Our plan for our first full day was that we might go to the supermarket for victualing, then to eat at a sushi restaurant, and then to a movie.
We started late. Very late, in fact. I slept in, and I think for excellent reason: ``Work'' forces me to get up much earlier than is my natural inclination so I run a sleep gap I try making up on the weekends, and that Saturday I had to get up even earlier than I do for ``work'' just worsened things. And I stayed up to my usual weekend late hours, the ones I tend to by nature, the night before, so it's actually modestly remarkable I got up at all on Sunday. bunny_hugger slept to a roughly similar hour, at least to the best of my knowledge at the time, so we ended up concluding that maybe we'd be better off planning to go to the supermarket after the movie.
And we got to getting ready for the day. I don't want to talk about the many features of the human body related to its biology, most of which are gross except when they're distressing, but little things like compatible bathroom habits are, I think, useful to couples' real-world happiness. Moreso since her house has just the one bathroom and I haven't shared a bathroom since my second year of grad school. (Well, a little later than that, if you count having guests over overnight in my ``efficiency'' apartment. Still, it's been a while.) But there again we don't have radically different views on how long to spend in there, which is the most important thing regarding getting ready for the day. That we don't squabble over who brushes teeth first is a good sign.
In the event we got downstairs and started checking e-mail and daily comics and the other little bits of Internet activity that are at least as important as the daily shower. And there was the enjoyment of that simple, lovely quiet, the joy of catching one another's eyes and smiling, or just looking at the other unnoticed and realizing one doesn't want to do anything else. I'm fairly sure she felt the same way, since we ended up spending more time than we'd expected ``getting ready'' for the day, and soon realized that we would have to see the movie first, and then go to the restaurant, and after that go to the supermarket, which happily is open very late. We were planning for an evening show, too.
Probably it's worth pointing out that, happily, we're both night people.
Trivia: On 12 July 1776, the British ships Phoenix and Rose, with three tenders, sailed from Staten Island up the Hudson River toward Tarrytown. American artillery all along the Hudson River (at Red Hook, Governor's Island, Fort George, Fort Washington, and others) fired something like 200 shots, 150 from New York City alone, without any great effect other than killing six Americans when their cannon exploded. Source: 1776, David McCullough.
Currently Reading: Amelia Earhart: A Biography, Doris L Rich. It's an abnormal biography, for me, because I'm coming out of this with a worsened impression of Earhart's abilities. I'm used to being more impressed by whoever I've been reading about. But what I can't avoid taking away is Earhart as a more reckless flyer than I imagined, more eager than I'd thought to leap into the air without doing the tedious slog of full preparation --- for example, not learning Morse Code at ... maybe not at all, certainly not at the speeds useful for communicating in-flight. That's forgivable for 1922 when radio was still in many ways a charming theory especially on vehicles, but by 1937? For that matter, deciding to just do without the antenna that would allow access to half the radio channels that were available to her? Her disappearance is treated with the briefness of dull but probable reality, which is also a refreshing change; oddly missing is the epilogue giving ``living ever after'' for the key people in her life, or her cultural influence outside the luggage industry since then.