Thoughts dance in my mind, crashing into one another and bouncing off the edges. I woke from a dream, caught up in the memory of a life I don’t know. I dream and it’s not me, but I can’t cast aside the thoughts; it’s as if it WAS me. Why do I dream someone else’s life? I toss and turn, craving sleep but unable to find rest. If I sleep again will the story continue? Will I again be me but not?
Rain pouring down and cold damp air; I could feel it seeping into my skin. A streetlamp and people moving around just past the edges, I knew they were there, but they were merely figures moving with no care or interest in me. He walked beside me, slightly behind until I turned and teasingly said “Keep up or I’ll be walking alone.” He lengthened his stride and walked close to me, touching my shoulder with his arm. I could feel him there, but not quite see him. I suddenly stopped walking and turned toward him. The light shone on his face yet I still couldn’t see him clearly; like the picture in my mind was overexposed and too bright. He was taller than me, but not by much. For some reason I was very aware of that and gave it a few seconds thought; like I was surprised to notice it. My thoughts were in my head but not my own and in my dreaming state I KNEW that but couldn’t sort me from the dream. I stood facing him, so close that a deep breath would have made us touch. I ached to take his hand; I felt as if he was slipping away. I could see his face suddenly but even now as I write, cannot put a name or a real person in his place but I felt, feel even now as if I knew him deeply. It’s a sensation that wraps around my emotions and pulls at me; like I’ve lost something and can almost remember where to find it, but not quite.
I heard myself speak “I don’t want to push you away.” The tone was urgent and pleading. The voice; not my own. He looked at me for a long moment, silent and searching my face. “You aren’t. Pushing me away that is. But…there is too much.” I have no clue what that meant; “too much” what? In my dream it was as if I knew; but here, in the light of my computer, I have nothing but a leftover yearning.
I felt as if the world had shifted slightly underneath my feet; I was hyper aware of every breath and heartbeat, then slowly and deliberately I turned and walked away, leaving him to stand or to follow, I don’t know which because oddly when I turned, I could see ME as if I was now watching from a different body.
I woke and for a few moments did not know where I was or for that matter WHO I was. In a flash the dream played out again and I realized that it had been a dream and not MY reality. Even in the writing of this; I feel a lingering sense of having popped into another life. I know it was a dream; the feelings though, will stay with me for awhile I think.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
I’m dreaming, I know I am but I don’t want to wake.
You sitting on a sofa, I see you clearly; wearing jeans and a rumpled button down. Your elbows are on your knees and your head in your hands. The room is almost dark, but I see you clearly. A man who has lived; some great times and some that have left deep scars. No longer the boy I used to know, yet he is there too. I sense that this moment is a wounded moment in time for you.
I’m sitting in front of you, on a table or an ottoman, I don’t see it, just know it is there. I can see myself, as if I’m in two worlds at the same moment. One inside my skin and feeling my heart beat and one standing silent and observing, as if watching a movie. I long to touch you, to reach out and take your hands from your head and press your palms to my face. I want to ease the pain you are suffering but I’m frozen and waiting for you.
After many heartbeats, you raise your eyes to meet mine. Yours are washed in pain, the tears barely held back. You search my eyes, as if I have answers to unspoken questions. I do not.
As if the act of looking at me released me from my paralyzed state; I reach for you. I cannot help myself; the wanting of you, the urge to wipe away your pain is too much to even consider resisting. My hands find yours and I bring first one palm to my lips and kiss it, keeping my eyes on yours, unwavering, and then the other. You watch, and are unresisting. Your eyes show a flicker of interest, but still brim with pain. My heart aches for you.
I hear my voice but think it is in my head and unspoken. “I don’t know how to make this better.” I know in my dream state that I don’t know what the source of your pain is, somehow it doesn’t matter. You look at me, unspeaking, with your hands held in mine, close to my face. I wait.
You slowly reach for me…sliding your hands from my shoulders to my forearms then my hands.
“are you certain?” you whisper.
I nod, speechless with emotion. Yes I’m certain, certain that I should not be with you, and certain that I want you more than life.
Your hands pull me toward you and I go willingly…
You sitting on a sofa, I see you clearly; wearing jeans and a rumpled button down. Your elbows are on your knees and your head in your hands. The room is almost dark, but I see you clearly. A man who has lived; some great times and some that have left deep scars. No longer the boy I used to know, yet he is there too. I sense that this moment is a wounded moment in time for you.
I’m sitting in front of you, on a table or an ottoman, I don’t see it, just know it is there. I can see myself, as if I’m in two worlds at the same moment. One inside my skin and feeling my heart beat and one standing silent and observing, as if watching a movie. I long to touch you, to reach out and take your hands from your head and press your palms to my face. I want to ease the pain you are suffering but I’m frozen and waiting for you.
After many heartbeats, you raise your eyes to meet mine. Yours are washed in pain, the tears barely held back. You search my eyes, as if I have answers to unspoken questions. I do not.
As if the act of looking at me released me from my paralyzed state; I reach for you. I cannot help myself; the wanting of you, the urge to wipe away your pain is too much to even consider resisting. My hands find yours and I bring first one palm to my lips and kiss it, keeping my eyes on yours, unwavering, and then the other. You watch, and are unresisting. Your eyes show a flicker of interest, but still brim with pain. My heart aches for you.
I hear my voice but think it is in my head and unspoken. “I don’t know how to make this better.” I know in my dream state that I don’t know what the source of your pain is, somehow it doesn’t matter. You look at me, unspeaking, with your hands held in mine, close to my face. I wait.
You slowly reach for me…sliding your hands from my shoulders to my forearms then my hands.
“are you certain?” you whisper.
I nod, speechless with emotion. Yes I’m certain, certain that I should not be with you, and certain that I want you more than life.
Your hands pull me toward you and I go willingly…
Monday, June 1, 2009
I’m falling headlong into something I know I shouldn’t. I can’t seem to stop myself; there are no brakes. I want and I feel that I need, but I can’t justify.
I spend all my waking moments thinking of the what ifs and the should have done this kind of thoughts.
I should have leaned softly against you and touched you, there on the skin your rolled up sleeve exposed. I was fascinated by the very thought of touching you like that. What if I had simply laid my hand on your arm, there on your bare skin. Would you have felt the electricity that I felt? Would you have stayed close to me, or moved closer? Maybe you would have found the strength to move away….
I should have laid my hand on your skin, wrapped my fingers lightly about your wrist and looked into your eyes. I should have let you see me. I should have looked into your eyes and shared the secret thoughts and desires in my heart and head.
I thought about it a thousand or more times. I was afraid. Not afraid of the wanting I might see in your eyes, that would have been the delight to my soul! I was afraid you would turn away and leave me with my wanting of you.
I was afraid that prudence, would win. The attempt at being intelligent, doing the right thing and not moving on this path…I was afraid of that.
Wanting you consumes me. I ache and I want. I cannot sleep nor can I rid myself of the desire for you with another..it burns too brightly.
I spend all my waking moments thinking of the what ifs and the should have done this kind of thoughts.
I should have leaned softly against you and touched you, there on the skin your rolled up sleeve exposed. I was fascinated by the very thought of touching you like that. What if I had simply laid my hand on your arm, there on your bare skin. Would you have felt the electricity that I felt? Would you have stayed close to me, or moved closer? Maybe you would have found the strength to move away….
I should have laid my hand on your skin, wrapped my fingers lightly about your wrist and looked into your eyes. I should have let you see me. I should have looked into your eyes and shared the secret thoughts and desires in my heart and head.
I thought about it a thousand or more times. I was afraid. Not afraid of the wanting I might see in your eyes, that would have been the delight to my soul! I was afraid you would turn away and leave me with my wanting of you.
I was afraid that prudence, would win. The attempt at being intelligent, doing the right thing and not moving on this path…I was afraid of that.
Wanting you consumes me. I ache and I want. I cannot sleep nor can I rid myself of the desire for you with another..it burns too brightly.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Images keep dancing in my head, ideas and fantasies of how we meet again. A group of old friends, gathered to talk and laugh again after so long apart. I enter the room and spot them there, your back is toward me, but I’d know you anywhere. My mouth is suddenly dry and my hands are trembling. When I try and take a breath to steady my racing heart, it too is shaking with excitement.
I stand and look at all of them and you. Seeing that the years have changed a lot, but seeing those same years peel away as you laugh together and remember. Time stands still for me; there is no yesterday or the hundreds of yesterdays since I saw you. There is this moment and it is as if we have always been destined for this.
I walk slowly toward the table, some of them see me and meet my eyes and smile. You still do not turn. I smile in return, but all I can really think of is you. I’ve never once touched you I think, maybe a passing touch to your arm, but I’ve never touched you yet you are so familiar to me that I can picture tiny details of you by closing my eyes and remembering. I walk softly to behind your chair and never pause to consider my welcome from you. My hands touch your shoulders and you startle slightly. Before you can turn I slide my arms around your neck and press my face to yours, brushing your cheek lightly with my lips. You pull slightly away and turn toward me then. Recognition flashes in your eyes and a slow smile shapes your lips. I realize the others are staring and I care little for my part but think maybe you do, so I move away with a little “Well hey there!” Like I wasn’t expecting you to be there at all.
I drag a chair between you and our old friend sitting to your left and slide in next to you. Letting our shoulders touch intimately. I wonder if you will move away. You don’t. I greet and talk to all our old friends. Drinks are ordered and when mine arrives I exaggerate my lean away from the table as it is placed. I press myself against you, remembering how many times I’ve wondered what your body against mine would feel like. I don’t look at you, but do this and pretend I don’t notice how close our contact is. I talk and laugh with everyone and hear little of what they say and have no idea of what I say to them. I drink and wonder why no one comments on how badly I’m shaking. Being this close to you is making me lose control of everything I believe in. I wonder if I am having a similar or any kind of effect on you. I can no longer resist looking directly at you.
The next round of drinks arrive and I propose a toast to our old days together. We all chant our words and clink our glasses together, I deliberately leave you for last. I turn toward you, and raise my glass. Our eyes meet and I fall into their depths. Shock and something much nicer courses through me at what I see there in your eyes. I see my own emotions reflected there. How could we have let so much time separate us? I become aware that we are sitting, glasses touching and staring at one another and the others at the table have noticed. It makes them curious and a little uncomfortable. I laugh a little, having lost the ability to speak, and turn back to restart the table conversation. I now see speculation in their eyes. I don’t think I care.
The evening of reminiscing goes on until the early hours of morning. I finally say I’ve had a great time, but I need to sleep. Everyone stands and we hug one another, exchange emails and phone numbers, promise to do this again soon. I turn to you last and put my hand on your arm. I tell the others that I need to steal you for a minute and slide my hand into yours and give a little tug. We walk a few feet away from the others so they cannot hear us, but can see us. Again, I don’t think I care. I don’t let go of your hand, instead I face you and take your other hand in mine, stepping close to you. You look intrigued and unsure, and glance back at the table of our friends who are trying to look as if they are not watching us. You mention this to me, the fact that I have made everyone speculate about our relationship. I ask you if we have a relationship. You do not answer but instead squeeze my hands lightly. I rise to my toes and lightly kiss your lips and it takes my breath away. I step back and look at you again, considering what I’m thinking of doing.
I pull something from my pocket; my key; and put it in your hand and whisper the room number to you while looking in your eyes. I wait, giving you the chance to hand it back. You don’t.
I stand and look at all of them and you. Seeing that the years have changed a lot, but seeing those same years peel away as you laugh together and remember. Time stands still for me; there is no yesterday or the hundreds of yesterdays since I saw you. There is this moment and it is as if we have always been destined for this.
I walk slowly toward the table, some of them see me and meet my eyes and smile. You still do not turn. I smile in return, but all I can really think of is you. I’ve never once touched you I think, maybe a passing touch to your arm, but I’ve never touched you yet you are so familiar to me that I can picture tiny details of you by closing my eyes and remembering. I walk softly to behind your chair and never pause to consider my welcome from you. My hands touch your shoulders and you startle slightly. Before you can turn I slide my arms around your neck and press my face to yours, brushing your cheek lightly with my lips. You pull slightly away and turn toward me then. Recognition flashes in your eyes and a slow smile shapes your lips. I realize the others are staring and I care little for my part but think maybe you do, so I move away with a little “Well hey there!” Like I wasn’t expecting you to be there at all.
I drag a chair between you and our old friend sitting to your left and slide in next to you. Letting our shoulders touch intimately. I wonder if you will move away. You don’t. I greet and talk to all our old friends. Drinks are ordered and when mine arrives I exaggerate my lean away from the table as it is placed. I press myself against you, remembering how many times I’ve wondered what your body against mine would feel like. I don’t look at you, but do this and pretend I don’t notice how close our contact is. I talk and laugh with everyone and hear little of what they say and have no idea of what I say to them. I drink and wonder why no one comments on how badly I’m shaking. Being this close to you is making me lose control of everything I believe in. I wonder if I am having a similar or any kind of effect on you. I can no longer resist looking directly at you.
The next round of drinks arrive and I propose a toast to our old days together. We all chant our words and clink our glasses together, I deliberately leave you for last. I turn toward you, and raise my glass. Our eyes meet and I fall into their depths. Shock and something much nicer courses through me at what I see there in your eyes. I see my own emotions reflected there. How could we have let so much time separate us? I become aware that we are sitting, glasses touching and staring at one another and the others at the table have noticed. It makes them curious and a little uncomfortable. I laugh a little, having lost the ability to speak, and turn back to restart the table conversation. I now see speculation in their eyes. I don’t think I care.
The evening of reminiscing goes on until the early hours of morning. I finally say I’ve had a great time, but I need to sleep. Everyone stands and we hug one another, exchange emails and phone numbers, promise to do this again soon. I turn to you last and put my hand on your arm. I tell the others that I need to steal you for a minute and slide my hand into yours and give a little tug. We walk a few feet away from the others so they cannot hear us, but can see us. Again, I don’t think I care. I don’t let go of your hand, instead I face you and take your other hand in mine, stepping close to you. You look intrigued and unsure, and glance back at the table of our friends who are trying to look as if they are not watching us. You mention this to me, the fact that I have made everyone speculate about our relationship. I ask you if we have a relationship. You do not answer but instead squeeze my hands lightly. I rise to my toes and lightly kiss your lips and it takes my breath away. I step back and look at you again, considering what I’m thinking of doing.
I pull something from my pocket; my key; and put it in your hand and whisper the room number to you while looking in your eyes. I wait, giving you the chance to hand it back. You don’t.
Friday, May 8, 2009
The following is part of what I hope will eventually evolve and grow into something readable and publishable. It seems to be screaming to be written. I have left it as it 'poured out' today. I have read it a few times and it has much room for improvement which in my world comes later in the process. oh, and I KNOW it is drivel. Can't seem to help myself.
Enjoy!
The day had been trying and difficult, but I felt really great that we had accomplished something for the good. Luca and I had somehow managed to get far enough behind in our work that the other four finished and headed back to our base without us. We laughed and told them we would be finished and get there before them because they were tired and moving so slowly. It took longer than we could have imagined to finish that one stupid thing; everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. Murphy’s Law I think, or in hindsight; fate conspiring against us.
We started out as the sun was beginning to sink low in the sky sending shots of yellow and orange through the ominous clouds that were quickly gathering. I was disoriented, Luca was certain of the direction we should take. We had been driven over in a van that morning; the distance was not so far though that a brisk walk would have worked as well. Thus, we had opted to finish our project and walk back. As we trudged along, somewhat irritated with one another because of disagreeing earlier on the direction; I wondered again just how it was that I ended up in his company. Did I somehow maneuver myself into this or did life really hate me? Not that I minded working with him, but I kept having to refocus my thoughts to more appropriate ones throughout the day. He would speak to me and my eyes would become entranced with his lips, I’d see him speaking, see his lips moving and be completely unable to understand a word he said. It was like some dumb movie when someone is hearing in their head what they WANT the other person to be saying. It could have been a swarm of bees buzzing or a bomb exploding, and I would have not noticed a thing but the fact that he was looking right at me and talking to me. He must have decided early in the day that I was a lost cause because the conversations became shorter and more to the point of what we needed to do next. Luca did little to indicate if he liked or disliked me; maintaining a polite pleasant attitude the entire day. When we took breaks, and gathered with the rest of our team; he was almost the same with each of them yet somehow friendlier, or maybe it was my imagination thinking he was warmer in some way. He is polite but a trifle distant. Funny and telling jokes then laughing heartily with everyone then back into his state of slight reserve. I think everyone else would tell you what a great guy he is, little aware of how very little he shares of himself with anyone. I sense great sadness and to some extent turmoil, in him. Maybe I’m only being dramatic.
We walked on, tired but feeling satisfied that we had completed our task. Once I stumbled a bit and he reached out a hand to steady me, it was an automatic gesture, polite but caring. The clouds continued to close in and we were lost. Luca sighed the last time I said that I thought we were going the wrong direction and that we should have been at camp already. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and made a call. I could hear the voice on the other end, but not well enough to make out the words. I could of course hear Luca speaking in his calm measured voice; careful not to sound alarmed or stressed. He managed to make this sound like some grand adventure. All I wanted was a hot shower and dinner then my cot which last night was far less than inviting, but tonight, oh tonight it would be like the softest most heavenly mattress!
I heard thunder, and it wasn’t too far in the distance. I shivered in spite of the heat the sun had left lingering around us. I love thunder storms, but only from safe and snug inside and usually only when tucked comfortably in my own bed. By the looks of the clouds gathering, this promised to be quite the storm. Someone needs to come and get us soon I thought to myself. I didn’t want to say it out loud, but I thought it really hard. Luca was wrapping up his conversation; he was saying a lot of things that sounded contrived to be reassuring. I’m not reassured, we are lost in the middle of nowhere and a storm is moving in. I’m tired and I want to fall down somewhere at least halfway soft.
Again while I watch Luca, the strange spell he casts over me happens. I watch him and get lost in thoughts of him. I wonder crazy stupid things like what it would be like to touch him. Stupid, because of course I’ve touched him, I know the feel of his skin on his arms, his hands, but what I find myself thinking is that I want to touch him in a more intimate way than resting my hand lightly on his arm when he speaks, or the occasional brush of fingers against fingers as he hands me some tool or anther as we work. I’m not thinking straight, I know it. I’m not even considering something as personal as it sounds like; oh who am I kidding? No, I may not be going all the way to the bedroom in my thoughts, but surely the craving I feel for simply touching this fascinating man would lead me, would lead us right there. That is something I refuse to entertain. I would rather think like the virginal ten year old, just wondering what it would feel like to have my hands run lightly across his shoulders, his chest… I cannot go on this way so I shake myself mentally and return to our current problem. It is amazing how my schoolgirl obsession with this man can block out even the most immediate need for rescue or shelter!
As Luca wraps up his phone conversation, he looks at me as he speaks. My knees weaken and that familiar buzzing I hear when he looks directly at me begins. I make myself meet his eyes, trying to read what it is he is saying to me all the while he is saying something else to the person on the phone. ‘Alright then” he says into the cell, “we will contact you again in about ten minutes if we don’t see you first! Thanks!” He pushes the off button and looks at me for a long second. “We’re lost.” He stated simply. I think “well duh, I knew that!” but say, “I know. Now what?” Luca looked around slowly, turning each direction and scrutinizing the landscape. I don’t think he could see anything anymore than I could because at that time, we were standing in almost complete darkness. “I see something, it may be nothing, but maybe it is the base.” I hear relief in his voice and feel him grope blindly for my hand. Just as our fingers entwined, the heavens opened and buckets of rain poured down. I stood frozen to the spot, I’m sure my brain was thinking what we should do, but I really don’t recall. I felt him tug on my hand none too gently; signaling that I should go with him toward the safety he somehow saw when I did not.
Luca is a tall man, much taller than most. My face lands squarely in the middle of his chest when we face one another. I could tell you which number button is level with my eyes, but that tells too much of how I study him too often and too deeply. His walk, due to his superior height is a rather fast trot for me and we end up dashing through the pouring rain, hands holding fast so as not to lose one another in the darkness. I let him lead, and I blindly follow.
Luca stopped short with a rueful “oh.” And I looked up. Ahead of us in the darkness was not our camp at all; but a cabin of a sort, almost a barn from what I could see in the dark and rain. We moved forward toward its promise of shelter from the storm.
We had to feel for the door! I pounded on it, certain any second that someone from inside would open the door, light and warmth would pour out and we would be safely sheltered in some kind person’s abode. I know, I read entirely too much. No answer came to my fists drumming at the door. Luca found the handle, lifted and well; shoved the door open. To my amazement, the door gave way and we both sort of fell inside. It was pitch dark and I was frozen to the spot. Luca rummaged in his pocket for his cell phone, flipped it open and it gave an amazing amount of light. As he moved it carefully around the room we could see that it was a well equipped cabin, perhaps belonging to a hunter or two, used seasonally and left in tidy preparedness for the next visit. I saw what appeared to be an oil lamp on the table just by the door and joy of all joys; a box of matches! “Here, look!” I said and reached for the matches as he swung the light of the cell back toward my voice. He held the light for me as I lifted the glass globe and lit the oil wick. Light sputtered then poured like a welcome over the cozy little room.
As our eyes quickly adjusted to the new light, we heard the mournful beeping sound of Luca’s cell phone warning of the low battery. “We need to let them know we are safe for the time being before the phone dies.” He says as he holds down the key to call. I am beginning to be aware of the sorry state we are in, in spite of the roof over our heads and the light in the room. Sodden clothing, no dinner and lost. I hear Luca’s voice and for once I’m not entranced. I heard him snap the phone closed and within a second the last final beep and it was gone. The storm raged on outside and while I know that I should have been happy to be out of it, I found myself becoming irritated by my clinging wet and cold jeans. Thunder raged time after time, shaking the building. The rain was like what it must be like to stand in a waterfall. It roared over us, no gentle spring shower, but more like an angry ocean trying to swallow us whole.
I realized that I was starting to shake and shiver uncontrollably. It was probably the combination of the cold and the wet; but I think the reality of our situation was sinking in. Lost, in the early evening hours with what felt like forever between the moment and the dawn of a new day. Our cell phone was dead and the bright note was that we were not caught outside in the storm, and our fellow team members had been told we were safe for the time being. I was suddenly frightened, but didn’t care to show Luca that side of me. We looked around the room, I realized that it really was well stocked and waiting for the owner to return. A small kitchen area showed some cans of food; beans, tuna, and a box of crackers. So there is dinner. Every move I made my jeans squished and dripped. Water from my sodden hair rolled down my face to be wiped at constantly. Luca, of course was in no better condition, but was concentrating on the other needs of the moment; food and warmth. He found a teapot and began looking for a source of fresh water. He found it in the form of bottles stashed in a cabinet. He lit the little old fashioned stove like he did this sort of thing daily, poured water into the teapot and set it to heat. He turned to me and as he scrutinized me in the dim light; he frowned. “You are soaked’ he announced like it was a new realization. “You need to get out of those clothes.” Immediately I thought, “I don’t THINK so Mister. Not with you around anyway.” We stood in a one room cabin, no walls, no curtains, just a single room. Obviously not build for modesty or privacy of any kind. I’m sure my face was like an open book. I was too tired to even make an attempt at covering my thoughts and feelings. He looked a little taken aback for just a brief moment. I assumed at that point he knew that I was completely crazy for him, and shocked when he read in my face my reluctance to remove my wet clothing in the confines of this cabin. I guess he thought I’d be more than willing. I stood mute, rooted to the wooden floor as if I had become part of it. The realization that we both needed to get dry, and soon was dawning. My brain was frantically trying to sort this situation out.” How….are …we going to do this? What will people think? Oh who cares what people think? Well, I do!” Luca began looking around the room, opening this and that and suddenly made a triumphant ‘aha!’ as he opened a trunk and produced multiple blankets!
“Get out of those wet clothes.” It wasn’t a request and brooked no argument. Shivering and almost numb at this point I started pulling at my jacket first. With some effort it came off and landed in a soaking heap on the floor between us. I looked up and we locked eyes; the raging storm outside dimmed to a background buzzing. I could hear my heart pounding. His expression showed nothing; he schooled his features into the neutral but pleasant expression he typically wore. His eyes, mostly blue and golden flecked, said everything I needed or rather didn’t need to know. I looked downward, breaking the spell, knowing I needed to ignore that moment like it had never happened, but he was standing so very close to me. I could smell the rain clinging to him, I could hear him breathing. My fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans, and then faltered, I looked up to find him concentrating on my failed attempt to remove my rain soaked clothes. He glanced at me one more time then impatiently brushed my hands aside, and forced the unyielding denim to stretch just enough to unfasten. I swear my heart was pounding so hard that it was all I could hear. My mouth was dry and I really don’t think I was breathing. I cannot have this man and most certainly not like this. I am not free, and in reality, my heart is not free. I love another. I am married to another.
I stepped back, maybe too forcefully but I needed to get some distance between us. I struggled for some time but eventually won the battle with the clinging jeans and stepped out of them, leaving myself wearing nothing but a thin cotton tank that covered me but it was as damp as everything else and essentially covered nothing. I didn’t even dare to steal a look at Luca. I felt as if I were standing at the edge of an abyss; one false move and all would be lost. Luca stepped closer to me, leaving me nowhere to run, as the wall of the cabin was now at my back. In his hands he held a blanket, but his arms were dropped to his sides, essentially in a relaxed pose even while holding the blanket draped in front of him. Against everything screaming at me in my head; I looked up at him; keenly, painfully aware that I was in a precarious time and place. I couldn’t help myself; I needed to look at him. I wanted to know if he wanted me too or if I were in this thing all by myself. I should never have looked.
Luca, normally completely in control, relaxed and calm; was a picture of a man struggling with demons. Emotion washed his face, dilating his pupils and flushing his cheeks. He knows what I’m thinking. The thought ran through my brain; oddly lucid in the midst of the chaos of emotions. I could not tear my eyes away from his face. After what seemed like an eternity and in reality was probably seconds, I saw him reeling in his thoughts. I saw him steady his breath and his jaw tightened with the effort to control. He slowly and deliberately raised the blanket so it fell like a curtain between us. In a tight and choked voice he said “you should take that off.” That was it? I should take that off?! What the stupid look on my face? Oh, the wet shirt! I removed the offending tank automatically, dropping it on the floor. I stood there, not knowing what to do or say or even if I was able. He stood holding the blanket like it was a wall between us. Forever passed by in that moment; and finally I heard him tell me to take the blanket. “Cover yourself.” That was it. Cover myself. Well; what did I want him to say?
I wrapped the blanket around me, like you would a towel after a shower. He had moved as far from me as possible while I took control of the blanket. I realized he was still wearing wet clothes. “You should do the same; take off your clothes.” Oh GOD! Did I just say that? Well, under the circumstances it was appropriate but somehow everything I now said or did seemed loaded with innuendo or desire. And well; I suppose if I’m honest; and why not be honest in the telling of this story, I meant it that way. But I didn’t want to take the lead. I never wanted to make the move that sent us crashing down that path. I reminded myself of my commitment, my husband, my Matthew. It didn’t help. I can’t explain it, but it was like the world did not exist outside of the time and space inside this lost place.
Luca avoided looking at me. The teapot was whistling and he went carefully about the business of brewing two cups of strong hot tea. Oh, the tea! It was almost as appealing as Luca. I studied him, as I had a thousand times, but through wet clothes this time it was much more fascinating. I could see the muscles of his back and shoulders as he did the simple task of tea making. As always when I looked at him I became lost to everything but that moment.
He held out the steaming mug without saying a word, but looked me directly in the face. He was completely in control again. We were two friends, companions caught in an adventure with no tragedy, just a great story to tell tomorrow and to future grand kids. I tried to wipe my expression clean of any remnants of desire for him. I have no idea if it worked or not; he gave no indication that he saw anything but a casual friend standing before him. “Luca. You really need to get out of those wet things; you are beginning to shiver.” He studied me, like a man searching for a deeper meaning, then shrugged slightly and sat his cup down, and began to unbutton his shirt. I began my mantra again in my head; I cannot have this man. He doesn’t even really like me. I belong to another who loves me, whom I love. I cannot have ….this….man. His shirt fell to the floor, adding itself to the scattered items I had left lying about. My breath caught in my throat and I had to force myself to stand where I was and remember to sip my tea like it was the most important thing in my life at the moment. I don’t ever recall wanting just to touch someone so much in my entire life. He knew it; I could tell that he knew it, but he ignored me. I wondered what mantra he was hearing in his head. Ignore the married woman??? I suppressed the urge to laugh hysterically. Is this some kind of horrible test? To gauge my character? Who is testing me? God? Surely not. Then what is this? I cannot have this man. Oh God save me from this temptation.
He moved to unsnap his jeans. A blanket, like he held for me! That is what I should do. I moved to gather it from the bed and heard him speak softly. “Sawyer” the sound of my name on his lips froze me. “Sawyer, get into the bed” He wants me to get in the bed? My thoughts ran crazily and my feet stayed disobediently in their place, as if I could not make the decision to go or to do. “Sawyer” this time there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Sawyer, get in the bed and turn away.” Ahh; privacy, he wants privacy, not me in the bed, but, his own space. I can do that. But somehow; my feet feel like lead. ‘Sawyer, I’m freezing to death here. Move!” I moved. I hopped into the bed pulling my blanket around me like it was a safety net, and preserving my life was the utmost concern.
I heard the sounds of the belt as it was unbuckled. I heard it land hard on the floor. Oh, I wanted to turn and watch him! I was beginning to see this less a test and more, well; a gift. Funny how we start to justify the things we want in life. The sounds of his jeans peeling away from his body consumed my imagination. I could feel him looking at me, I would not turn. He had asked me, no; he told me to turn away. The blanket! Oh the blanket is still on the bed, it may even be caught up with me. I hear him move across toward the bed and feel him lifting the blanket to wrap himself in its warmth. I want to turn to him. I want to just touch him, if I touch him, is there any stopping? Can it be just that? All my tiredness and hunger have run from me. My consuming need in this place, far from everyone and everything of the world is this man, Luca.
“luca” my voice comes out far more husky than I intended. I try again. “Luca, might I, could…would it be okay if I turn toward you now?” He kind of chuckled and told me of course. He had settled himself in a small wooden chair, the only kind of seating in the room other than the bed. He can’t sit there all night I thought. But where else is there? I’m in the bed and well, there is room for him… “Luca, come lie down, there is room here for you.” No response except to look at me closely. I sighed and tried again. “Luca, it is okay. We are tired and cold and it is okay.” “You know I can’t.” was all he said. I want him close to me, even while I know I shouldn’t; I do. I want to spend this night, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere listening to his heart beat and to the sound of his breathing. I want to have this; this thing that seems to have been given to me. “You can, and you will. No one even needs to know, and people will think what they will think anyway, so you may as well be comfortable.” I heard a bit of irritation in that statement and was surprised by it myself. I guess my feelings about the church gossips were showing.
He sat, like a statue for about ten minutes. I watched him. He watched me and as he did; I could see him weighing and considering every possible reason to and every possible reason not to.
“You are married.” The statement came out of long minutes of silence and startled me. I was so caught up in looking at him and living in that moment, that he took me by surprise. “Yes, yes I am.” I looked into his eyes. What is that I see there? Is there affection toward me or just a lust born of this situation? Would he have ever even considered me outside of today’s events? What does it matter? I cannot have this man. “Luca, I’m not asking you to do anything but to lie down and be comfortable. We will both be asleep in five minutes. Then the morning will come and we will find our way back to the others.”
He stood. I felt so electrified and knew it was so wrong and I didn’t really care. “Luca; its okay.” I could see the longing written on him. The day and the trials of it seemed to have robbed him of his ability to look neutral. I propped myself on an elbow and scooted backward toward the wall, hoping that I was leaving an inviting space for him on the bed. He was unmoving. Geez! Am I going to have to swear not to touch him? What is going on in his head? Then I realized or thought I did that he was wondering what it really was that I was inviting him to do. His own emotions were clouding his reason. The storm raged harder outside and the wind began driving the rain like bullets on the roof of our little haven. “Luca” he twitched a bit at the sound. “Come here.” He moved like a person with no will of his own. Luca sat on the edge of the bed and turned to look at me. I fell headlong into those lovely expressive eyes. My world was spinning out of control. “lie down.” It was a whisper of a sound, I wasn’t even certain that I said it. He eased his tall frame into the small space I had left beside me. Staring up at the ceiling, he stated again that I was married. What is it he is looking for? “I am married, we have established that. Luca; what is it you are asking?” I decided to be blunt. He turned his body toward me and I became painfully aware of the thin blankets being the only thing between us.
“I’m asking nothing. I’m telling you.” I had to laugh a little at the absurdity of that; like I needed to be reminded; like I was out to seduce him. Me the married one, preying on the needy single guy. He laughed a little too, but it was strained and a bit forced. We both knew what we were feeling; it hovered there like a living thing, unspoken and ignored, but still there. I decided I had nothing to lose and being isolated in the storm like we were, made it seem easier, natural even. “I… “The words were in my heart, but would not come out of my mouth. I thought about how many times I would watch him speak and find myself wanting to touch his lips with mine. “Luca, I would very much like to kiss you.” There I said it. Lightening didn’t strike me down. I did say it didn’t I? I didn’t just think it in my head or did I? His gold flecked eyes studied me in the dim light, moving from looking into my eyes to lingering on my lips. The lips that had just spouted traitorous words mind you. “I think I would very much like to kiss you, and more; but… there was a long pause and I held my breath. ” I’m not going to.” And with that; he gazed at me as if memorizing my face one last time and rolled over and putting as much distance as possible between us.
So much for being asleep in five minutes. The storm raging outside is nothing compared to the one in me. When did I become this person? This woman? What about Matthew? How did my world get to the place that the person protecting my marriage is not IN my marriage? What am I thinking? I’m thinking that this is some kind of gift rather than a test or a curse and that I should take it. What harm would there be in one stolen night in the middle of nowhere, with no one to know? We would know of course, but really haven’t we already traveled a path to some kind of intimacy that the world would consider wrong? We have spoken words and there is no taking them back. He is lying there like a stone, pretending to be asleep and I know he is not. How strange it is to be in a bed with someone other than Matthew. Someone so different than Matthew.
I must have dozed because I came awake with a start. The light had burned out and the storm was raging on. Will it never end? Of course, when the storm clears we will no longer be locked into our private space and time here. There is a world full of friends and family out there and we have to step out and back into that world soon. I want to live in two worlds; one in which I can both have and love this man who is beside me. There I’ve said it, or thought it. I do have a love for him and have been carrying it for months, secretly tucked away where no one could see it. I don’t want my other life to be gone either; I want them both. I never understood how people could feel this way.
I can only have both tonight; then the light of the day will intrude on this one and it will be gone.
I move close to Luca. I sense that he is awake and very aware. “luca.” I whisper his name. “Luca, I have nothing to offer you but now. This very moment.” I breathe softly against his back and take a deep shaking breath. This is a determining moment for me; it will forever define for me who I am. I lay my hand on his back and trace small unseen patterns. Luca, my lovely beautiful Luca; wanting to do the honorable thing, ignores me.
Enjoy!
The day had been trying and difficult, but I felt really great that we had accomplished something for the good. Luca and I had somehow managed to get far enough behind in our work that the other four finished and headed back to our base without us. We laughed and told them we would be finished and get there before them because they were tired and moving so slowly. It took longer than we could have imagined to finish that one stupid thing; everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. Murphy’s Law I think, or in hindsight; fate conspiring against us.
We started out as the sun was beginning to sink low in the sky sending shots of yellow and orange through the ominous clouds that were quickly gathering. I was disoriented, Luca was certain of the direction we should take. We had been driven over in a van that morning; the distance was not so far though that a brisk walk would have worked as well. Thus, we had opted to finish our project and walk back. As we trudged along, somewhat irritated with one another because of disagreeing earlier on the direction; I wondered again just how it was that I ended up in his company. Did I somehow maneuver myself into this or did life really hate me? Not that I minded working with him, but I kept having to refocus my thoughts to more appropriate ones throughout the day. He would speak to me and my eyes would become entranced with his lips, I’d see him speaking, see his lips moving and be completely unable to understand a word he said. It was like some dumb movie when someone is hearing in their head what they WANT the other person to be saying. It could have been a swarm of bees buzzing or a bomb exploding, and I would have not noticed a thing but the fact that he was looking right at me and talking to me. He must have decided early in the day that I was a lost cause because the conversations became shorter and more to the point of what we needed to do next. Luca did little to indicate if he liked or disliked me; maintaining a polite pleasant attitude the entire day. When we took breaks, and gathered with the rest of our team; he was almost the same with each of them yet somehow friendlier, or maybe it was my imagination thinking he was warmer in some way. He is polite but a trifle distant. Funny and telling jokes then laughing heartily with everyone then back into his state of slight reserve. I think everyone else would tell you what a great guy he is, little aware of how very little he shares of himself with anyone. I sense great sadness and to some extent turmoil, in him. Maybe I’m only being dramatic.
We walked on, tired but feeling satisfied that we had completed our task. Once I stumbled a bit and he reached out a hand to steady me, it was an automatic gesture, polite but caring. The clouds continued to close in and we were lost. Luca sighed the last time I said that I thought we were going the wrong direction and that we should have been at camp already. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and made a call. I could hear the voice on the other end, but not well enough to make out the words. I could of course hear Luca speaking in his calm measured voice; careful not to sound alarmed or stressed. He managed to make this sound like some grand adventure. All I wanted was a hot shower and dinner then my cot which last night was far less than inviting, but tonight, oh tonight it would be like the softest most heavenly mattress!
I heard thunder, and it wasn’t too far in the distance. I shivered in spite of the heat the sun had left lingering around us. I love thunder storms, but only from safe and snug inside and usually only when tucked comfortably in my own bed. By the looks of the clouds gathering, this promised to be quite the storm. Someone needs to come and get us soon I thought to myself. I didn’t want to say it out loud, but I thought it really hard. Luca was wrapping up his conversation; he was saying a lot of things that sounded contrived to be reassuring. I’m not reassured, we are lost in the middle of nowhere and a storm is moving in. I’m tired and I want to fall down somewhere at least halfway soft.
Again while I watch Luca, the strange spell he casts over me happens. I watch him and get lost in thoughts of him. I wonder crazy stupid things like what it would be like to touch him. Stupid, because of course I’ve touched him, I know the feel of his skin on his arms, his hands, but what I find myself thinking is that I want to touch him in a more intimate way than resting my hand lightly on his arm when he speaks, or the occasional brush of fingers against fingers as he hands me some tool or anther as we work. I’m not thinking straight, I know it. I’m not even considering something as personal as it sounds like; oh who am I kidding? No, I may not be going all the way to the bedroom in my thoughts, but surely the craving I feel for simply touching this fascinating man would lead me, would lead us right there. That is something I refuse to entertain. I would rather think like the virginal ten year old, just wondering what it would feel like to have my hands run lightly across his shoulders, his chest… I cannot go on this way so I shake myself mentally and return to our current problem. It is amazing how my schoolgirl obsession with this man can block out even the most immediate need for rescue or shelter!
As Luca wraps up his phone conversation, he looks at me as he speaks. My knees weaken and that familiar buzzing I hear when he looks directly at me begins. I make myself meet his eyes, trying to read what it is he is saying to me all the while he is saying something else to the person on the phone. ‘Alright then” he says into the cell, “we will contact you again in about ten minutes if we don’t see you first! Thanks!” He pushes the off button and looks at me for a long second. “We’re lost.” He stated simply. I think “well duh, I knew that!” but say, “I know. Now what?” Luca looked around slowly, turning each direction and scrutinizing the landscape. I don’t think he could see anything anymore than I could because at that time, we were standing in almost complete darkness. “I see something, it may be nothing, but maybe it is the base.” I hear relief in his voice and feel him grope blindly for my hand. Just as our fingers entwined, the heavens opened and buckets of rain poured down. I stood frozen to the spot, I’m sure my brain was thinking what we should do, but I really don’t recall. I felt him tug on my hand none too gently; signaling that I should go with him toward the safety he somehow saw when I did not.
Luca is a tall man, much taller than most. My face lands squarely in the middle of his chest when we face one another. I could tell you which number button is level with my eyes, but that tells too much of how I study him too often and too deeply. His walk, due to his superior height is a rather fast trot for me and we end up dashing through the pouring rain, hands holding fast so as not to lose one another in the darkness. I let him lead, and I blindly follow.
Luca stopped short with a rueful “oh.” And I looked up. Ahead of us in the darkness was not our camp at all; but a cabin of a sort, almost a barn from what I could see in the dark and rain. We moved forward toward its promise of shelter from the storm.
We had to feel for the door! I pounded on it, certain any second that someone from inside would open the door, light and warmth would pour out and we would be safely sheltered in some kind person’s abode. I know, I read entirely too much. No answer came to my fists drumming at the door. Luca found the handle, lifted and well; shoved the door open. To my amazement, the door gave way and we both sort of fell inside. It was pitch dark and I was frozen to the spot. Luca rummaged in his pocket for his cell phone, flipped it open and it gave an amazing amount of light. As he moved it carefully around the room we could see that it was a well equipped cabin, perhaps belonging to a hunter or two, used seasonally and left in tidy preparedness for the next visit. I saw what appeared to be an oil lamp on the table just by the door and joy of all joys; a box of matches! “Here, look!” I said and reached for the matches as he swung the light of the cell back toward my voice. He held the light for me as I lifted the glass globe and lit the oil wick. Light sputtered then poured like a welcome over the cozy little room.
As our eyes quickly adjusted to the new light, we heard the mournful beeping sound of Luca’s cell phone warning of the low battery. “We need to let them know we are safe for the time being before the phone dies.” He says as he holds down the key to call. I am beginning to be aware of the sorry state we are in, in spite of the roof over our heads and the light in the room. Sodden clothing, no dinner and lost. I hear Luca’s voice and for once I’m not entranced. I heard him snap the phone closed and within a second the last final beep and it was gone. The storm raged on outside and while I know that I should have been happy to be out of it, I found myself becoming irritated by my clinging wet and cold jeans. Thunder raged time after time, shaking the building. The rain was like what it must be like to stand in a waterfall. It roared over us, no gentle spring shower, but more like an angry ocean trying to swallow us whole.
I realized that I was starting to shake and shiver uncontrollably. It was probably the combination of the cold and the wet; but I think the reality of our situation was sinking in. Lost, in the early evening hours with what felt like forever between the moment and the dawn of a new day. Our cell phone was dead and the bright note was that we were not caught outside in the storm, and our fellow team members had been told we were safe for the time being. I was suddenly frightened, but didn’t care to show Luca that side of me. We looked around the room, I realized that it really was well stocked and waiting for the owner to return. A small kitchen area showed some cans of food; beans, tuna, and a box of crackers. So there is dinner. Every move I made my jeans squished and dripped. Water from my sodden hair rolled down my face to be wiped at constantly. Luca, of course was in no better condition, but was concentrating on the other needs of the moment; food and warmth. He found a teapot and began looking for a source of fresh water. He found it in the form of bottles stashed in a cabinet. He lit the little old fashioned stove like he did this sort of thing daily, poured water into the teapot and set it to heat. He turned to me and as he scrutinized me in the dim light; he frowned. “You are soaked’ he announced like it was a new realization. “You need to get out of those clothes.” Immediately I thought, “I don’t THINK so Mister. Not with you around anyway.” We stood in a one room cabin, no walls, no curtains, just a single room. Obviously not build for modesty or privacy of any kind. I’m sure my face was like an open book. I was too tired to even make an attempt at covering my thoughts and feelings. He looked a little taken aback for just a brief moment. I assumed at that point he knew that I was completely crazy for him, and shocked when he read in my face my reluctance to remove my wet clothing in the confines of this cabin. I guess he thought I’d be more than willing. I stood mute, rooted to the wooden floor as if I had become part of it. The realization that we both needed to get dry, and soon was dawning. My brain was frantically trying to sort this situation out.” How….are …we going to do this? What will people think? Oh who cares what people think? Well, I do!” Luca began looking around the room, opening this and that and suddenly made a triumphant ‘aha!’ as he opened a trunk and produced multiple blankets!
“Get out of those wet clothes.” It wasn’t a request and brooked no argument. Shivering and almost numb at this point I started pulling at my jacket first. With some effort it came off and landed in a soaking heap on the floor between us. I looked up and we locked eyes; the raging storm outside dimmed to a background buzzing. I could hear my heart pounding. His expression showed nothing; he schooled his features into the neutral but pleasant expression he typically wore. His eyes, mostly blue and golden flecked, said everything I needed or rather didn’t need to know. I looked downward, breaking the spell, knowing I needed to ignore that moment like it had never happened, but he was standing so very close to me. I could smell the rain clinging to him, I could hear him breathing. My fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans, and then faltered, I looked up to find him concentrating on my failed attempt to remove my rain soaked clothes. He glanced at me one more time then impatiently brushed my hands aside, and forced the unyielding denim to stretch just enough to unfasten. I swear my heart was pounding so hard that it was all I could hear. My mouth was dry and I really don’t think I was breathing. I cannot have this man and most certainly not like this. I am not free, and in reality, my heart is not free. I love another. I am married to another.
I stepped back, maybe too forcefully but I needed to get some distance between us. I struggled for some time but eventually won the battle with the clinging jeans and stepped out of them, leaving myself wearing nothing but a thin cotton tank that covered me but it was as damp as everything else and essentially covered nothing. I didn’t even dare to steal a look at Luca. I felt as if I were standing at the edge of an abyss; one false move and all would be lost. Luca stepped closer to me, leaving me nowhere to run, as the wall of the cabin was now at my back. In his hands he held a blanket, but his arms were dropped to his sides, essentially in a relaxed pose even while holding the blanket draped in front of him. Against everything screaming at me in my head; I looked up at him; keenly, painfully aware that I was in a precarious time and place. I couldn’t help myself; I needed to look at him. I wanted to know if he wanted me too or if I were in this thing all by myself. I should never have looked.
Luca, normally completely in control, relaxed and calm; was a picture of a man struggling with demons. Emotion washed his face, dilating his pupils and flushing his cheeks. He knows what I’m thinking. The thought ran through my brain; oddly lucid in the midst of the chaos of emotions. I could not tear my eyes away from his face. After what seemed like an eternity and in reality was probably seconds, I saw him reeling in his thoughts. I saw him steady his breath and his jaw tightened with the effort to control. He slowly and deliberately raised the blanket so it fell like a curtain between us. In a tight and choked voice he said “you should take that off.” That was it? I should take that off?! What the stupid look on my face? Oh, the wet shirt! I removed the offending tank automatically, dropping it on the floor. I stood there, not knowing what to do or say or even if I was able. He stood holding the blanket like it was a wall between us. Forever passed by in that moment; and finally I heard him tell me to take the blanket. “Cover yourself.” That was it. Cover myself. Well; what did I want him to say?
I wrapped the blanket around me, like you would a towel after a shower. He had moved as far from me as possible while I took control of the blanket. I realized he was still wearing wet clothes. “You should do the same; take off your clothes.” Oh GOD! Did I just say that? Well, under the circumstances it was appropriate but somehow everything I now said or did seemed loaded with innuendo or desire. And well; I suppose if I’m honest; and why not be honest in the telling of this story, I meant it that way. But I didn’t want to take the lead. I never wanted to make the move that sent us crashing down that path. I reminded myself of my commitment, my husband, my Matthew. It didn’t help. I can’t explain it, but it was like the world did not exist outside of the time and space inside this lost place.
Luca avoided looking at me. The teapot was whistling and he went carefully about the business of brewing two cups of strong hot tea. Oh, the tea! It was almost as appealing as Luca. I studied him, as I had a thousand times, but through wet clothes this time it was much more fascinating. I could see the muscles of his back and shoulders as he did the simple task of tea making. As always when I looked at him I became lost to everything but that moment.
He held out the steaming mug without saying a word, but looked me directly in the face. He was completely in control again. We were two friends, companions caught in an adventure with no tragedy, just a great story to tell tomorrow and to future grand kids. I tried to wipe my expression clean of any remnants of desire for him. I have no idea if it worked or not; he gave no indication that he saw anything but a casual friend standing before him. “Luca. You really need to get out of those wet things; you are beginning to shiver.” He studied me, like a man searching for a deeper meaning, then shrugged slightly and sat his cup down, and began to unbutton his shirt. I began my mantra again in my head; I cannot have this man. He doesn’t even really like me. I belong to another who loves me, whom I love. I cannot have ….this….man. His shirt fell to the floor, adding itself to the scattered items I had left lying about. My breath caught in my throat and I had to force myself to stand where I was and remember to sip my tea like it was the most important thing in my life at the moment. I don’t ever recall wanting just to touch someone so much in my entire life. He knew it; I could tell that he knew it, but he ignored me. I wondered what mantra he was hearing in his head. Ignore the married woman??? I suppressed the urge to laugh hysterically. Is this some kind of horrible test? To gauge my character? Who is testing me? God? Surely not. Then what is this? I cannot have this man. Oh God save me from this temptation.
He moved to unsnap his jeans. A blanket, like he held for me! That is what I should do. I moved to gather it from the bed and heard him speak softly. “Sawyer” the sound of my name on his lips froze me. “Sawyer, get into the bed” He wants me to get in the bed? My thoughts ran crazily and my feet stayed disobediently in their place, as if I could not make the decision to go or to do. “Sawyer” this time there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Sawyer, get in the bed and turn away.” Ahh; privacy, he wants privacy, not me in the bed, but, his own space. I can do that. But somehow; my feet feel like lead. ‘Sawyer, I’m freezing to death here. Move!” I moved. I hopped into the bed pulling my blanket around me like it was a safety net, and preserving my life was the utmost concern.
I heard the sounds of the belt as it was unbuckled. I heard it land hard on the floor. Oh, I wanted to turn and watch him! I was beginning to see this less a test and more, well; a gift. Funny how we start to justify the things we want in life. The sounds of his jeans peeling away from his body consumed my imagination. I could feel him looking at me, I would not turn. He had asked me, no; he told me to turn away. The blanket! Oh the blanket is still on the bed, it may even be caught up with me. I hear him move across toward the bed and feel him lifting the blanket to wrap himself in its warmth. I want to turn to him. I want to just touch him, if I touch him, is there any stopping? Can it be just that? All my tiredness and hunger have run from me. My consuming need in this place, far from everyone and everything of the world is this man, Luca.
“luca” my voice comes out far more husky than I intended. I try again. “Luca, might I, could…would it be okay if I turn toward you now?” He kind of chuckled and told me of course. He had settled himself in a small wooden chair, the only kind of seating in the room other than the bed. He can’t sit there all night I thought. But where else is there? I’m in the bed and well, there is room for him… “Luca, come lie down, there is room here for you.” No response except to look at me closely. I sighed and tried again. “Luca, it is okay. We are tired and cold and it is okay.” “You know I can’t.” was all he said. I want him close to me, even while I know I shouldn’t; I do. I want to spend this night, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere listening to his heart beat and to the sound of his breathing. I want to have this; this thing that seems to have been given to me. “You can, and you will. No one even needs to know, and people will think what they will think anyway, so you may as well be comfortable.” I heard a bit of irritation in that statement and was surprised by it myself. I guess my feelings about the church gossips were showing.
He sat, like a statue for about ten minutes. I watched him. He watched me and as he did; I could see him weighing and considering every possible reason to and every possible reason not to.
“You are married.” The statement came out of long minutes of silence and startled me. I was so caught up in looking at him and living in that moment, that he took me by surprise. “Yes, yes I am.” I looked into his eyes. What is that I see there? Is there affection toward me or just a lust born of this situation? Would he have ever even considered me outside of today’s events? What does it matter? I cannot have this man. “Luca, I’m not asking you to do anything but to lie down and be comfortable. We will both be asleep in five minutes. Then the morning will come and we will find our way back to the others.”
He stood. I felt so electrified and knew it was so wrong and I didn’t really care. “Luca; its okay.” I could see the longing written on him. The day and the trials of it seemed to have robbed him of his ability to look neutral. I propped myself on an elbow and scooted backward toward the wall, hoping that I was leaving an inviting space for him on the bed. He was unmoving. Geez! Am I going to have to swear not to touch him? What is going on in his head? Then I realized or thought I did that he was wondering what it really was that I was inviting him to do. His own emotions were clouding his reason. The storm raged harder outside and the wind began driving the rain like bullets on the roof of our little haven. “Luca” he twitched a bit at the sound. “Come here.” He moved like a person with no will of his own. Luca sat on the edge of the bed and turned to look at me. I fell headlong into those lovely expressive eyes. My world was spinning out of control. “lie down.” It was a whisper of a sound, I wasn’t even certain that I said it. He eased his tall frame into the small space I had left beside me. Staring up at the ceiling, he stated again that I was married. What is it he is looking for? “I am married, we have established that. Luca; what is it you are asking?” I decided to be blunt. He turned his body toward me and I became painfully aware of the thin blankets being the only thing between us.
“I’m asking nothing. I’m telling you.” I had to laugh a little at the absurdity of that; like I needed to be reminded; like I was out to seduce him. Me the married one, preying on the needy single guy. He laughed a little too, but it was strained and a bit forced. We both knew what we were feeling; it hovered there like a living thing, unspoken and ignored, but still there. I decided I had nothing to lose and being isolated in the storm like we were, made it seem easier, natural even. “I… “The words were in my heart, but would not come out of my mouth. I thought about how many times I would watch him speak and find myself wanting to touch his lips with mine. “Luca, I would very much like to kiss you.” There I said it. Lightening didn’t strike me down. I did say it didn’t I? I didn’t just think it in my head or did I? His gold flecked eyes studied me in the dim light, moving from looking into my eyes to lingering on my lips. The lips that had just spouted traitorous words mind you. “I think I would very much like to kiss you, and more; but… there was a long pause and I held my breath. ” I’m not going to.” And with that; he gazed at me as if memorizing my face one last time and rolled over and putting as much distance as possible between us.
So much for being asleep in five minutes. The storm raging outside is nothing compared to the one in me. When did I become this person? This woman? What about Matthew? How did my world get to the place that the person protecting my marriage is not IN my marriage? What am I thinking? I’m thinking that this is some kind of gift rather than a test or a curse and that I should take it. What harm would there be in one stolen night in the middle of nowhere, with no one to know? We would know of course, but really haven’t we already traveled a path to some kind of intimacy that the world would consider wrong? We have spoken words and there is no taking them back. He is lying there like a stone, pretending to be asleep and I know he is not. How strange it is to be in a bed with someone other than Matthew. Someone so different than Matthew.
I must have dozed because I came awake with a start. The light had burned out and the storm was raging on. Will it never end? Of course, when the storm clears we will no longer be locked into our private space and time here. There is a world full of friends and family out there and we have to step out and back into that world soon. I want to live in two worlds; one in which I can both have and love this man who is beside me. There I’ve said it, or thought it. I do have a love for him and have been carrying it for months, secretly tucked away where no one could see it. I don’t want my other life to be gone either; I want them both. I never understood how people could feel this way.
I can only have both tonight; then the light of the day will intrude on this one and it will be gone.
I move close to Luca. I sense that he is awake and very aware. “luca.” I whisper his name. “Luca, I have nothing to offer you but now. This very moment.” I breathe softly against his back and take a deep shaking breath. This is a determining moment for me; it will forever define for me who I am. I lay my hand on his back and trace small unseen patterns. Luca, my lovely beautiful Luca; wanting to do the honorable thing, ignores me.
Monday, April 20, 2009
So I've been attempting on and off to write a book or even a short story. My writing usually is driven by passion of some sort. Pain is usually the 'passion of choice'. So when I attempt to write I get drivel. I used to write a lot and people usually would tell me that I should publish this or that. Well; I wrote when I hurt and when I was sad. I realized that I was incredibly sad a few years ago and sought medical help. I ended up on medication that I truly did not want to take, but much to my surprise; changed me forever. Not into a zombie or lacking anything (or so I thought) but into a happier more positive person no longer seeing the doom and gloom in every corner of my world. My complaint about that came when I would attempt to write. I would sit and the words would not flow from my fingertips. Usually, as now, when I write; it simply happens. I don't THINK it like you would think or rehearse something you would say; but it literally flows from my brain to my fingers to the keys on the keyboard. Sure, I go back with my brain and edit, but not much. I know when I've written something really well because I'll read it and it will stir emotion in me. Those are always without fail; the things people tell me I should publish. The topic and story that keep popping out; are far from what I would choose to write. It is the oddest feeling to have this happen, like my will against my creative side. :) I suppose there is some latent thing in my mind or heart waiting to pour out; so I will give it voice and possibly it will go away!
All this to say that today and the rest of this week perhaps; I am going to write; it is a personal goal I have set. Interesting thing though. Every single attempt I make comes back to writing something that I would never read and thought I'd never write. Like there is something lurking around waiting to pour out. I've heard writers and artists speak of creating things that are from inside them or inside the medium of their art. Perhaps this is it. I personally think what keeps coming out is so much blather. So; my short term plan is to make the writing happen. I need a certain amount of environmental peace to accomplish that and that my friends, seldom happens for me. Once I write this 'drivel' I plan to post it to hopefully get some honest opinions from you; the readers of my humble little blog.
All this to say that today and the rest of this week perhaps; I am going to write; it is a personal goal I have set. Interesting thing though. Every single attempt I make comes back to writing something that I would never read and thought I'd never write. Like there is something lurking around waiting to pour out. I've heard writers and artists speak of creating things that are from inside them or inside the medium of their art. Perhaps this is it. I personally think what keeps coming out is so much blather. So; my short term plan is to make the writing happen. I need a certain amount of environmental peace to accomplish that and that my friends, seldom happens for me. Once I write this 'drivel' I plan to post it to hopefully get some honest opinions from you; the readers of my humble little blog.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
I went to my Aunt Virginia's funeral today. I had preconceived ideas of how it was going to be. Due in part I think to the fact that she belonged to a rather old and traditional Baptist Church. Much to my surprise; the funeral was not necessarily what you would have expected. Sure there were the requisite singers with poor audio and sound tracks, and the expected prayers and so on. BUT the huge difference was in the words of the pastor. He made it very plain that he had spoken to Virginia at some time and she had been specific about what her funeral should and should not be. She did not want a funeral about her! She wanted very much for the pastor to use the opportunity to speak to people who were gathered in her honor and remembrance, who may not have full understanding of God and Heaven. He managed to both honor my aunt and tell of salvation at the same time. Interspersed in his message were references to who Virginia was as a daughter of God. I was so touched and thrilled when he read Proverbs 31 and talked of how she WAS a Proverbs 31 woman. How her beloved husband, Thomas had cherished her and been honored by her living out her life this way.
I have to say that for me personally this funeral experience was very much one that was a true celebration of the life lived on Earth and among us here and how the end is not the end. The pastor spoke of how she 'went to sleep and woke in the loving arms of God'. If that doesn't move you, I just don't know what would.
I know some people just didn't get it. I could FEEL that it didn't make sense to some; those who were perhaps expecting keening and terrific sorrow. Instead they had a group of people singing songs of faith and God's great love and promises to us. I hope that in some way as the service moved on, that perhaps a tiny bit of openmindedness happened for these people. That is after all what Shinny had wanted this to be; a chance for them to hear that God has a great love for them.
I walked out of the church and into the bright sunlight and felt great gladness of heart. What a glorious celebration of a wonderful and loving woman of God.
I have to say that for me personally this funeral experience was very much one that was a true celebration of the life lived on Earth and among us here and how the end is not the end. The pastor spoke of how she 'went to sleep and woke in the loving arms of God'. If that doesn't move you, I just don't know what would.
I know some people just didn't get it. I could FEEL that it didn't make sense to some; those who were perhaps expecting keening and terrific sorrow. Instead they had a group of people singing songs of faith and God's great love and promises to us. I hope that in some way as the service moved on, that perhaps a tiny bit of openmindedness happened for these people. That is after all what Shinny had wanted this to be; a chance for them to hear that God has a great love for them.
I walked out of the church and into the bright sunlight and felt great gladness of heart. What a glorious celebration of a wonderful and loving woman of God.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
My sister called me last night, soon after I arrived home. When her number showed up on my caller ID I knew it was something unpleasant. NOT that she is unpleasant, we just communicate via chat, not phone calls unless there is a a 'situation'.
She was calling with the news that our aunt; our dad's sister Virginia had passed away a few minutes before. I must say that I was stunned. She had been ill, but for some strange reason; I think I felt she would live forever. I think because she had always been there.
She was my Daddy's older sister, about 12 years old to his 4 years old when their mother died from pneumonia. Daddy always said that she stepped in and raised him, and that even when their father remarried, he looked to his sister 'Shinny" as his mother figure.
She lived across the street from our family home. In my mind I think since the beginning of time. Sure; my parents had shared stories of the houses in the neighborhood being built and so on, but it was a vague faraway notion, not something I ever thought about. She was just there.
I have a few stories and images in my mind and heart about her, but none that really would matter in the telling. I think I've long held her as the picture of a Christian woman, solid in her belief and her faith, holding to her values even when others didn't understand and at times criticized her for them. She to me was a 'different' kind of woman than the mother I lived with. Where mine was dramatic and at times overbearing; she, Virginia, always seemed (to me at least) to be the calm of an early morning, peaceful under almost any situation. I'm sure there are things that I don't know, but I do know that she was my Daddy's beloved sister, his mother figure in life and that they shared the genetics of both parents. Daddy when not giving in to his drinking problem was one of the most calm and peaceful people you could ever meet. I believe that his 'Shinny' must have been very much like that; it is all I ever witnessed from her.
She was the last living child of her mother, my grandmother. Of the total (11) she claimed as siblings (including whole sisters/brothers, step-sister/brothers and half siblings) she was the last living child of Dolphus and MarthaAnn Elizabeth Murray. There are two half brothers of that original eleven left.
I feel a unique connection to my grandmother I never knew and think about her and her life often. When my dad died in 1997 my second thought after hearing the news was that at long last he was reunited with his mom that he had not seen in 71 years. I thought similar thoughts about Shinny last night. Home with her mom and dad, her brothers and sisters who have gone ahead and with her husband...... home with her beloved Lord.
She was calling with the news that our aunt; our dad's sister Virginia had passed away a few minutes before. I must say that I was stunned. She had been ill, but for some strange reason; I think I felt she would live forever. I think because she had always been there.
She was my Daddy's older sister, about 12 years old to his 4 years old when their mother died from pneumonia. Daddy always said that she stepped in and raised him, and that even when their father remarried, he looked to his sister 'Shinny" as his mother figure.
She lived across the street from our family home. In my mind I think since the beginning of time. Sure; my parents had shared stories of the houses in the neighborhood being built and so on, but it was a vague faraway notion, not something I ever thought about. She was just there.
I have a few stories and images in my mind and heart about her, but none that really would matter in the telling. I think I've long held her as the picture of a Christian woman, solid in her belief and her faith, holding to her values even when others didn't understand and at times criticized her for them. She to me was a 'different' kind of woman than the mother I lived with. Where mine was dramatic and at times overbearing; she, Virginia, always seemed (to me at least) to be the calm of an early morning, peaceful under almost any situation. I'm sure there are things that I don't know, but I do know that she was my Daddy's beloved sister, his mother figure in life and that they shared the genetics of both parents. Daddy when not giving in to his drinking problem was one of the most calm and peaceful people you could ever meet. I believe that his 'Shinny' must have been very much like that; it is all I ever witnessed from her.
She was the last living child of her mother, my grandmother. Of the total (11) she claimed as siblings (including whole sisters/brothers, step-sister/brothers and half siblings) she was the last living child of Dolphus and MarthaAnn Elizabeth Murray. There are two half brothers of that original eleven left.
I feel a unique connection to my grandmother I never knew and think about her and her life often. When my dad died in 1997 my second thought after hearing the news was that at long last he was reunited with his mom that he had not seen in 71 years. I thought similar thoughts about Shinny last night. Home with her mom and dad, her brothers and sisters who have gone ahead and with her husband...... home with her beloved Lord.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Today we did a wedding reception at work. This 'opportunity' came up shortly after I began working there and I was happy to say yes we would do it. I knew that my cook loved doing 'party' food and that it would be a great chance to really get into the kitchen with both of my cooks and get my hands dirty. Well, that yes was given several months ago and many dirty hands in between! I've had a fairly good chance to hang int he kitchen and show that I do indeed know my way around the pots and pans. It was still great to be able to work side by side with them; I think it keeps me humble and helps them to know me better. :)
Yesterday Brittany went in to work to lend a hand in the prep work. We spent the better part of the day dealing with linens that were NOT quite what I had ordered. SIGH. Then once we had the linens on the tables, we felt that the room design needed tweeking; so we proceeded to move tables. This proved to be a simple enough task but time consuming. The end result was much warmer and intimate than the original plan so it was wel worth the time.
Today, Lindsay and Brittany worked along with us. We got up and into work by 7:30 even though all of us are running on empty this week. Pretty much zero cumulitive sleep between the three of us. Lindsay was just giddy. There is just no other word for it. I knew going into the day today that she was most likely regretting saying she would work, and was longing for rest. The bride popped in to tell us a couple of things, and we all ooooh'd and ahhhh'd the cake and her beautiful flowers. We even took a break and went to the sanctuary to see the flowers! I could sense that Lindz was enjoying this tremendously. By the time we had the food on the buffet tables and the punch mixed and ready to be served, she was ....Giddy. She must have said ten times that she "loved this'.
When the bride and groom finally arrived at the reception; they had a story to share. Their love story has been written and published in a magazine and they wanted to read this to their guests. I had already been priveleged to hear this story, but was moved to teary eyes as she read aloud. They then danced a lovely dance to 'their song' ("Can't take my eyes off of you")and even threw in some neat choreography and singing to one another. I didn't dare meet the eyes of the women and girls standing around me for fear that we would all be blubbering and unable to do our jobs!
As the couple began to mingle with their guests; Lindsay looked at me and again said that she loved this. There was a long pause and then she said "I was NOT looking forward to this; but now, here and doing all this; I just love it." I told her that was pretty much how I felt day to day going in to work; that most days I didn't really look forward to it, but the minute I got there it all changes for me. Almost every day at work I stumble across or am smacked with a blessing that I could never have foreseen in that day.
I hope to find a way to post this lovely couple's story so you can read it soon. It is truly one of those things that you think can only be fiction.
Yesterday Brittany went in to work to lend a hand in the prep work. We spent the better part of the day dealing with linens that were NOT quite what I had ordered. SIGH. Then once we had the linens on the tables, we felt that the room design needed tweeking; so we proceeded to move tables. This proved to be a simple enough task but time consuming. The end result was much warmer and intimate than the original plan so it was wel worth the time.
Today, Lindsay and Brittany worked along with us. We got up and into work by 7:30 even though all of us are running on empty this week. Pretty much zero cumulitive sleep between the three of us. Lindsay was just giddy. There is just no other word for it. I knew going into the day today that she was most likely regretting saying she would work, and was longing for rest. The bride popped in to tell us a couple of things, and we all ooooh'd and ahhhh'd the cake and her beautiful flowers. We even took a break and went to the sanctuary to see the flowers! I could sense that Lindz was enjoying this tremendously. By the time we had the food on the buffet tables and the punch mixed and ready to be served, she was ....Giddy. She must have said ten times that she "loved this'.
When the bride and groom finally arrived at the reception; they had a story to share. Their love story has been written and published in a magazine and they wanted to read this to their guests. I had already been priveleged to hear this story, but was moved to teary eyes as she read aloud. They then danced a lovely dance to 'their song' ("Can't take my eyes off of you")and even threw in some neat choreography and singing to one another. I didn't dare meet the eyes of the women and girls standing around me for fear that we would all be blubbering and unable to do our jobs!
As the couple began to mingle with their guests; Lindsay looked at me and again said that she loved this. There was a long pause and then she said "I was NOT looking forward to this; but now, here and doing all this; I just love it." I told her that was pretty much how I felt day to day going in to work; that most days I didn't really look forward to it, but the minute I got there it all changes for me. Almost every day at work I stumble across or am smacked with a blessing that I could never have foreseen in that day.
I hope to find a way to post this lovely couple's story so you can read it soon. It is truly one of those things that you think can only be fiction.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Wasted Weekends
I've titled this as Wasted Weekends, but who really knows what I'm about to write about.
We have had the most unproductive weekend ever. I can't even say it was super fun. We bowled Friday night as usual. We didn't do horribly, but not great either. Mark's new bowling ball arrived Friday and we began the whole 'who should we get to drill it" routine. We have wavered between Ricky, who has done our bowling balls in the past, and maybe using someone new. Our search led us to Schrader Lanes in the West End. The pro was out at a tournament (one I was SUPPOSED to bowl in) but the lanes....oh the lanes!! There is a full bar, and I don't mean a shabby walk up bar, I mean a bar like in a nice restaraunt. Billiard tables and a game room. They have about 50 lanes too which is really awesome. The thing that stood out the most was that the tables behind the lanes were not separated by a wall of bowing ball stands, but rather were pulled up right behind the pit. Awesome! I can see that bowling in a league there might prove interesting. Mark and Steve are right THERE and Alex and I could meet them. It is of course a longer drive home, but really, it is such a cool place it might be worth it. ALTHOUGH; we went to Bowl America Southwest today, and were given two lanes without even asking, because they know us there. It is hard to give up that little tiny piece of small town feeling.
So, we didn't get the new ball drilled and came home and looked at it again. Mark decided he didn't like it. I said send it back and we had the whole conversation where I say do and he says no. We both went online and researched the ball. I think he will love it but it will be a new world of bowling for him.
I took Chelsea's friend Sophia back to WEAG to meet her mom and then came home and we all, including Connor, watched "Horton Hears a Who". We laughed ourselves silly. Who needs little kids to enjoy little kid movies!?
We bought a toilet repair kit for the downstairs bathroom. It did not get installed; who do you think will install this in the next couple of days...hmmm? you know it will be me. :)
So, did we go to church this morning? NO! Why? because we are slackers.
More to write but too much going on right now.
We have had the most unproductive weekend ever. I can't even say it was super fun. We bowled Friday night as usual. We didn't do horribly, but not great either. Mark's new bowling ball arrived Friday and we began the whole 'who should we get to drill it" routine. We have wavered between Ricky, who has done our bowling balls in the past, and maybe using someone new. Our search led us to Schrader Lanes in the West End. The pro was out at a tournament (one I was SUPPOSED to bowl in) but the lanes....oh the lanes!! There is a full bar, and I don't mean a shabby walk up bar, I mean a bar like in a nice restaraunt. Billiard tables and a game room. They have about 50 lanes too which is really awesome. The thing that stood out the most was that the tables behind the lanes were not separated by a wall of bowing ball stands, but rather were pulled up right behind the pit. Awesome! I can see that bowling in a league there might prove interesting. Mark and Steve are right THERE and Alex and I could meet them. It is of course a longer drive home, but really, it is such a cool place it might be worth it. ALTHOUGH; we went to Bowl America Southwest today, and were given two lanes without even asking, because they know us there. It is hard to give up that little tiny piece of small town feeling.
So, we didn't get the new ball drilled and came home and looked at it again. Mark decided he didn't like it. I said send it back and we had the whole conversation where I say do and he says no. We both went online and researched the ball. I think he will love it but it will be a new world of bowling for him.
I took Chelsea's friend Sophia back to WEAG to meet her mom and then came home and we all, including Connor, watched "Horton Hears a Who". We laughed ourselves silly. Who needs little kids to enjoy little kid movies!?
We bought a toilet repair kit for the downstairs bathroom. It did not get installed; who do you think will install this in the next couple of days...hmmm? you know it will be me. :)
So, did we go to church this morning? NO! Why? because we are slackers.
More to write but too much going on right now.
Friday, March 20, 2009
The cruise decision
Today, we woke to a strange and alarming sound from Princeton. Certain that something horrible was wrong with him, I felt around frantically for him as Mark was calling him. I couldn't find him so I flipped on the bedside lamp only to see him stand slowly up and look at us as if to say "What?" The sound he made can only be described as a sort of howl. Now, in ANY other dog, that might be a semi-normal sound, but not in a five pound Papillon. No, he screams and cries like a little girl and barks like some out of control dime store toy, but he has never howled. I don't know what it was unless perhaps he was dreaming...
So, wide awake way too early on our day off; we watched a little bit of the news on Fox and then decided that we really need a coffee maker in our bedroom. The lure of a steaming cup of coffee was too much to resist, so down the stairs we went. Over coffee and breakfast we decided that today would be the day that we shoveled out Mark's office. I think the word shovel is a bit optimistic, but we will go with it for now. We goofed off on our computers and talked with the girls as they got up for their days; Lindsay off to work and Chelsea to do her song writing and recording. The sounds of her music are the background of our daily lives; I only realized that when she wasn't here last week. Then, Mark says to me "So do you want to research cruises and pick something?" Well, duh! of course I do. Now I have to ask you; how distractable can two people be? We had discussed the Panama Canal when the idea of a cruise was first discussed, but then decided we really didn't want to venture into Mexico; so we were considering Alaska. From that point on we bounced from one location to another, from Alaska to TransAtlantic cruises! We looked at the standard cruise offerings and we looked at small ship cruising (something I think I would love because it is so specialized) discussed maybe just flying to England, went back to the idea of cruising the Panama Canal. WHEW. Then, once we settled on the fact that was truly what we wanted to do; we had to begin the tedious search for which cruise line and then.....the big question; When?
Well, we are pretty certain we have settled on Holland America Cruises and we will travel in November. I think.
Now, we realize we have literally sat in our kitchen the entire day, taking a short break to talk to Brittany about computer problems, talk to Mark's mom and dad as they travel today and to walk the dog. That is about it. Soon, we will leave to meet Steve and Alex at Don Pepe's for dinner and Dos Equis, then off to the bowling center to hopefully bowl better than I did last week.
So much for getting the office cleaned up.
So, wide awake way too early on our day off; we watched a little bit of the news on Fox and then decided that we really need a coffee maker in our bedroom. The lure of a steaming cup of coffee was too much to resist, so down the stairs we went. Over coffee and breakfast we decided that today would be the day that we shoveled out Mark's office. I think the word shovel is a bit optimistic, but we will go with it for now. We goofed off on our computers and talked with the girls as they got up for their days; Lindsay off to work and Chelsea to do her song writing and recording. The sounds of her music are the background of our daily lives; I only realized that when she wasn't here last week. Then, Mark says to me "So do you want to research cruises and pick something?" Well, duh! of course I do. Now I have to ask you; how distractable can two people be? We had discussed the Panama Canal when the idea of a cruise was first discussed, but then decided we really didn't want to venture into Mexico; so we were considering Alaska. From that point on we bounced from one location to another, from Alaska to TransAtlantic cruises! We looked at the standard cruise offerings and we looked at small ship cruising (something I think I would love because it is so specialized) discussed maybe just flying to England, went back to the idea of cruising the Panama Canal. WHEW. Then, once we settled on the fact that was truly what we wanted to do; we had to begin the tedious search for which cruise line and then.....the big question; When?
Well, we are pretty certain we have settled on Holland America Cruises and we will travel in November. I think.
Now, we realize we have literally sat in our kitchen the entire day, taking a short break to talk to Brittany about computer problems, talk to Mark's mom and dad as they travel today and to walk the dog. That is about it. Soon, we will leave to meet Steve and Alex at Don Pepe's for dinner and Dos Equis, then off to the bowling center to hopefully bowl better than I did last week.
So much for getting the office cleaned up.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
What is this?
We have somehow managed to raise a generation of people who apparently have never seen vegetables! Well, at least until they took a job working for Kroger or WalMart as a cashier and now have to go through the pain of carefully examining each and every fresh vegetable for a clue to its identity. How did we do this? Well, that was probably a really silly question; we did it by taking our kids to McDonald's for chicken nuggets and to Chucky Cheese for pizza every other meal or worse! When I have this experience at the checkout; I always have to squelch the urge to ask the poor deprived cashier if they have ever seen that particular vegetable in its cooked state! I know the answer and I don't like it. So; if I gave in and asked the question; I'd have to then quell the even stronger desire to ask for their mother's address so I could have a chat with her! LOL
I get asked lots of questions about products I purchase in stores. The best one and the one that really started my rant on this topic, isn't even about a vegetable but about Half and Half.
Hold onto your hats for this one!
I am in Wally World, checking out and have purchased a pint of Half and Half. I cook with it; like cream sauces and so on. So, the cashier looks at the pint turns it over and looks at it some more then asks me..... What is this? Is it different than milk? So, I explain to her that it is half CREAM and half whole milk, thus the Half and Half name. She looked me straight in the eye and asks "Well, what would happen if a person drank it?" I promise you I did not laugh, not even a twinkle in my eye! "Well," I answered, "I don't know that anything would happen right away, but perhaps the next day or so, their clothes might not fit as well." She looked at me and said "Really?" I gave up on my humor, as much as this situation cried out for it, and had a more serious conversation about fat and calories and cream rather than milk.
I hope someone is smiling with me. If I didn't summon up the humor, I swear I would cry.
I get asked lots of questions about products I purchase in stores. The best one and the one that really started my rant on this topic, isn't even about a vegetable but about Half and Half.
Hold onto your hats for this one!
I am in Wally World, checking out and have purchased a pint of Half and Half. I cook with it; like cream sauces and so on. So, the cashier looks at the pint turns it over and looks at it some more then asks me..... What is this? Is it different than milk? So, I explain to her that it is half CREAM and half whole milk, thus the Half and Half name. She looked me straight in the eye and asks "Well, what would happen if a person drank it?" I promise you I did not laugh, not even a twinkle in my eye! "Well," I answered, "I don't know that anything would happen right away, but perhaps the next day or so, their clothes might not fit as well." She looked at me and said "Really?" I gave up on my humor, as much as this situation cried out for it, and had a more serious conversation about fat and calories and cream rather than milk.
I hope someone is smiling with me. If I didn't summon up the humor, I swear I would cry.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
I think I've hit a boring point
Well, my excitement for the day has been changing the filter for the heat pump. Mark took his Harley to the shop to get new pipes, and when he moved it out of the garage; I took advantage of the ability to get to the filter. Now, tell me that isn't exciting stuff.
I got it in my head to scrub and bleach my counter top in the kitchen, as well as everything sitting on the counter. I did that and didn't want then, to leave the cabinets looking less than spiffy; so I dug through my supplies and pulled out a spray bottle of wood conditioner. Perfect I thought! So I climb on my kitchen stool and go around the room, happily spraying and cleaning the cabinets, I took care to catch any drips with the cloth as I went. WELL. It appears that the sprayer was doing some serious overspraying or something, because when I finished, the cabinets looked really nice but there were spots of this wood conditioner all over my nice clean counter. So I had to wipe it down again. This is how my life goes usually. And I even try to look for things like that so that I can circumvent them.
I just talked to Mark, he is still at Colonial Harley Davidson but thinks he will be done soon. He tells me that he bought a cover for his bike. THIS because after months of talking about and shopping for a shed for the bike, which we agreed we would buy, we still don't have one. The bike is in the garage and the cats apparently have decided they would like to crawl about on it. There were claw marks on the saddlebags this morning when he got it out. That was unpleasant.
I think a shed would be my best answer. I really want more than anything at this moment in time to finish off the garage. I can't even begin to do that with the Harley sitting in there. It isn't like the powerwasher, that I can just grab and drag out when I need it out of the way.
So, are we boring or what? I usually have bunches to say, but really life is kind of swallowing me right now.
Debbie Miller and I had lunch last week and she asked me if Mark and I would consider starting a Table Group. We thought on this for about a week and decided we would. I haven't really moved forward on this yet, and seem to be having trouble doing so. I'm not sure why.
Well, maybe I do. You know; I always seem to lead stuff. I really just want to let someone else lead for once. I want someone to start a group and invite ME, because they like me or because someone told them they might or because they don't know any better. I want to just coast in one little corner of my life and let someone else drive. Is that too much to ask? I always tell people what a control freak I am, and maybe that is why I always lead.
Any thoughts, comments or therapy will be welcomed.
I got it in my head to scrub and bleach my counter top in the kitchen, as well as everything sitting on the counter. I did that and didn't want then, to leave the cabinets looking less than spiffy; so I dug through my supplies and pulled out a spray bottle of wood conditioner. Perfect I thought! So I climb on my kitchen stool and go around the room, happily spraying and cleaning the cabinets, I took care to catch any drips with the cloth as I went. WELL. It appears that the sprayer was doing some serious overspraying or something, because when I finished, the cabinets looked really nice but there were spots of this wood conditioner all over my nice clean counter. So I had to wipe it down again. This is how my life goes usually. And I even try to look for things like that so that I can circumvent them.
I just talked to Mark, he is still at Colonial Harley Davidson but thinks he will be done soon. He tells me that he bought a cover for his bike. THIS because after months of talking about and shopping for a shed for the bike, which we agreed we would buy, we still don't have one. The bike is in the garage and the cats apparently have decided they would like to crawl about on it. There were claw marks on the saddlebags this morning when he got it out. That was unpleasant.
I think a shed would be my best answer. I really want more than anything at this moment in time to finish off the garage. I can't even begin to do that with the Harley sitting in there. It isn't like the powerwasher, that I can just grab and drag out when I need it out of the way.
So, are we boring or what? I usually have bunches to say, but really life is kind of swallowing me right now.
Debbie Miller and I had lunch last week and she asked me if Mark and I would consider starting a Table Group. We thought on this for about a week and decided we would. I haven't really moved forward on this yet, and seem to be having trouble doing so. I'm not sure why.
Well, maybe I do. You know; I always seem to lead stuff. I really just want to let someone else lead for once. I want someone to start a group and invite ME, because they like me or because someone told them they might or because they don't know any better. I want to just coast in one little corner of my life and let someone else drive. Is that too much to ask? I always tell people what a control freak I am, and maybe that is why I always lead.
Any thoughts, comments or therapy will be welcomed.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
So, my plan for action, or rather my plan against inaction, didn't do too much for me today. I let myself be distracted by the pets. Actually, not the pets but rather their need for food and supplies. Chelsea and I went to Petco first, and got the dog's and the cats' food (because I can't and won't feed them junk, but that is another post.) We really visited the Sun Conure that Chelsea has a little crush on; his name is Peter. Hmm... Piper and Peter. I'm not too sure about that. Piper's food of course had to be purchased at PetSmart where we were lured into buying a snazzy little toy to keep her busy. It is a foraging toy, to encourage her to think. Well. She is interested in it, but wary. This is the bird who is afraid of WHITE things! She will come around, I feel sure she will.
After dinner tonight, I brought Piper to the kitchen where she stayed rather close to me and purred a lot. She seemed a little nervous and we took care to be a little less rowdy than usual. She was happy enough to go back into her own space after having a nutriberry and pooping on things a couple of times.
Lindsay came home from her baby-sitting job full of stories. We are encouraging her to write a book! I think it would be a best seller. We always said we should write down the stories of our days with Meah and Andrew and I never did. I shared a few with friends via emails, but after a day of those two the idea of reliving the antics through words on paper, or on my computer screen, was rather daunting.
Today is our 'little Friday'; Mark is off tomorrow and we plan to go to see the Watchmen, hopefully in the Imax theatre. I know Brittany and Derrick are going to be miffed. Sorry guys.
I have had a headache all day. I have been pretty useless. I'm completely incapable of coming up with anything of any value to write/blog about, so I'm going to have a glass of wine and play around on Facebook.
later...
After dinner tonight, I brought Piper to the kitchen where she stayed rather close to me and purred a lot. She seemed a little nervous and we took care to be a little less rowdy than usual. She was happy enough to go back into her own space after having a nutriberry and pooping on things a couple of times.
Lindsay came home from her baby-sitting job full of stories. We are encouraging her to write a book! I think it would be a best seller. We always said we should write down the stories of our days with Meah and Andrew and I never did. I shared a few with friends via emails, but after a day of those two the idea of reliving the antics through words on paper, or on my computer screen, was rather daunting.
Today is our 'little Friday'; Mark is off tomorrow and we plan to go to see the Watchmen, hopefully in the Imax theatre. I know Brittany and Derrick are going to be miffed. Sorry guys.
I have had a headache all day. I have been pretty useless. I'm completely incapable of coming up with anything of any value to write/blog about, so I'm going to have a glass of wine and play around on Facebook.
later...
A Plan to be sort of motivated
So, today I find myself strangely unmotivated. I was so happy to have today to do some things around the house that had been nagging at me and now; with that time available; I want to do nothing. The thing about doing nothing is that it carries with it regrets. When the motivation returns I'll look around and say "Why didn't I do that?" Sigh.
So, this is my plan and it usually works for me when I don't FEEL like doing something I should.
I will go get dressed. (shamefully I am NOT dressed appropriately for my day) Then I'll put a load of laundry in to wash and I'll set the timer. With the timer safely set to remind me; I'll pick up and tidy the kitchen from the morning's wear and tear and I'll start the dishwasher. Then I'll allow myself a fifteen minute reward time and play on my computer or read or turn on the news. By the time that break is up, the timer will be beeping and I'll move the laundry and start that routine all over again. The key for me on a day like this is to not be distracted by things that pop into my mind that I want to do. Things like a phone call to a friend or deciding to bake. Today though, I have to bake.
This usually works, for me; I hope if you have taken the time to read this, that it will inspire you to try it on one of your unmotivated days.
So, this is my plan and it usually works for me when I don't FEEL like doing something I should.
I will go get dressed. (shamefully I am NOT dressed appropriately for my day) Then I'll put a load of laundry in to wash and I'll set the timer. With the timer safely set to remind me; I'll pick up and tidy the kitchen from the morning's wear and tear and I'll start the dishwasher. Then I'll allow myself a fifteen minute reward time and play on my computer or read or turn on the news. By the time that break is up, the timer will be beeping and I'll move the laundry and start that routine all over again. The key for me on a day like this is to not be distracted by things that pop into my mind that I want to do. Things like a phone call to a friend or deciding to bake. Today though, I have to bake.
This usually works, for me; I hope if you have taken the time to read this, that it will inspire you to try it on one of your unmotivated days.
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