Knowing T is almost a curse sometimes. I’ve never met a man in that holds a candle with his words. He speaks my language, but more than that? I crave words from him like my first dive into the lake each year. It’s the same heart racing split second pause in time. A thousand only make me want 5 thousand more.
I hear him. I listen… I hang on every syllable. I may have been accused at some point of taking it too easy on him, but to be honest, it’s simply because I agree with him on a lot of things. We are similar, and so deliciously different at the same time.
More than anything, I’m a little crazy about him. Ok…a lot. How can any self professed domesticated pinup not love a Sharky Pirate. Handsome, determined, loving, not to mention words as sweet as honey dripping from his beautiful mouth, respectfully even!
I loved him after the first sentence… and he blew me out of the water with the last one today.
My natural reaction to feeling like I’ve been read like a book…. and treasured?
I made apple cobbler…
I’m canning golden raspberry jam. I’m knitting. I took my favorite camera out and took pictures of the beautiful golden maple leaves surrounding my house. I stopped today… and took a moment to be thankful for everything beautiful and wonderful I’m blessed with.
- For my dear T… for so many nice words and such kind delivery of the harsh truth…
- For my family, especially my mom- who helps out so much covering the hours I’m at work.
- For the job that challenges, exhausts and sustains me. I get to dress up in a nun habit for work tonight and I’m damn excited. 
And for all the garbage too.
-For the broken chair I can’t fix- because HEY- I’ve learned what doesn’t work, and I’m throwing that stupid thing away.
- For the friends I’m loyal to who do not return the favor- because HEY- they make me appreciate my real friends even more and it offers me some more free time for the people that are worthy of my loyalty.
- For the moment I drove past my ex’s house and saw my boat sitting there… and didn’t hate him- because HEY- it means I’m evolving a little. Someday I might be able to see it without praying it sinks.
My mom laughed at me when I poured my heart out yesterday…
M- You goof ball… you are so much more than a pretty face and a bunch of words.
Pulling myself back to center… picking raspberries in the early twilight with my mama, who is still wearing the first hat I ever knit, and it’s atrocious. Itchy, purple, lime & magenta… ugh… and she wont even consider giving it up.
J- Good God Mom, please let me knit you something pretty.
M- You stay away from my hat, I love this. It’s from you, it’s your first one; and I treasure it.
She’s in knee pads, garden gloves and my crazy creation…. wearing a sweatshirt my sister and I made her. She’s singing some random Lady Gaga song, planting garlic while I pick berries.
Welcome to my center. My happy place… my home. She from whence I came… now you know why I’m happier in the dirt. Even when it’s cold, its where I run for comfort. Back to my mama, back to the garden… back to where it’s all just simple. Clean or dirty. Alive or dead. Edible or poisonous.
A feeling that comes with me when I leave. I bring it home and make the house smell like I feel. Warm, cinnamon-y and sugary spicy sweet. Soaking golden raspberries in lemon juice and sugar. Toasting pumpkin seeds. Knitting my mom a new hat, for crying out loud, I cannot have her running around in that ugly thing.
Listening quietly and watching everything around me unfold just like it’s supposed to.
Holding my breath a little to breathe in the amount of nice words blown like kisses or shot like arrows in my direction from my favorite example of a man.
Exhaling quietly and smiling brightly. Realizing he may be right, and at some point, this too may pass. This quiet solitary domesticity may give way to a viable romantic life at some point. Or it wont. Either way, I’ll have beautiful hats, gloves, socks, etc and my loved ones will be well fed in the meantime.
Some girls shop, some cry, some date all the wrong guys (ahem) and some actually realize at some point that there’s only one thing you need to do.
Hope only for what’s worth your time and spend precious moments only on the people worthy of the sacrifice.
That’s the lesson T teaches me.
Ohhhhh Thomas…
The island enigma at the center of my heart and so many miles away, the man of my dreams and the X to my O…
The reality of you makes it very hard to want anyone or anything else.
Yeah… you give me a serious case of drapetomania.
