Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
The eighteen year anniversary of the day that Brian, in his unwavering persuasiveness, convinced me to sing a duet with him in front of 300+ people. In a church.
A song that we'd practiced while sitting on the gentle slope of a roof just outside the most adorable balcony, Brian with the guitar and me holding my cat Betty. We'd sung; "you can cry on my shoulder, and when the mirror tells us we're older, I will hold you and I will be here" until it had very quickly deteriorated into "crying on my boulder"... and more variations of the same.
But on the particular day, in the particular church, with the guitar grasped with some sincerity and no kitty in sight.... the pressure to sing strictly of shoulders, commitment and eternity made me squirm in my bustier.
Then Brian's voice, strong, beautiful, irrisistable- carrying bravely on:
And I will be here
To watch you grow in beauty
And tell you all the things you are to me
I will be here
That same beautiful voice has been with me all these years. All the nights when I cried on his shoulder. And the nights when I curled away from him- impossible miles away in a double bed. The voice that talked me into much riskier things than two minute duets. The voice that for times fell silent, discouraged, buried, exhausted.
At times we've entered back into that duet.
We've lost sight of love
turned the laughter into crying
and watched the sun disappear.
But Brian's voice has always grounded me.
Has always brought me home.
And the duet has carried us back the other verses of
being together, being here, and being true.
(Happy 18th Anniversary, cutie pie. Your voice has been my home for all these years. And if you need to, you can cry on my boulder any time.)
Thursday, July 15, 2010
It was around this time that I remembered the last time I'd been forced into the GMC. Brian was off at the Folk Fest in the Montana and I was at home trying to find my shoes and undergarments to transition into the real world and take in a family wedding. I wasn't confident enough to actually show up at the celebration in a rusted half ton, so ploughed out to my sister's estate (sans side view mirror) to catch a ride with her. After the nuptuals (an event worth a post or two, no.... possibly an entirely new blogspot......) we reconvened at her house for some cider and tears. (laughter induced).
Realizing that the regular world had to be back at the office the next morning, I grasped that it was probably high time I took my truck and me back home.
But I couldn't find the keys anywhere. (biggest loser.... blahdy blah....)
Lucky for me, the relatives had a spare key and hustled me out the door, into the night, and towards the country roads that would take me home.
Fast forward to suburban Winnipeg. When I rumbled into town, I wanted to be all savvy and metropolitan and lock that enviable ride up safe and sound against potential joy-riders.
Except that the spare key that my sister gave me was for the ignition and not for the locked door. Which left me up the proverbial creek without a paddle. Or conversely, on the suburban street without a key. Shy of busting off the rusty side panel, or slipping through the rusting floorboards, I was at the mercy of my munificent friend, who charitibly offered to drive me back to Hoo-Ville for that other magical key. Sort of like the key to the city, but way different.
It was around about this time that it dawned on me with some resounding finality that I was always going to work from home. That it would be in my best interest, and in the best interest of most people I love that I never, ever leave home again.
Meanwhile, Karla brought me to my sister's office so that I could get the proper set of keys and set the world back to rights. I thanked her profusely, leaned over to give her a good-bye hug and usher her into the new life that awaited her in another city far, far away.
Which is when she patiently reminded me that she would still need to drive me back to the city, with the key, to get back into my packing taped truck and return home again.
And I wonder why I never finished my University degree.
I further wondered why, and how I had friends. Except that people like to be made to feel useful. And benevolent. Which is what I do for people. By quick comparison, I make them look smart, and useful, and capable. Furthermore, I am willing to stay at home most of the time, and look after their children. Without a vehicle on the driveway.
So. If you know anyone who needs childcare, please don't forward them this post. I imagine that I'll be spending a lot of time at home this next year, having never finished my degree, and fulfilling the needs of people around me to feel useful and needed.
Furthermore, I will be alienating any vestiges of friendships that I have remaining in geographical locations outside of town limits.
Call it a preemptive strike. I'd prefer they not find out firsthand just what a commitment it is to have long distance relationships with the likes of me. Besides, I'll be busy working from home. Got some mechanical bills to pay.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Our beautiful firstborn daughter turned sweet sixteen!
Monday, July 05, 2010
Armed with little more than the essentials.... nutella and chips..... we headed off to Kenora, Ontario to celebrate Canada's birthday. After the fun of over nighting in a hotel, eating out, swimming, and lazing around, we headed for one of our favourite lakes.
(Doesn't hurt that my bro has a cabin upon it, and shares oh-so generously....)
That walking cast thrilled and amazed us all over again. No missing out on summer fun for our sweet water bug.