*cue violins* Today marks one week since I entered this intimate relationship, yet it seems like we’ve been together much longer. How can something outside oneself become part of the very fabric of one’s being in such a short time? Ah, but therein lies the power of microbial persuasion. To tell you the truth, I […]
happy settimanaliversary to me! Read More »
Last week George sat at the dining room table and created a black-ink-and-colored-pencil birthday card for his mom. When I glanced over his shoulder at the lettering and layout, a whole herd of good memories stampeded through my brain. Way back when, George used to draw and paint a lot. Mostly ink and watercolor or
Today after church I gathered music charts from the various stands and joined George, who stood talking with one of the elders. George turned to me and grinned. “I just volunteered you for something this afternoon.” “Oh, really? What’s that?” The elder also smiled. “I can’t reach the guy who said he’d hold a worship
George commutes between home and the university. He stays at my sister’s house several nights a week, because it’s only blocks from his lab and allows him to start early and work late. We’ve been married for more than twenty-six years. After that much time a relationship can become like a favorite pair of jeans.
So, this morning I’m sitting at the breakfast table, wearing my PJs (baggy, pink-and-grey plaid pants and grey tank top), sporting an interesting bed-head hair event, sipping my latte, and reading the paper. Of course, in order to be able to actually see the paper, I’m wearing my geek-version reading glasses. George’s voice interrupts my
“I Feel Pretty” reprise Read More »
This is an interesting place to live. Jacob is rocking out in the den, thanks to a Jars of Clay DVD. He can’t just watch a concert. He sings. He shouts. He stands. He claps or raises his hands. It’s an interactive, aerobic adventure. And then there’s George. My fashionisto. I chuckled when he walked
Of fashion, concerts, and chocolate dreams. Read More »
When he entered the kitchen this morning, I was on my knees wiping the floor with a wet paper towel. “What happened?” “Oh, I dropped that . . . thing . . . the dealie that the coffee goes into when you grind it. What would you call it?” He pointed. “This? It’s a habernaculum.”
Look that up in your Funk & Wagnalls Read More »
May is an interesting month for me. Sort of an emotional smorgasbord. I know what’s on the menu, but I still find myself surprised by the intensity of the flavors. May 5th is our anniversary. This year marked twenty-six years of marital monkeyshines. Get married, y’all. Then have a few kids. It’ll grow you up
George is a scientist, but he doesn’t think like one. Or, I should say, he doesn’t think like most people expect a scientist to think. He loves biology for its beauty. He sees the art in life. He sees the hand of the Artist behind it. George is a scientist, but he’s also a poet.
A couple of years ago I bought my first pair of reading glasses. At that point, I needed them only for the teensiest print. I tried on a variety of styles and selected a pair with somewhat-hefty, tortoise-shell frames–kind of artsy. Or so I thought when I picked them out. In the past year, my
I feel, er, pretty? Read More »