For a long time now, the hubster and I haven’t bought each other gifts. We’ve got the love of our dreams and the life we want, so it seemed unnecessary. Until. Until we bought this house and have been working almost every single day for thirteen weeks to fix it up. Knowing that we have about thirteen more. Having that giant dumpster in the back yard for more than two months, big time stinky smelly from a laborer tossing something other than construction waste in it, something oh-so FOUL. Hoping for favorable winds so we could open a window or take a break out back. Yeah, blech.

And then the realization that our birthdays are our FORTY-FIFTH! As a good friend said, halfway to ninety. Holy shit. So we bought a telescope for our mutual delight at star gazing and imagining what if? We looked at Jupiter Wednesday night and three of its moons, Mars, too, from our own, sweet smelling, dumpster-free yard. The wonders of the universe and height of splendor, peeps, the absolute height!

And because I don’t have the attachment for my camera, YET, I snapped photos of my yard gazing while the hubster’s eye was on the sky. Good times, happy nights, and more to come!

Be well…

 

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Time

Every single pleasure I can imagine or have experienced is more delightful, more of a pleasure, if you take it in small sips, if you take your time.

Amos Oz

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Freeze

Make your mistakes, take your chances, look silly, but keep going.

Don’t freeze up.

Thomas Wolfe

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We went to the library last night, returning a heavy bag of books, one of which, rather sadly, went unread because of a lack of time. Dorothy Parker, I may just have to buy your complete stories!

It rained, fiercely, sheets plummeting from the sky, with the whitest brightest flashes of thunderous lightning and little bits of hail littering the rooftops like snow. A genuine Colorado storm. When we lived in Portland, we sometimes lamented the fact that we never had what we thought as REAL thunder and lightning, having grown up with claps so powerful as to rattle the bowels and stun the ears. Pittsburgh had better thunder, the kind movie makers use to replicate the perfect summer storm, which was wonderful and I loved.

The poor neighborhood turkey ran fast and furious across the frame, shaken and stirred by hail and torrents of water. There’s the view from the library I’ve told you about, one to get lost in. And the mammatus clouds, hanging wild and heavy above. Eeek, how I love this place!

The two of us celebrated our anniversary, twenty-three years wed (huzzah!), with a very fancy dinner at The Broadmoor’s Penrose Room. I wore a beaded cardigan and a pearl ring that were once my Grandmother’s. He wore a jacket for the first time since New York city, circa 2004, when we saw A Raisin in the Sun. That time, I wore a snazzy dress and he wore the jacket, the pair of us alone and slightly defeated in a sea of shorts and t-shirts (this is not like Sex and the City!). Thankfully, our disappointment that we had so carefully carted such fancy duds from Portland to Manhattan was short lived because it was high summer, and beautiful, everything warm and aglow with night lights and neon. We strolled hand in hand back to SoHo and our rented apartment, everything New York quiet, the hush of a place that only nearly sleeps.

Friday night, not nearly as warm, but lovely still, with stunning views (oh my goodness, we live here!), was a bit of a dream. Every need considered, every taste bud tickled, amuse bouche, lobster bisque, lovely sweets, I even got a pillow for my back. We ate and giggled and laughed and ate and wondered and ate some more. We felt grateful, for all of our privilege, all that we have and can do.

Cut to my Sunday morning bath, the sharp contrast from Friday, me luxuriating in a tub without walls. Life is good!

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