Mark always takes at least one solo trip in the summer, sometimes more. Historically, these times have been when my life falls apart, sometimes by coincidence—I got laid off while Mark was away in summer 2023, and Alice got really sick in summer 2024, both fairly randomly—sometimes possibly correlation is causation—I got into wild arguments with the drycleaner one year and Leon’s the other, and while in both cases the other people were WRONG and eventually gave me some money and apologized, it did not need to all get so dramatic and probably would not have if I had had anyone in house to talk to before making another angry phone call. I also have had more minor problems like the air conditioner breaking, getting trapped by a subway outage, etc. etc. I am writing this about 36 hours before Mark returns from his current trip and nothing has gone wrong yet, which is unnerving. WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN?
In the meantime, I have been having a pleasant long weekend of semi-solitude. Back in the day I considered myself a very independent person but as we all know marriage makes you weak, and in previous times of Marklessness, I went a bit bats trying to be alone in the house for days on end, so I had very nice guests both yesterday and the day before, and will be heading out to a lunch potluck shortly. Other hallmarks of the Markless times 2026:
1) Refusing to turn on the stove. Mark is a big fan of hot food, as is his mother and everyone on his mother’s side of the family (we figured this out at his uncle’s funeral, when this specific trait was mentioned in a eulogy). I do not care as passionately and, especially in summer, occasionally like to eat a meal that has not been cooked. I have made it three days so far, aided by takeout last night. It’s been great. Cheeseboards and meal salads for…not all, but for I!
2) Keeping the kitchen meticulously clean all day long. I am a tidy person married to a another tidy person and we fight about tidiness styles constantly—it’s really dumb. Mark would prefer to do one bout of kitchen cleansing every evening—empty the dishwasher, refill the dishwasher with the accumulated dirty dishes that have piled on the counter, put away leftovers, clean up spills, wash the dishes that don’t go in the dishwasher, etc. This is a totally fine way to live except for that I have look at a dirty kitchen 70% of the time and I hate it and it’s terrible. Alone—and, admittedly, eating mainly cheese and sushi—I can clean each speck of dirt or disarray immediately as it’s created, and it is as if the kitchen has never been used. Bliss.
3) Swimming.
4) Being ignored by cats. The cats like Mark better than me, this much we knew. It is starting to appear on this trip that they do not like me at ALL, and have largely ignored me except at mealtimes this weekend, which has been a bit sad. The first day Mark was gone, they noticed after a couple hours, which honestly could have been a day at the office or a dentist appointment at that point—but they knew and rioted outside his closed office door, finally subsiding into depressive sleep. Very strange. I have told them he will be back soon but they, as ever, ignore me.
5) Descaling the showerhead. This is one of those five minute tasks that I have been procrastinating on for months and finally, without Mark demanding all my attention, have been able to deal with. I have never had a showerhead that got gross lime deposits on it before, but the internet said it’s a thing and it’s fine, just soak it in 50% CLR and 50% water for 2-3 minutes, then scrub with an old toothbrush. I have no faith with internet household tips—this one worked like magic and I barely even had to scrub, and now my showerhead is no longer disgusting. The only downside is that CLR smells putrid—not even like a cleaning product, but sort of like burning hair? I was so sure it was toxic that I closed off the shower until I used it this morning and could super rinse it down because the cats go in there a lot and drink the water in the drain. And once again, tragic FURY and CAT RIOTING. PS—for some reason, Mark bought 4 litres of CLR for this, our first and likely only CLR-related project. So if you want to descale your showerhead or do anything else or just scent your home with burning hair without matches, please don’t buy any but come to my house with a container and I’ll give you some.
6) Watching The Four Seasons, a pleasant, only mildly irritating show about middle-aged people bothering their spouses. It’s not the best show in the world but I like it a lot—I also appreciate that it is structured neatly with 8 episodes a year, 2 per season. I was hanging with some young people today and when talking about shows we like I realized i could not recommend a show about people in their 50s wondering if they should stay married to a bunch of 22-year-olds because how utterly grim, but for a certain demographic, this is pretty funny and apt. I finished that on Friday night and was then forced to return to a world in which I do not like any television but it was nice while it lasted.
7) Listening to 10:04 by Ben Lerner on audiobook every time I walk anywhere, which is a lovely companion.
That’s about it. A pretty good weekend, overall.
Where has Mark gone, you may wonder. Stanfest, the festival in memory of the musician Stan Rogers in Canso, Nova Scotia (check out that article on the festival—it’s a gift link—you may know the author). Mark goes every year and it’s apparently a beautiful event where you can hear lots of great new music and meet lots of cool people and see a beautiful part of the country. I have never and will never go. More on this:
MS and RR visit with friends, another heterosexual couple and their young son.
MS: And so next weekend I’ll be at Stanfest.
Guy Friend: I hope next year we can join you. If everything works out.
RR (opens mouth in alarm)
MS: That would be so great. There’s always room in the tent.
GF: We would love to be there. It sounds so cool.
RR: Really?
GF: Oh yeah.
Woman Friend (silent, maybe not paying attention)
RR (more urgently): You’re going to go to this? You’re going to camp at StanFest? You’d have to sleep on the ground. They don’t have showers!
WF: What? Oh, no, not me. Them. (indicates husband and son)
GF: Oh yeah, we would go. (hugs son)
RR: Oh, ok. Yeah, that’s fine. They can go. (points at woman friend) We can have a slumber party here. And shower every day.
MS (yelling from the kitchen) They DO have showers at Stanfest. They just don’t really work.
