Chores

Herself speaks.

I took my car for an oil change/service this morning. Car Things are tasks that I thoroughly loathe doing, but I know I need to be able to handle such tasks myself. And so I did.

Afterwards, I went to select new glasses since my prescription has changed slightly. This is an onerous task, too -- it requires looking in a mirror, repeated times. Not to mention, looking really close-up, because I cannot see my face without my prescription glasses. Ugh. Sigh.

Now I should go exercise, clean the house, do the grocery shopping, and then do some Work.

Sometimes, I am tired of being an Adult. This might be one of those times.

However: I had a bowl of ice cream for a late lunch. That would be a perk of being an Adult.

Old, New, Borrowed, Blue

Herself speaks.

The wedding in which I will be a member of the 'court' is approaching, I chat on occasion with the bride-to-be, and hear about how the plans are coming along. It's clear that she has a distinct vision as to how she wants everything to be for the wedding, and she has a flock of people who are helping her to make things come to fruition. Good for her. I hope it turns out as well as she imagines it. 

I have been thinking back to my own wedding, and as I try to conjure up the details from that nearly-a-quarter-of-a-century ago, certain small vignettes have surfaced. And not all of them are good. 

Here are some of the the not-so-good recollections. Perhaps, by writing them out, I can exorcise them from my memory.

* When I mentioned to a close relative that I was a little worried my dress wouldn't fit right on the day of the wedding, I was told, "So, you just won't be able to breathe." 

* When I went with that same relative to the shoe store in the mall to find low-heeled shoes for the ceremony, she stood apart, by the door, not looking at me or talking to me, and I stood alone looking at the shoes. Was she tired? Bored? Upset for some reason? I don't know, and I didn't ask at the time, because I did not want a 'scene'; I just chose quickly so that we could leave. 

* When I took the headpiece I'd selected - a wreath of cloth and lace flowers, which I loved - to my mother's hairdresser (since I lived elsewhere and did not have a hairdresser of my own for the event), the hairdresser exclaimed that it was all wrong and terrible, and I had to reiterate that it was what I was wearing, so could she please help? (She did, and I tried to forget about being self-conscious about the headpiece.) 

* The same hairdresser offered to do my mother's makeup that morning, resulting in us being late getting back from the salon, and my not having sufficient time to do my own makeup as slowly and carefully as I had wanted. (If we had left the wedding at 11:30 AM, as I'd wanted, it would have been fine; because of something about the venue of the reception and the timing of everything, though, my mother indicated the wedding would have to be at 10 AM. And so it was rescheduled accordingly.)

There are more. But those are enough. 

Perhaps I should have stood up for myself and my desires more, and perhaps there is no one to blame but myself for the parts that did not happen as I'd would ideally have wanted them to happen. (Or perhaps it was a lesson in compromise -- a valuable lesson for wedded life. Or perhaps it was simply a lesson to remind me that I could not control how other people behaved about the wedding.)  And anyway, do those details even really matter? In the grand scheme of things, the ultimate wish came true: I married my Beloved. Perhaps the small details should have been immaterial. 

There were good parts, too, I remind myself. I loved the dress. Beloved Husband and I had picked the readings we wanted from the offerings in the booklet from the Church. And we had the rings we'd chosen. I haven't ever taken my ring off. I like that. 

Let the rest go, I tell myself. And mostly, I can. 

Every now and then, though, I think that it would have been nice if a few more of the details had been as I had wished. 

Let it go, my heart.

 I still have my shoes.

And the headpiece, which I still love. 

Those Words

Herself speaks.

I had a brief conversation with Offspring the First today. We chatted about this and that and stuff. As we were saying our goodbyes, I told her it had been nice talking to her. And she replied, "It was nice talking to you too. I always feel better after we talk."

Ah, child. I am so glad. I hope I can always be that person for you. I will try as hard as I can.

In the Wind

Today's earworm: In the Wind by Lord Huron.

Lots of earworms lately.

Sometimes the right songs are, well, just right.

I hope you enjoy.

In the Bathroom

In the news everywhere these days is controversy about bathrooms.

What?

Yes, bathrooms.

North Carolina's HB2 (you can find a bit of explanation here, for example) requires that trans individuals use the rest room of their birth gender, rather than the gender with which they identify.

I have many angry feelings about this. Most of my anger is because there appears to be some kind of fundamental misunderstanding of what it means to be trans. Transgender is an integral aspect of one's person, going to the very question of who one is, of what gender one is -- in soul, if not in body. (The body fails the soul, so many times, in small and large ways.) What transgender is NOT, is a boy waking up one day and just deciding to be and dress like a girl in order to use the ladies' room, in the hopes of being able to take advantage of the women in there.

Not to mention, there is also described in the media some kind of (irrational and ridiculous) fear that trans people are in fact pedophiles and children in bathrooms are in danger. For pete's sake. I can't even justify that with a response.

I am not afraid of trans women in the bathroom. I welcome any person who wants to be within the sisterhood of women. It's not easy. Why isn't it easy? Because so often, we are afraid of men. The ones who would hurt us, not (just) in the ladies' room, but anywhere and everywhere.

Keep transgender people out of the ladies room, for our "safety"?  No. How about finding a way to protect us from predators, wherever they may be?

From Facebook. 

Time

C’est le temps que tu as perdu pour ta rose qui fait ta rose si importante. 

- Antoine de Saint-Exupery, Le Petit Prince

Here I Am

To round out the week of music, we have Leona Lewis, Here I Am.

Purple Rain

Prince -- so extraordinarily talented, so unique, so paisley and purple and sexual without pretext -- has moved on to a different plane today. It seems inconceivable that he should die; he seemed ageless somehow. His music was very much a part of the soundtrack of high school and college, and with his passing, another piece of my youth has gone.

Godspeed, Prince. And, because it is a classic: Purple Rain.

Like You Do

Today's earworm (with apologies for it being tied to Fifty Shades of Grey, as well as for it being a stereotypical pop song): Love Me Like You Do, by Ellie Goulding.

I hope you enjoy.

Rain, Unplugged

Today's earworm: Here Comes The Rain Again, by the Eurythmics.

Ah, Annie Lennox. Your voice is mesmerizing.

I hope you enjoy.

Give Me Love

Going to do music all week long.

Today's earworm: Give Me Love, Ed Sheeran.

I hope you enjoy.

An Actual Smoke Break

Follow-up to yesterday's Smoke Break: went to see Carrie Underwood in concert last night.

She's so very talented, and lovely, and seems to be a genuinely nice person. And she puts on a fantastic show.

I'm glad I seized the opportunity to go. 

Smoke Break

Today's earworm: Carrie Underwood, Smoke Break. Indeed.

So here's to you and here's to when the day gets long
Go ahead, I understand if you wanna take a load off
I don't drink
But sometimes I need a stiff drink
Sipping from a high, full glass
Let the world fade away
Yeah, and I don't smoke
But sometimes I need a long drag
Yeah, I know it might sound bad
But sometimes I need a, sometimes I need a...
When the day gets long
When the work's all done
When the sun sets
When you need to forget
Grab that cup
Fill it up
Sip it slow
And let it all go

Mug

Moo.

Surprise (Prince)

Herself speaks.

Beloved Husband is a very busy man. He has many clients who depend upon him, and he strives to ensure that they all receive the very best of his efforts. His work ethic is admirable. He has little leisure time, but does manage to squeeze a bit of rest and relaxation into some evenings. He reads news articles; watches Youtube videos about his particular interests; and every week or two, he visits here. (I don't ask or remind him to do so, because his leisure time should be his own, without any form of pressure to do particular things.) It's a busy life he leads.
-----

I am not, ordinarily, a fan of surprises. I like to know exactly what is happening, and when, and where, and (if possible) why. And yet, very busy Beloved Husband presented me with what can only be described as A Truly Thoughtful Surprise.

Remember the post about Le Petit Prince? I had mentioned that in my free time, I might look for a French/English version of the book.

And lo and behold, Beloved Husband not only visited the blog, but after reading that post, went online and found such a book, and then presented it to me.

Thank you, Beloved.

On risque de pleurer un peu si l’on s’est laissé apprivoiser...

Post-apocalyptic Music

Today's earworm: The World Ender, by Lord Huron. I imagine that this is the song playing as our hero/heroine travels across the post-apocalyptic desert, seeking water, a trustworthy companion, and revenge.

Spring Has Sprung

Two official signs of spring:

First: more lizards - especially a big one (relatively speaking):

Second: the roses, blooming (Tiny Dog is rather mistrustful of a flower that is larger than she is):

15,000

We pulled into the garage the other day, and noted that we've achieved 15,000 miles on the marvelous Subaru.  (Seems like just yesterday that we hit 10,000.)

Except for an issue with tire that had a slow leak (and has now been repaired), it has been a lovely driving experience. Well done, Subaru.

Peachy

Spotted: a pseudo-crocheted pair of peach pants. Look closely - they are see-through, with coordinating, built-in, peach granny panties underneath.

No.

Beantown

Beloved Husband went on a whirlwind business trip to Boston, and sent a few pictures. Ah, Boston -- we do not miss you (once upon a time, we lived near there), but we would enjoy doing touristy things there again someday.

First, the view from his hotel: nifty.

Next, the Kindness Rocks Project in the Public Garden. I had not heard of this project until now. I wholeheartedly approve. (For more information, look here: http://www.thekindnessrocksproject.com/)

Make way for ducklings! I enjoy their bonnets.

 The Old North Memorial Garden, which I have never visited, but hope to, someday.

The MIT chapel -- where Herself's parents got married, many, many years ago.

And finally: seafood!

What Makes Things Better

Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can; all of them make me laugh. ― W.H. Auden

Rest

This is how I feel.

Think I will go to bed early today.

Red Shoe Day

Herself speaks.

Today was a day replete with mechanical and technology-related near-failures. I scraped through, with a little help, by the skin of my teeth, and am currently a few inches farther away from breaking into wracking sobs of exhaustion than I was earlier today.

Nevertheless: today, I wore cute shoes. Because when one is nearing tears, satisfactory footwear succeeds in making things a tiny bit better.

Spring Song

Today's earworm: Kiss Me (Ed Sheeran). I'm not sure why this song is so compelling: perhaps it reminds me -- just as the budding of spring here in the desert does -- of the first blossoming of love.

We hope you enjoy.

The First Lizard of the Season

A wee little lizard, missing part of its tail, spotted while out for a late evening walk. 

Springtime!

Across the Arroyo

Went for a walk this evening, in between tasks. It was a lovely night out: mostly clear with a few hints of clouds, a good temperature, and a slight breeze.  Nice.

I'd forgotten how much I enjoy an evening constitutional.

Light

Believe that there's light at the end of the tunnel. Believe that you might be that light for someone else. - Kobi Yamada

Picture copyright 2016, Mediocria Firma. Used with gratitude

Gibraltar

It could be the lingering migraine, or the impact of multiple social events within twenty-four hours in last weekend, or generalized sorrow and worry about things over which I have no control, or just plain exhaustion, or perhaps most of all, fatigue from being an emotional/financial/intellectual Rock of Gibraltar, that has led to this point. Regardless, here I am: I have fallen into the well.

Have mercy on me, Universe, for I am empty.

This lovely view of the actual Rock of Gibraltar was found here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rock_of_Gibraltar#/media/File:Rock_of_Gibraltar_northwest.jpg

Again

Herself speaks.
-----

"You shouldn't get married again. You should just shack up."

I'm not sure exactly how the topic of conversation -- remarriage -- came up in casual conversation, but it did. It's not unusual, really; I have, on numerous occasions, reminded Beloved Husband that in the unlikely event of my untimely demise, he should find a new wife. And I've pointed this out to many people, including all of the women in the office, so that, in the unlikely event of my untimely demise, there will be other people who might have in their heads the idea that a woman they know might make a good wife for Beloved Husband. He needs a wife. I would not want him to be lonely.

(I know it might seem grim to contemplate this. In this expanse of middle-age, though, the realities of one's temporary time on this planet are abundantly clear. Even when we hope and pray that the Grim Reaper will not darken the doorstep for many more decades, we know far too well that Heartbreaking Things Sometimes Happen.)

I was surprised, though, by the admonishment that I myself shouldn't get remarried. And I'll admit that one of my first internal reactions was a petulant thought of I should get remarried right away just because I've been told not to do so, which is a completely ridiculous reaction. It's not as though I could just remarry by myself -- it obviously involves a second person, and thus some serious time and consideration to get to know that someone and decide that they would be a good partner.

(Not to mention, the tsunami of grief associated with the loss of someone So Very Important, that would have to be borne. I don't think about that part. I cannot.)

Why not get remarried, I asked in response to the advice I'd received. Apparently "it would complicate the money." Erm, what money? At this point in my life, with two Offspring in college and a third nearly there, plus a change in career, I'm worth more from a life insurance point of view than from any other view. Besides, in the event that I were to miraculously inherit a giant pile of money, there are things like prenuptial agreements that would help ensure that a future spouse wouldn't be marrying me solely in the hopes of getting hands on my cash. Not really an issue.

In the end, I explained that, if the unthinkable happened and Beloved Husband were to shuffle off this mortal coil sooner rather than later, I would ultimately be willing to get remarried if I were to meet the right person.
-----

I was very young when I got married -- just having turned 24. I had spent the previous three-plus years in a long distance relationship with Beloved Husband, and I had no idea about what it would be like to even see the man I love on a daily basis, let alone what I wanted marriage to be like. He and I have grown into our selves together. Now, nearly a quarter of a century later, I have a very good idea about the joys of having a spouse, about the pitfalls that can befall any relationship, and about the work and the pleasure of building a mutual life together.

I now know myself: I know what I want, and what I do not want. I know what I need. And I know what kinds of sacrifices I am willing to make for another person.

I know to appreciate someone who listens and tries to understand, who searches for the right words to help me feel better, who does not walk away when times are tough. I am grateful when my efforts are appreciated and supported. I find joy when someone makes me laugh. I realize that little gestures are important to help someone else to feel loved. I understand that each day is a new day, not only to remember heartwarming moments in the past, but also to build new moments again and again.

(Thank you, Beloved Husband, for your part in these Life Lessons. I am grateful for all we have learned together.)

If the situation arose, I would take what I have learned in being married to Beloved Husband, and in due time, go out into the world and consider trying again. There would be no replacing him, for he is Unique in all the Universe. Nevertheless, I would not be afraid of eventually contemplating a commitment to another person. And I truly hope he would do the same, if the situation were reversed.

In the end, life is too short not to love - and I would rather risk having my heart broken, than leave it untouched on a shelf evermore.