Gold Rings, Honeycrisp Apples, and Washing Dishes

Ok so I am not one to make a big deal out of our wedding day. I tend to think of it as a the day we went to get papers to satisfy the government and parents who felt the right thing to do after two kids is make it “official”. I hate rules that say you need a witness and papers for what you’re already doing. We were already living together and had the boys. So what was the point? Well, there was health insurance from his job we needed to cover me and we would save on our taxes and car insurance. OK when we looked at it economically then it made sense. So we got up on Saturday September 17, 1988 and drove to South Lake Tahoe with some family members and our sons. Of course there were complications and all around weirdness. I never thought about being married before and maybe because I was still pretty young I didn’t think it was a big deal. So I had on a knit blue dress, Bob a suit. We got simple gold rings. I forgot to get flowers. I wore tennis shoes because I forget dress shoes. Ludie, our witness, was holding Adam who kept crying because he was fussy baby. Alex, three at the time and our best man, throws the rings down says that it was stupid to be standing there doing “nothing”. I was distracted by the kids. I had no idea what the minister was saying or who else was present, I only know that afterwards we were driving home and decided to stop at apple hill and buy apples. It was the first time I ever had a Honeycrisp apple, the most favorable apple I ever ate. We went home watched some television then went to bed with the boys between us. It was weeks later when washing dishes I kept clicking my gold ring on the glasses that I accepted the magnitude of marriage. Wow, I got married. What happened to that girl that insisted that marriage was some sort of governmental way of keeping track and control of every one? The one who felt that since there was no good example of marriage anywhere, there was no way in hell I was going to fall into that trap. Damn, that girl was gone and was replaced with this domestic woman who was busting suds, as her that gold weighed heavily on my hand. That night Bob would tell me, for the four hundredth time, how much he loves and thanks me for marrying him. He still does that. Even after 20 years he still says he loves me, the reluctant wife. So we still don’t officially celebrate that fateful Saturday, we just say happy anniversary and kiss each other once maybe twice. There are no cards exchanged or flowers for the occasion either. We still go to bed at different times on that night and although the boys are away and in college, as a rule we symbolically act as if they are still there between us. The day passes like any other, loving each other, celebrating just being, nothing special. Cool. But I remember the day every time I bite into a Honeycrisp apple or when my ring hits the side of the glass while washing the dishes. He is my guy and I his wife. Weird and cool. Soon December 15 will roll around and that is when we celebrate like the happy married couple we truly are….but of course that is another story.

Dumpster Diving

So as I pull out of the garage 4 months ago I spotted a red coffee table leaning against a fence behind a set of apartments that share our alleyway. I thought, “Wow what a nice table, someone must be moving”. I went about my day not thinking about the table further. Then I return from my outing and as I was pulling in I see that the table was still there, leaning against the fence calling my name. I wonder then if it was being thrown out or if someone was selling it. I told myself if I see it still there the day I would inquire about it. Of course I don’t go back into the alley for about week and when I do the table is still there, still calling me. I start to fantasize about how it would look in my condo, how I could introduce it to the rest of the furniture. I wondered if it was cold or lonely out there leaning against that fence and why would anyone leave it there. So for the next few weeks then months I would see this painted coffee table just leaning, getting dirtier and dirtier every day. I thought about just picking it up at night and bringing it in. No one would see me I reasoned. I asked my honey, Bob, about it and he tells me to leave it alone and don’t steal it. Shoot, I thought he would just offer to go get for me. Then the boys come home from college I tell them about the coffee table every time we pull out of the garage. They offer to get it but I refuse. I thought that they should not just take things just because I want it. If they got caught and went to jail then college is over for them and it would be my fault for having them steal. (That’s the mother in me worries in overdrive). So this goes on all summer until this week. Saturday Mona comes to visit and after we drop off her luggage at the condo we decide to hang out in the city. Of course I show her the table leaned up against the neighbor’s fence. It becomes the thing we talk about all week. She asks all the questions of course. Why not just take it? Have you asked Bob to help you? Did you knock on the apartment doors? Do you really want it? Hell yeah I did! So, after a few more days of her teasing me about being a too chicken to take something that is not mine. We asked the first person we saw leaving the apartment about the table. They had no idea about it. Then the next day we asked another woman we saw coming out of there she says the table been there for months and we should just take. So Friday we did. I was beautifully heavy with wonderfully chipped and peeling paint. We bring it in, I cleaned it up and place it up in front of the chaise lounge. Perfect. It’s happy, I’m thrilled and it cost me nothing but some pestering from my niece. Life is good.

Nephews, Money and My Honey

Two cool things happened today. First I got an email from my nephew who is currently serving in the Air Force. He is located in Japan and is coming for one day to Seattle. I am so happy to be able to hang out with him (it been about 4 years since seeing him).
The second thing to happen was I found $10 in a pair of jeans I have not worn in long time. I don’t like these particular jeans because I have this flat behind and the jeans just make it more noticeable. I put on the jeans because I have not washed my favorite ones so I down to the last pair. The baggy butt ones. They just happen to have $10 in them. This really rocks when that happens. Money I did not plan comes to me. Love it.
Also I shaved my legs today. A big hell yeah for those of us who know great that feels. I could not shave for four days because I was shaky from Multiple Sclerosis. So an uncontrolled shaky hand and leg while shaving is not good idea. So I had to wait until the shakiness stopped. Today was that day. Now I feel all clean and smooth again. That is the thing with having MS. I have to depend on someone else to do the things I constantly like to do for myself. It takes away your sense of independence and self. It keeps you still and immobile when you already planned your day or week. It drives you crazy thinking you can do the same thing you did the day before with even when you’re too weak. Like open jars or hand washing and you never get a day off from it. It just some days are not as bad others. The cool thing is that I learned quickly who has my back in after all. If there was any time I know for sure my guy would do anything for me is when I need to pee during an MS attack. He is the one who helps me up when I fall from walking. He never complains and never allows me to get down on myself about it. Most importantly when I am feeling better and having easy day he understands my need to get out and see the world. And what a beautiful world it is with someone willing to hang with you even while you’re not doing or looking your best.

the blog

The idea of a blog is scary for me. I try to keep most of my life private. Not sharing too much with anyone except my guy. Mostly, I am not one to give myself away to whims. That is to say the idea of blog seems such a trendy thing to start and who would I get to read this anyway? Then my son, who never has a good thing to say about blogs, started writing a blog. Not that I am all that competitive with my sons but it got me to thinking that this would be good way for me to get myself out there. So here it is my first entry in my new blog. Damn I hope its good.