It took awhile, but Bruce finally caught the cold that I've been throwing at him for the past two weeks. He gave it up and came home before noon yesterday and has been sniffling and hacking ever since.
However, that didn't stop us from trotting out in the frozen air last night to view meteor showers. Actually, the first time he told me that he was doing this I never moved off the chair in front of my computer. No way was I leaving the nice warm house to search for tiny streaks of light in the sky. So, off he went and here I sat. When he came in 10 minutes later, though, to get his camera and told me that he'd seen about seven meteors shoot past, I changed my mind. I wore my slippers, though.
So there we stood in the circular drive in front of the house, craning our heads back to look at a brilliant winter sky. The beauty of the moment was somewhat marred by our intermittent breaks to loudly cough and blow noses. I'm sure it was during these times that the majority of meteors flashed by.
It was an uncomfortable and rather silly thing to do, especially when sick, but we had a good time. As there was nothing to do but stand and look up (between nose-blows), we talked together and had the most complete conversation we've had together all week. We both also saw the same brilliant meteor -- one of the largest I've ever seen -- that silently arced right overhead.
After a few more minutes, I gave it up and my soggy slippers and I went back inside to be with the cats. Bruce braved the cold for awhile longer on his own and then he came in too.
The evening was, in a word, splendid.