IS LOVE JUST ANOTHER FOUR LETTER WORD?

I could probably write a whole dissertation on the unfairness of love, but I won't. I could rant on about how many mistakes we all make in relationships. I'll let that slide, also. What I discovered or should I say rediscovered is that some love doesn't fade. It smolders unnoticed and unattended and then it takes only a word...a thought...a touch to ignite the fire that once was. That realization made me both happy and sad. When something is right, it remains right. It withstands the horrible disappointments and remains honest and open regardless of past scars. There is no fear in letting the person know how you feel even at the risk of those feelings being unreciprocated. Love is brave and foolhardy all in the same moment. 

Imagine a tree reaching upward towards the sky...arms open...strong and ready to embrace any of the sky's unpredictability and to weather any storm. Limbs break, leaves fall, yet the tree still stuggles to live and grow. There's a quiet place deep inside that harbors that special love against the unfairness and mistakes. It sits patiently awaiting... believing in love itself. That place transcends the obstacles and sometimes in a few rare cases where the people are bold enough to take a chance and to make their dreams into reality, they seek the love that safely lives in the shadows. 

They fearlessly bring it out into the sunlight together. Then it no longer exists only in dreams or in the stillness of all the 4 a.m.'s spent alone remembering, hungering for a touch that once made each day filled with passion and laughter. Something inside me awakened as it has in the past. It smiled and my eyes twinkled for a moment before it retreated back into the safety of the darkness within my cave.

*Repost from March 31, 2010

Quarantined Day #4

Somehow I get the feeling that I'll be waiting a little bit longer than 4 or 5 days to get my results back and then from what I've been hearing on the news not all tests are reliable. Just another thing that isn't Trump's fault, of course! He does no wrong! All I know is that I feel fine today and I'll take it one day at a time if I have to. I'm cool with that. So how are all of  you coping with this shit show?

Last night I did a grocery order (note to self - don't make a grocery order again while you're stoned.) Naturally, they were still out of a lot of stuff, but I had to opt to have it delivered since still I'm quarantined.  I think I'm beginning to know what a leper felt like.

I went outside today with good intentions of taking down the two small trees that need to come down so my pear tree will grow fully in all directions. Right now it leans one way because it get practically no sun in one direction. Besides being lop-sided it also needs a partridge because it's a pear tree. You don't know how many stores I've been in around Christmas thinking I'd find a partridge...just one partridge....a small partridge, so I can put it in my pear tree, but no! So tell me why there's a dumb Christmas song about a partridge in a pear tree if you can't find a partridge anywhere at Christmastime? You can find doves. You can find swans. You can find ducks. You can find cardinals. You can find owls. You can find any other kind of bird at Christmas, but you can't find one of the birds mentioned in the 12 days of Christmas. And when I ask a sales rep for a partridge they look at me like I'm asking her to perform a sex act with a French hen. Oh la la!

So instead of taking down two small trees, I took a picture of a tree about 50 feet away from where I was standing.  I'm easily distracted, aren't I? Just think about all the homes that this one tree provides. It's like Avatar without big blue creatures running around unless they run around at night. Hey, maybe that's what my dogs bark at and it's not at the squirrels after all. This tree is in Mad Mad Martha and her Digging Dog, Digger's yard next-door to me...shhhhhhhhh don't tell her I took the picture or she might hex me and make my pear tree grow funny or something :) Whoops, I guess that already happened. I need to learn to behave myself...maybe in my next lifetime??

The other picture is of my finger because it hurts and I really need someone to say "oh, poor baby"... no really, it's been swollen for days. Both joints are sore and when I put the coffee table together yesterday I said lots of bad language. Autoimmune disorders are hard. Especially ones that doctors leave undiagnosed. Oh well! I guess it could be worse. Gripping the screwdriver was a challenge, but I mastered the challenge because I'm a tough Maine woman! We're made of hardy stock.

I made my mother laugh when I purposely said things her father/ my grandfather used to say while I assembled the coffee table like..."you, son of a whore." That was always one of his favorite sayings and believe it or not when you cuss at a stuck wood screw that won't go in, I don't know what it is about it, but all of a sudden it breaks free and the screw screws right in after it's properly cussed at a few times. Okay, that's my lesson on fixing stuff today. Just remember, Mildred says if you're having a difficult time with something, a little colorful language will go a long way to remedy the situation.