Tag Archives: thoughts

Words

When I used the “loo” at my Aunt L’s home I had to look up a new word in the dictionary, spell it, define it and use it in a sentence.

A young family member got married last weekend and I think of words. They are used in a marriage ceremony, and every day at home and work and at the grocery store.

My miracle is that we do not need words. He knows when to take my hand, as he did on our first date. He knows what I need, I know what he needs and we do a lot of our public communication without words. To hold hands walking down a sidewalk we don’t even look at each other, just reach out at the same time. I am hoping the same for the newlyweds.

We do speak, but I wonder if we are no longer able to speak due to age or illness can we transfer thoughts to each other. We’re that close. I think we can do it. Whenever he’s home we hold hands and say we love each other every day. Yes, words. They have their place. Thank you Homer, Shakespeare, Austen, poets and wordsmiths everywhere for letting your thoughts inspire me to just take his arm across an icy street without a word or a glance. We just know. And he’ll know when to let me go. Dee

Clarity

I don’t actually see things. I just know our path when it’s right. Right now I know what we are supposed to leave in our wake but am still confused as to our future. My lack of clarity, argued and won by my significant other, has caused stress in the past.

Around 12:25 a.m. my husband showed up. He’s been away for over four months on a job, visiting for only 30 hours over Labor Day weekend. January will mark 12 years of marriage.

Building blocks. Perhaps I’ve an inner architect. I can tell you that a young organizer helped me motor through a few boxes and turn Boxlandia into a Tuscan Retreat just yesterday. We’re on a time warp here so Zoe and I got up at what would be 4:30 a.m. his time. He’s back asleep.

I’m hoping that the clues he gives me during his brief stay will bring us together and make his requested spaghetti and meat balls even better. I’m making the meatballs Swedish-style Kottbullar but using fresh bread crumbs in milk, then 1/2 pork and 1/2 beef plus onions and garlic. Yes, neighbor G direct from Sweden taught me how to make meatballs, the softest and tastiest I’ve ever had. Now I’ve a final exam to take. Perhaps I’ll give him a meatball from tonight’s dinner. If I pass, he has to learn to make real Pedernales Texas chili. Then G will take my final chili exam. Remember, there are no beans in Texas chili.

Neighbors are wonderful. One is a retired architect who always has a flower theme, very avant garde. He drew us a welcome sign to place outside the door to greet my husband. when he arrived early this morning.

Keeping quiet in our home is difficult as I want to cook and do dishes and the dog wants to tag team us so no-one leaves her. Herding instincts. So I’m writing and don’t think he can hear the keys tick behind a closed door. I didn’t really figure in the time difference but as he’s on his way from central to eastern I should get him used to it. perhaps noon.

Sorry to say I’m starting a Honey-Do list. Don’t worry, it’ll only take 1/2 hour.

Right now I don’t want to make noise. Zoe is on the bed sleeping, with the door open so she can come out to see me. He’s been gone for a long time so she doesn’t know if he’s staying. He is not. I will drive his car 1,200 miles to Thanksgiving and he will take it another 1,500 miles to save on a thousand dollars a month in rental cars.

The future will be in my heart and mind soon. Right now I have to make meatballs. Also what someone calls “corn quiche” which is a corn custard with chorizo and mushrooms.” Google it.

I was single for a long time. Being single again while being married for nearly 12 years is not something we wish to continue. I can’t walk down the street with our dog, holding hands, through a phone call or email. Let us look forward to good times and good food. Cheers! Dee

Instruments

I had a revelation today. As the lightning, thunder, wind, rain, snow and sleet came down around me I realize I have a voice.

When I was young, it was channeled into violin, piano and ballet. Then my parents got me a cheap guitar and I started up a mainly tone-deaf band at age 12.

I gave it all up. Singing a solo and being second then first chair violin was stressful. I was very shy and one parent told me I could do anything or be anything, and the other said I was worthless. That guitar was stolen.

A few years ago after I filed our taxes (which I’ve yet to do this year) I went in and bought a starter guitar and signed up for lessons. I took private lessons from  a gospel singer, then a drummer. I bought a fancy guitar and the only thing I do for it now is keep it hydrated.

I wondered why I couldn’t keep up the music, then just figured it out in this storm. I’ve found a voice. Some folks around me don’t like it, but for the past 15 years I have a voice. I called both my US Senators today. My voice and my pen (keyboard now) are my instruments for now.

Yes, every once in a while I lay back, close my eyes, tune my guitar and play Bye Bye Miss American Pie, or Teach Your Children, or even 500 Miles. Perhaps I’ll do that now.

My voice needs to be my voice and words until they are no longer needed, then I can play another instrument. I am a multi-tasker but with everything else… Think about it, Dee