That’s How September Rolls
This morning I drove past my favorite bull in the misty morning field, and noticed a little calf with exactly the same coloring he has. I just had to smile. The slightest hint of autumn air whisked past me – I’d recognize this transition even if I weren’t conscious of the coming season change. I don’t mind autumn, really I don’t – I think of it as an end-of-summer reward at it’s best. At last, we will have bearable temperatures, cool nights, and gorgeous colors everywhere. I can even go hiking again. I’m just not fond of what comes next – bare trees, blustery cold mornings of devoting an extra fifteen minutes to defrost the car, the careful layering of our clothing to keep warm. I sleep about twice as much in the winter, hibernating like a bear. A cute little mama bear, that is. 🙂
Lucky for us, we have the current friendly neighborhood hurricane season to take our minds off those imminent winter days and nights! Oh, yay. Katia looks to be the next big boy coming our way. Incidentally, my daughter sails off from Tampa on Sunday for a seven-day cruise. She’ll be hitting some optimal ports – Cozumel, Belize, Isla Roatan Honduras and Grand Caymen. Tonight we’re taking her out to dinner bon-voyage style at our favorite Japanese hibachi restaurant. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit nervous about the weather for her. I know it’s to be expected, though…
Because that’s how September rolls.
weather.com
Falling Chips
My mother and her husband finally got out of town for a couple of days. She’s had a rough Summer with her brother passing away recently from a terminal illness, add to that the fact they haven’t been anywhere in years. Everyone deserves a vacation every now and then, and it’s been way too long for them.
Our family has this unique ability of finding humor in our own self, and Mom is no exception. The kind of laughter I heard from her yesterday was priceless, it’s the kind of laughter I haven’t heard in a long time. Mammaw was terrific at it too, and Mom is definitely a chip off the ole’ block! She was laughing so hard I couldn’t even understand her (no alcohol involved). Of course she couldn’t leave her husband out of the ‘roast’, so he got included too. 🙂
The complicated directions they were given to their room in the casino hotel made me think of the Griswold’s Vegas Vacation. There’s my sick sense of humor – I usually think of a movie to compare things to. Now, if Mom comes home with Wayne Newton on her arm I’m gonna have to give her a lecture.
Setting Stages
Have you ever wished for something, and over time found yourself subliminally ‘padding the way’ for it to happen? Not necessarily ‘making it happen’ or ‘helping it out’ – but perhaps making it ‘easier to occur’?
Setting the stage, so to speak.
It has recently come to my attention that I may be unintentionally doing this. Once I realized it for what it really was, I was disappointed in myself. The sheer anticipation of certain hopes and dreams somehow warped my brain into thinking that I need to provide my assistance or guidance in order for them to happen.
Go out and grab life by the horns, Bon. Seize the world – it’s yours. Make your own destiny. It’s never too late to be what you might have been. I heard it all. And I listened.
After twenty-three years of marriage I was the proud owner of a can’t-think-for-myself brain. Once I finally met and became acquainted with ME 1.0, I convinced myself I had to become a strong individual and maintain control and direction. I’m still (slowly) learning that exercising that ‘control’ does not and should not apply to every single thing in life. Some things need to occur naturally if they are to occur – and over time. Unwittingly setting the stage isn’t always appropriate.
Certain dreams and aspirations I have will either come true or they won’t. I have to come to the realization that some things in life just do not need my assistance.
The Sands SkyPark
Learning about new structural masterpieces never cease to amaze and intrigue me. I’ve written about the Burj Dubai, the Grand Canyon Skywalk and the Swiss AlspiX – I really enjoy writing about these ‘wonders’ because a) it forces me to learn more about them by exploring the facts, and b) it’s not likely I’ll ever get to visit them in person. I find it ironic that all these places have one thing in common – extreme height. With heights being my main hang-up, it’s probably fair to say it’s the biggest source of my intrigue.
The top SkyPark of Marina Bay Sands Hotel in Singapore made it’s official debut on June 24, 2010. The cantilever is positioned atop three 57-story sloping towers which are connected at level 23, and stretches longer lengthwise than the Eiffel Tower is tall. This structure houses a hotel, casino, restaurants, stores, art gallery, pool, ice skating rink, gardens, and much more all rolled up into one tropical oasis. The top SkyPark can accommodate roughly 3,900 people, and is one of the largest art commissions ever completed as part of an integrated architectural process.
Ah, the marvels of engineering. I’ll let the pictures, courtesy Marina Bay Sands Hotel Singapore, have the final word.
FD Marathon
The movie Final Destination 5 is out and I’m dying to see it. Friday I found out that Keith not only hasn’t seen 3 or 4 (the usual average missed in a series of movies) but he has yet to see any of them. I can now report we officially have a Final Destination edumacation – that is, except for the new and improved #5. Full-screen trailer can be seen here.
For those who don’t know what the movies are about, each starts something like this. One person within a group has a vision of something catastrophic that’s about to happen. This ‘vision’ of impending doom shakes the person up, causing them to freak out and immediately abandon whatever it is they’re doing. A small group of people also follow his/her lead, thereby saving their own lives when that vision actually comes to life a few minutes later. Thing is, this whole new series of events screws up what they call ‘death’s design’ – so one by one, each person of that group meets their fate in some freak accident. And, they die in the same pecking order as they would have had they not exited their original… final destination.
I haven’t watched this much tube in like five years or more – my eyes hurt. FD1 Friday night, FD2 Saturday morning, FD3 Saturday night and the FD4 Sunday afternoon. Any Final Destination trivia can be thrown this way, please.
In an endeavor to keep my very own final destination at least an arm’s length distance or better, I’ve learned a few things not to do…
- Never, under any circumstance, should you stand anywhere near a barbed wire fence.
- When boarding your local roller coaster, think twice about actually belting yourself in.
- Always look both ways before crossing the street. Twice. Three times, even better.
- When entering a tanning bed, never pull it all the way closed.
- If you ever go visit Paris, make sure you’re not on Flight 180. In fact, if you see those three numbers listed anywhere near you in that particular order – run, don’t walk.
- When swimming in a public pool, it may actually benefit you to wear your swimmies.
- Avoid nail guns at all costs. Hammers still do the job well, with a little more effort involved.
- A fire escape may not serve as an actual escape.
- If your car has had electrical problems in the past – you may want to avoid car washes.
- Never ever enter an elevator with someone who is holding a box of prosthetic hooks.
- Duct tape has an endless variety of uses – including safeguarding your house.
- If a pigeon continually crashes into your dentist’s office window – leave immediately and find another dentist.
- It’s not a bad thing to pay attention to to your visions and inner voices. Just don’t let it drive you crazy…
Name That Place
Since the ole’ anniversary’s over with now, guess I can spill the beans about what I got Keith. Pack up the kids – we’re goin’ to Biltmore! (just kidding about the kid part.)
Yep, I said we.
This was my present to him, two tickets to The Biltmore House. I suppose it might sound a little self-serving (or a lot, depending on who you are)… but just what do you get a guy who’s got everything (including me)? 😀
I pondered what to get him for months. Here’s the lowdown on said conversation(s) with myself.
Me: Electronics? Guys always like electronics…
Inner Self: He’s already got everything. Besides, I’d need at least two grand or more to impress him in that area.
Me: Clothing? Maybe some fall wear?
Inner Self: I’ve gotten him apparel as a filler for every occasion for two years. He’s gotta be so sick of it by now.
Me: Jewelry?
Inner Self: C’mon Bon, really? What, a nice necklace (already has)… a bracelet (won’t wear one)… a watch (has five or more)… hey how ’bout a ring?? (Smacks self in forehead) Now what kind of an impression would that lead to? Talk about self-serving…
Enter ‘trip’ thoughts.
Me: Beach?
Inner Self: We were planning that anyway.
Que the Biltmore House. We’d talked about going there but had never made any final plans. Not only is it expensive – but devoting one lone day to seeing everything just isn’t going to cut it. At least eight full hours are needed there, maybe more for the winery and gardens – and it’s about a 2 1/2-hour trip one way. So an overnight stay would definitely be in order.
Neither of us have ever been before – I’d never have considered it if he had. Two native Carolinians who’ve never been to Biltmore usually make for interesting conversations with some of the older locals. Whenever we feel like pushing it a step further so as to to appear sheltered, we’ll throw in the fact that neither of us have ever been to Charleston, either.
The poor babes, they really do need to get out more. These places have been around since the arc.
It’s probably the closest we’ll ever come to being in a castle. I’m ready to be mesmerized and enchanted…
My Favorite Cow is a Bull
For the past few months, I’ve admired a certain cow during my drive in to work. There she stood each day, huddled with her comrades in a misty morning field. I’d often see her in groups ‘kissing’ with some of the others. Now I didn’t know if they were actually kissing or not – but the Bon in me just wanted to believe this was a cow’s way of being cute and sweet.
I’ve always been a sucker for odd markings (take my cat for example) and this cow’s markings definitely fell into the unusual category. Dark legs complimented her cream-colored base, and thick black rings accentuated her huge eyes. She really stood out from all the others, and I found myself searching her out each time I came up on that field.
On the way home from work last Friday, ‘my’ cow was standing all by herself roadside at the fence. I did a three-point road turn and positioned myself right smack in front of her…
…errrrr… HIM.
In retrospect I guess I should’ve known it was a he, but this city girl hasn’t been around many bulls and cows in her life. I’ll also stand by my defense of having not seen him up close until Friday. Thirdly, I didn’t think bulls were allowed to mingle freely with the cows… I mean, do these girls get any rest? I don’t mean to be crude, but this has to coincide with at least some of the more intense mooing I hear coming from that field around dusk each night.
As soon as I reached him and stopped, I immediately noted the large horns upon his head. This majestic creature stood there and subliminally yelled out to me “I am MAN, hear me roar” then snorted a mild “hummfff”. As I sat in my car with him and I separated by a mere fifteen feet and five pieces of wire – it suddenly struck me that I might need to grow a brain and moooove along…
Well… after I squeeze in a small photo opp, of course. Isn’t he beautiful handsome??
MY Bucket List
If any of you out there would like to do this – I’d love to read yours!!
‘Every man dies. Not every man really lives.’ ~William Ross
- Cage-diving with great white sharks. Though I prefer great whites off the coast of South Africa – any shark over 12 ft. in any ocean will do. Second choice of sharks would be bulls or tigers.
- Swim in a clear blue sea. This could be anywhere from the Caribbean to the Keys. As long as it’s clear and blue.
Experience what it’s like to be proposed to.- Write a book. One that gets published – even better.
- Zip-line somewhere in or near a tropical setting.
- Witness a media shower.
- Wear a wedding dress.
- Swim with dolphins. Not just coexist in the water together – I want to touch them, let them pull me around, and give them kisses. 🙂
- Own my own boat. Not a yacht or anything – just one that could tote 8-10 people around comfortably.
- Learn to Salsa Dance… well.
- Learn to surf. Five full seconds atop a wave would make me uber-happy.
- Have Gary LeVox and the band of Rascal Flatts sing live to me.
- Get my passport. When I finally win that trip around the world I’d like to be able to actually go, after all.
- Go sailing. Real sailing. On a real moving sailboat.
- Get a tattoo of a butterfly. And I can stop at one. At least I think I can.
- Possess a concealed carry permit. Along with my piece.
- Revisit my birthplace, Muenchweiler, Germany.
(Footnote: I have no qualms about combo-packaging numbers 11, 8, 5, 2 and 1.)
Bucket Lists
We’ve all heard about them. Famous people have written them; a Hollywood movie was even filmed about them. Just for the fun of it, I started out to write my own. Something that just wasn’t meant to happen today.
Whenever I hear of a bucket list, I always think about my precious grandma. She didn’t have a list that we knew of, at least not a written one. But everyone who knew Mammaw was well aware of the one thing she wanted to do before she kicked the bucket (her words). She wanted to travel out west in an RV – through the big state of Texas right on into Arizona. Just her, us, and the open road. She had a deep passion for growing cactus, and all the varying species she grew here in North Carolina thrived. One day she had hoped to stand beside those big cactuses in Arizona.
On Christmas Day one year, her son got her what he thought to be the most hilarious gag gift. He brought her outside to find a surprise toy Winnebago ‘parked’ in the driveway behind her little Toyota Corolla. Ill-timed? Probably. I’ll be the first to admit that my Mammaw was the Queen of jokes and pranks – but I never will forget that twinge of disappointment she attempted to hide behind those deep brown eyes that day.
Through the years, she dearly loved the other toy replicas that were given to her as interim gifts. On a table in her living room, she proudly displayed her 2ft. wide intricate wood-carved covered wagon. It ended up surrounded with some of her authentic cactus and given a complete family, which she dressed up in era-appropriate western garb and bonnets.
She really yearned for that trip, but never got it. Looking back now, I’d do anything to have made that trip happen for her.
If Mammaw had had a bucket list, I know this trip would have appeared at the top. Not that writing your wants down necessarily makes them happen. I’ll go a step further to say the trip would’ve been the only thing on her list…
Kumbaya, Sweet Slumber
The ghosts of the past who appear in my recent dreams are starting to wear me down. Saturday and Sunday nights were both restless; when sleep did come it was packed full of crappy dreams. Weird, emotional, gross, sad, useless – all of it. In dire need of sleep, I retired early again last night. Once more, the ghosts of times past infiltrated my dreams. None of these entities have a current role in our lives, so I just couldn’t imagine a reason for them being in the dreams.
It’s not like me to have repetitive dreams of a undesirable nature, but I believe I’ve at least figured out the cause of them. As of recent, I’ve been putting more thought into the future than ever before. Sometimes when you contemplate the future you inadvertently propel yourself into the past – whether or not you want to. Your subconscious thoughts can and will manifest into your dreams. The fine line between fantasy and reality has never been a difficult thing for me to discern. That said, I now find a slice of my reality being spent fighting demons ensued by the dreams that decide to hang around and poke me with a stick the next day.
- ©Disney
A long time ago I was asked, ‘Which would you prefer? The devil you know, or the devil you don’t know?’. My answer was ‘The devil I know’. Somehow I have to figure out how to not pick both.
Sunflower Fields Forever
This field is located about a mile down from the house. Being that I took the picture about 3 weeks ago, unfortunately the poor flowers have now either passed their prime or are severely drought-stricken. The picture was inspiration for my ever-amateurish little poem, which I write very few of.
Sunflower Fields Forever
Tucked away from all the hype
and bustle of the town
there lies a field where there are only
sunflowers allowed.
Long necks stretch up ever-taught
Their heads gaze oh so high
In their attempt to say ‘hello there’
way up to the sky.
Simple, timeless is their beauty
of vibrancy and hue
Unknowingly an artists’ vision
Of canvas dreams come true.
They have one wish – to kiss the sun
This kiss shall set them free
It is, dear flower, after all
Where you’re supposed to be.
It’s not the first time we have met
In dreams I’ve seen you here
Soon in this field you’ll rest your heads
‘Til next you reappear.
~Life of Bon, 2011
Chillin’ on a Dirt Road, Pt. 2
A while back I posted a vid of one of my current song faves – Jason Aldean’s “Dirt Road Anthem”. I just noticed today they removed the embedding ability for musical copyright issues. While searching for a replacement, I ran across a GEM of a piece that I just had to share…
It’s not the entire song, but enough for you to form an opinion whether or not you like it. My props go out to them for the entire arrangement – that’s really a truck they’re in, too. Wish it was longer, but I still think these guys deserve a viral on youtube. Check out 1 minute 14 seconds of AWESOME.
Two Years
On August 1st, Keith and I will have been joined at the hip for two years. It’s hard for me to believe. It’s been the quickest two years of my life.
Being as how I wrote about it in length last August, I’ll just reiterate the fact that I’m happy beyond words and leave it at that. If you have any desire to hear me gush on about it, you can read last year’s post.
I just bought his anniversary present today. Wish I could say what it is in this post – but on the off-chance of him reading this, I’d be screwed (I’ll be sure to fill ya in later). I hope he likes it.
It really is the little things in life that count. Like being together and making memories. Experiencing the overwhelming feeling of complete love and trust. Just being happy. Actually, I consider being happy a huge thing…
Spickets
Houston, we have a problem.
©arkadiapest.com
Lions and Tigers and Jumping Spiders, OH MY
We have spickets in the house. What’s a spicket, you ask? A spicket is a horribly gianormous mutation that obviously occurred during the time a spider was holding a cricket captive and decided the cricket looked, uh, nice that day. It resembles a wolf spider, has two extra long antennae, a lengthy tail, and possesses the ability to jump higher than a cricket. Like straight up. At face-level. Seriously. I have also learned they do so purposely as an intimidation tactic.
This bug is actually trying to scare me. It THINKS. It’s the kind of stuff my nightmares are made of.
Early this morning, Keith finally got to hear what his girlfriend sounds like when she screams. Loudly. It wasn’t pretty.
From what I’ve read, nobody likes them (everybody hates them, I think I’ll eat a worm… fat ones, skinny ones, even little bitty ones – see how they wiggle and squirm…)
They’re fast. Like Edward Cullen fast. I assume this is because (yes, I know what assuming does) they realize just how bad they look. I’d be willing to bet these babies would turn to stone just by seeing their reflection in a mirror.
JUST. NASTY.
I made a new Kill this morning, the second one within 24 hours. This morning’s Kill was about the size of a silver dollar. A bug should not be the size of a silver dollar. It’s just not natural. If you are able to catch up to one, it’s a gross Kill since they’re quite meaty – their upper thighs resemble those of a bodybuilder.
Afterwards I went into the bedroom where Keith was sitting straight up in bed. At this point I wouldn’t have been more surprised if his head had spun around in Linda Blair fashion. “We’ve got jumping spiders” I said. “We can’t do this. We just can’t.” (Note the “We”, as in Us, as in No Us if They stay.) Of course I didn’t come right out and say that it was either me or the spickets – I think I made a point without saying anything like that. “I’ll stop on the way home and get some stuff” he said. I locked eyes with him and held the glare for what seemed like 60 seconds but was probably only about 10. I really do think he understood me, he’s just good like that.
He also kept any witty comments he might’ve had about my sheet-white face locked up tight in his little bag of tricks. To be pulled out at a more opportune time, I’m sure. Like maybe at the next family reunion.
Enter Google. Old faithful, trusty, reliable Google. I heart Google.
Results = Camel Cricket or Cave Cricket, they’re one in the same. Oh good! So now I can replace the slang name ‘jumping spiders’ I’ve given them all my life with better terminology. Cave cricket – let’s see, what else lives in a cave? Bats. Spiders. Snakes. Bears. Monsters. The Unknown. Any insect that lives in a cave, well who the heck knows what they do in the dark? I also read they are people-intimidators. YA THINK?
http://www.asktheexterminator.com/Crickets/Cave_Crickets.shtml
The Positive Pool
I yearn to get back to writing about positive things, at least for the most part. It’s not like me to take a dip in the negative pool and decide to hang out in there awhile. The fact is – a lot has happened over the past several weeks that makes me question the intentions of certain individuals, as well as life in general. I plan to give my best shot at moving past it all. There’s really no other choice – I simply have to.
Once again, the ocean makes it’s seraphim call to me; the mountains cry out for my mother. Any extended travel plans have been postponed throughout the summer months, which of course we wouldn’t have had any other way. Soon I plan to answer that call from the sea, and I hope my mother will be able to do the same. She so deserves to get away.
As hot as it is, I still find myself wishing for the summer never to end. The linger of warm sweet nights help fill my dreams; the sweet smells of all things living permeate my senses. Summer is so easy. Less clothes, easier to dress – pleasant weather, easier to travel –just easy. Please hang around a little while longer, summer…
Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days, and you can become drunk with the belief that all’s right with the world. ~Ada Louise Huxtable
- city-data.com
- activerain.com
Another day in the life
I read an interesting post this morning written by someone dear. It has everything to do with assumption and its repercussions.
Nagging little mosquitos continue to swarm around, hoping for a good meal.
Assuming something that’s not been proven fact can get you into trouble. When coupled with unfounded accusations, even bigger trouble. Best to stay away from both.
In logic, an assumption is a proposition that is taken for granted, as if it were true based upon presupposition without preponderance of the facts. (Wikipedia)
Presume. Speculate. I was just a bit surprised to find (Dictionary.com) the word arrogance as an important integer in the definition of assumption… imagine that.
(Urban Dictionary) coins the phrase we’ve heard for just about our entire existence. Assume = to make an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’. For instance, it is sometimes spelled as ASSume, to emphasize the importance of the word “ass” in the equation.
We should also remember that assumption can foolishly lead a person astray from the ‘real’ path they should have been following to begin with.
Just another day in the life – here’s to better days ahead.
A Little Town Called Urbanna
Ever have a place you’ve visited just stick with you – certain sights and events bringing the place fresh back into focus? As I crossed the sunrise-laden bridge this morning, I was reminded again of a visit a couple of years ago to a little portside town in Virginia – to a little town called Urbanna.
I think about this place every time I see a sunrise. I think about it every time I pass over the river on the way to work. I think about it most every time I lay my eyes on a boat. Sometimes I consider this a burden and wish it to be lifted from me; to regain the ability of forming my own thoughts and memories from such sights. It doesn’t seem meant to be, though – and this morning was no exception.
Urbanna is located on Virginia’s middle peninsula on the Rappahannock River, which eventually spills into the beautiful and majestic Chesapeake Bay. This historic town was originally established as a port for the shipment of tobacco to England. The old tobacco warehouse built in 1766 is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and serves today as the Visitors Center. This warehouse is located on Virginia Street, which ironically enough is one of my favorite streets there.
The town itself is as friendly as the day is long, and the locals seem to go out of their way to please you. They are proud of their towns history and the fact that aside from the annual Oyster Festival which attracts 70,000 each November, Urbanna is still able to maintain that hometown feel. As you walk through town, it’s almost as though nothing at all has changed since the fifties. The in-town drugstore still has a fully-operational diner inside, complete with swivel-seat barstools. Even the streets seem to want to tell you their story as you stroll down them.
X marks my approximate anchor location on Urbanna Creek. ©Google Images
I learned being rocked to sleep by the waves is one of my most favorite things, as well as waking up the next morning to the sunrise over the water. I ended up adapting to that little sailboat so quickly it about made my own head spin. Within a day I’d perfected my way around atop and below the boat – finding out exactly what I could hang onto and what I couldn’t, and what I could swing from and what I couldn’t. 🙂
I was sad to learn of the vineyard I visited closing down in 2010, White Fences Winery and Vineyards. What a nice drive over the bridge where you can see the Rappahannock River merging with the Chesapeake Bay. Unlike some local wineries, White Fences had acres and acres of vineyards to walk. The massive greenery would hold your imagination captive for as long as you would allow it.
The town slogan, as it appears on main page of their very well-put-together website:
“Turn off the main road. Or cruise up the Rappahannock River from the Chesapeake Bay. To the slightly off the beaten track tidewater town of Urbanna,Virginia. Home of Virginia’s official oyster festival, more boats than folks and laid back innkeepers, shopkeepers, chefs and townspeople who’ll help you shuck your stress and slip into an island state of mind.”
Yep… in this case, I’d say the city slogan fits quite well.
In the distance where the sun is hitting, Rappahannock River dances with Chesapeake Bay
Monovision
I don’t usually wear my glasses except to watch tv, I simply find them to be a pain. Wednesday I got contacts. My vision is a bit unusual, at least to me it is. Most people I talk to can’t see up close. My close-up vision is great, it’s distance that’s been a problem for me for a while. The ability to drive down the road and actually see street signs, names of buildings and leaves on the trees – it’s almost as though I’ve been given a new gift.
The eye doctor suggested monovision. Since I don’t require any close-up correction (yet) this consists of wearing only one contact that treats my primary eye for distance, while the other eye remains contact-less to maintain the close-up vision. Not only could I not comprehend the sense in this, I felt like I couldn’t I didn’t want to do it. I ended up wearing both contacts and life seemed grand – until I looked down at my phone. I couldn’t see a thing, even to return a text!
Long story short, I’ve been forced into monovision. They tell me it’ll take 2-3 weeks for my eyes to adjust and start playing together nicely again. I really hope this happens soon, because right now I’m struggling to focus on anything. In my line of work seeing up close is a must, and I refuse to go buy a pair of readers. I feel that’s contradictory to my reasoning for contacts – I want to ditch the glasses.
Even though I understand the concept, just wearing one contact makes me feel like I’m only doing half a job – or like I’m incomplete. It’s a weird feeling!
The Word
Since my separation and divorce, the word has never passed my lips with regard to myself. I just don’t believe a woman should the first one to speak it, and I have my own personal reasons for feeling that way.
Marriage.
A long long time ago, I did utter it and lived to regret it. I became a prisoner of the word; listening intently to expressions of regret for the next twenty-plus years. ‘The whole thing was your idea”, I was told. Other times, “Your mother might as well have held the shotgun”. Great – my own little shotgun marriage, standing in front of a judge in a courthouse on that hot August day. How lovely. How endearing. How very valued those words made me feel.
In some ways, I think being made aware of this bitter regret only served to make me stronger. I’ve come to the realization the path to real love and commitment will never be found on a one-way street. That the word compromise actually exists for non-selfish reasons. That the amazing feeling of total and complete trust creates an airtight bond that is impenetrable.
I won’t even go so far as to throw out a hint. As far as writing about it, I’m not really concerned with who reads this. I know K doesn’t read my blog – he reminded me of that little factoid just last week. Besides, as dear old Dr. Suess once said…
Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.
Life of Bon 
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