The Love Train
I just finished watching The Bachelor (on abc.com--these days it doesn't matter if you don't have tv. everything is online). And now I'm telling O'lover how i'd go about GETTING THE ROSE if he were the bachelor.

First of all, i would wear 100% silk--dyed a pale rose tan from red onions and chamomile tea. i wouldn't bother combing my hair or using product. (So far most of the other girls are disqualified because of O'lover's immediate detection of things such as nylon, rayon, and other synthetic fibers that he opposes.)

Then i would trash the place because come on it's just a set and everything is fake right? And out of my silk handbag i'd produce my glue and while the rest of the girls get tipsy or drunk, i would thank my lucky stars i was raised mormon and don't drink cause one sip and i'm an alcoholic singing made-up lullabies in a perfect stranger's ear, i just know it. and as a contender i have a strategy--which includes saving the lullabies for later.

And then the ripping begins and the embellishing, the piecing, the texturizing. THE FLURRY OF ARTISTIC ACTIVITY. O'lover is most impressed that i pause periodically to smile deliciously because come on baby you know what i'm doing...

"What else would i do to attract you honey?!" I just shouted to Oliver who is now in the kitchen breaking up a noisy cat/dog fight. "Wear green?" he just shouted back. Hmmmm. that worked in real life....but no, "I'm already wearing rose".

So back to the mansion. My only real competition is this clever girl who'd brought a can of spray paint:
I'd be really jealous but she always walks that way with a crick in her neck and bumping into furniture. Oliver likes someone who can be cuddly.

OH MY CORRUPTION!

i just realized i insulted bony-angular-girl so i could win MY lover's affection. SO UNCALLED FOR! okokokokokok. snap out of it. i don't have to be jealous or mean. Oliver is not the bachelor. we're already together.

OH GOOD.

i just finished watching "broken english" with parker posey.

which somehow uncapped me and all my fizz runneth over. spanish is my first language. i still remember moving to the states and feeling mute and like i'd never get it. and after all these years the kid inside continues being on strike & still upset about the relative infrequency of kissing and hair petting. because i had been used to it ALL THE TIME. things have changed. i've "over-adapted" and i barely pet anyone's head or play with anyone's hair unless i really can't help it (have you seen emily buhrley's hair?). i kiss people but only if i'm absolutely certain they won't mind. and i rarely read the dictionary to make sure i'm not missing out on something. but i remain hopelessly unable to hear my mom's supposedly heavy accent.

and last night O'lover and i roamed the streets for hours. we watched the moon play hide-and-seek behind the clouds and i remembered how much of my summer was spent indoors, with fluorescent lighting in an office with no windows. and how it seems that all the rules that we've created, all the restrictions about what success looks like, about what's expected from an adult, about how can you be in your mid-30s and be fine that you don't have children (And I am perfectly fine. because really my life is SWEET.) and on and on until i feel so reigned in that i can't breathe.

And as soon as our house is rentable we're outta here. to go where the rules are different and i might fall in love with being an adult again. and i know, i just know that upon my return i'll be seeing p-town with fresh eyes.

and fresh eyes are just what i need.

A few years ago Rye sent me a pic he took of a group of Cambodian midwives.

one quick glance into the crowd

...and there she was...

shiver-me-timbers & knock-me-over-with-a-twig if she isn't how i want to BE,
with her loving eyes, her capable hands.

WOOSH...up the chimney went my plans of being a finger-waving opinionated old lady.

and so i've cropped the pic to just her (by far the eldest of the women), printed it multiple times, sent it to friends, gave copies to the church girls, and now keep "Oshurah" (my name for her) in my basket of inspirations.

i wonder about her life experience, her BEAUTY...and who she really is.

Brrrrr....it's chilly and we're acclimating cold turkey. We've always turned our heater on in September. But this year...one of us (please say it wasn't me!) decided we'd be bad ass enough to forgo this modern convenience (until October). And for my niece and nephew, who remember exactly what page there was a mild swear word in Harry Potter, remember that your Auntie Quellie's icy fingers DEMAND a curse. Your pops will explain.

Onto a warmer topic...one of the perks of being married to the lover is a daily update on what the stars and moon are up to, play by play. And some of it is sinking in. For the next couple of days while the moon grows full Demeter mournfully bids farewell to her daughter Persephone who rejoins the dark handsome Hades in the underworld.

I too must say goodbye. To the hot weather that is, and to the brazilian hammocks which provided comfort all summer long.

O'lover, it's going to take A LOT of your hot chocolate to get me through this winter.

p.s. i did a wheelie on that cute motorcycle today. it was mostly intentional...

seems like forever ago
now that i'm in bed
with two heavy duty comforters providing a foot of downy loft
with icarus nobel, my prized cat, pressing her paws in my ear
and a heavy breathing husband deservedly sleeping soundly by my side

but today i learned how to ride a motorcycle.

after a lifetime of being a very willing passenger it's nice to be able to DRIVE.

thanks reo, for the lesson, and for offering me the bullet bike next. =)

223 West Center Street
At approximately 10:30 this frigid a.m. after more than a year of discussing, arranging, and planning, a hawaiian themed mural in a sorry state of disrepair was forever covered by a Jenni Christensen mosaic.
Sigh of relief!
Keith from Metal Arts Foundry, Jenni, and Day Christensen.

We're cold but very happy.

Jenni, thank you for imprinting Provo with your massive talent. We're so fortunate!

the nights are now longer than the days

i observed the autumnal equinox...

...by watching King of the Hill at the home despot. i wish bobby were my kid i really do. i'd be so proud.
later the gents worked on our lighting. i can't stop flicking light switches in utter amazement. flick- off...flick-on...flick off...blessed be.
liz and I (mostly liz) made hot apple cider in the fort. she added bengal spice tea to the brew. beyond wow. raw melissa brought her kids over for a bonfire and told us about a local giant fir tree that we gotta visit. (btw, melissa makes the rockinest coconut macaroons. o'lover and i have been buying her raw lime and chocolate tortes for our friends' birthdays for a long time.) and then...

after the reo and ollie fire side concert...the torrential rain that doused our party...a long bath...

O'lover brought me a steaming cup of his famous elixir,
hot chocolate made from scratch.
hot chocolate with a voice
and as we sipped it mindfully,
it whispered...
promises of a comfortable autumn and winter...
and someday not too soon and not to far away...spring.