing up on the picnic table. This is what I saw:
Now, had my husband not forgotten the garbage, I would never have seen that. The window over my desk faces east, and this was in the norther sky, so I didn't see those lovely contrasts. Clearly, I was meant to see that. I felt bad for my grumbling. I should be thankful that I have a husband to do these things for me in the first place. I don't have broken legs or arms, and garbage isn't all that heavy. I should have just told Mrs. Inner Gollum to go look for a raw fish.
He came home to take the garbage out before he went to work. There could be rice pudding in his future.