If you don’t think every day is a good day, just try missing one.
~~ Cavett Robert
I hope everyone that is reading this is having a good day. And if you are not, just know that in every new minute that passes you have an opportunity to change that.
~~ Gillian Anderson
What a lovely day. What a wonderful day. What a powerful day….
The drive to Brookfield last night was pleasant and what was really nice was that I needed to talk. I needed to talk about my books and stories and possible submissions and plot holes and idea and make-sures that this worked and get help with what wasn’t working and….
…R listened. Really listened and had good ideas and helped me a lot!
And we got here and the hot tub was drained, there is probably a very small leak, and we filled it and turned it on and it takes a good twenty-four hours to heat. We’re looking for a better way but it could mean hot tubing tonight!
We had a wonderful morning as well, running around—more strolling around if you can do that in a car—and doing some errands and getting a few things for the house and the food I can eat on this diet and fresh farmer’s market vegetables—zucchini and green onions and eggs! fresh eggs!—and more. Fresh peaches direct from Georgia and—oh oh oh oh—they are sooooo good! So sweet with just a little bit of tart. To live for!
We got the king-sized bed that R found at an auction down the street for like $125 (wow! What a price!) all set up (thank goodness—how have couples, let alone two men—ever sleep in a double bed???).
Fried up some zucchini (with Pam) and two fresh farm eggs (oh the spender of farm fresh eggs, as different from store bought as a little packet of ground pepper is from just ground peppercorns) and then I fried up a slicked peach with just a little bit of sweet tea and it was like cobbler without the crust and so incredibly sweet. And all on my diet. We’re grilling tonight.
I am writing and the story is going well and this peace and quite is so nice.
The best part though has just been being with R.
Over and over today I have looked over at him—while driving around town, helping me get my picture of the Brookfield water tower (there are two now!), setting up the bed, catching sight of him in another room, listening to him watch hokey 70s shows while he’s resting, standing in a doorway watching him sleep—and thinking, This is my husband. My husband. I am married. I am legally married to this man and, unless I really f*ck up somehow, I am most like to be with for the rest of my life. R isn’t going anywhere despite the fact that I am not the man he imagined he would settle down with when he finally came out of the closet. I’m not the macho, help-him-work-on-the-cars, fix-electric-stuff, roof-houses-kind of man. He loves with all his heart even if it is hard for him to say so and picking out sweet Valentine’s Day cars will always be as alien to him as stumbling over some ancient extraterrestrial ship in the earth and proving forever that life exists on other planets.
And we were married long before we flew to Baltimore last June and signed a piece of paper on the 30th. We were married when we walked up that aisle in a ceremony of our own concoction (we had Bible verses and a Buddhist reading and a Wiccan one and a Native American Prayer, and we jumped the sword as well as the broom and were even hand-fasted) in front of around two hundred of our friends.
Somehow I know that I will be a doddering old man with him as long as the Universe doesn’t have something else in mind.
It has been so powerful. I love him dearly despite the fact that he is not the man I imagined I would settle down with. He won’t go to church with me and rarely goes to movies with me and has only read one thing I’ve ever written and won’t go to the gay romance conventions with me and doesn’t like musicals and hates spending much on a meal, even a very special one, and worst of all pronounces “wash” as “warsh” and will forever-and-ever-amen even though it drives me insane.
I love him and he loves me and we take care of each other. That is what husbands do. Husband. Caretaker. Manager. Bounding house together.
I wouldn’t trade today for anything in the world.
I terms of my marriage, you know, falling in love with my husband was by far the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
~~ Caroline Kennedy