Marriage of life and beauty.

I have these ideas- I think I am married to them.

I am married to the hope that one day, I will have a nice garden.. and I can have my hair in a loose bun, and walk amongst the plants and pick flawless fruit.

I've takled about this before- When I was 19, I thought I could garden in this banana republic suede dress. Well, I think today, I am going to wear thick tights and garden in my dress.. and rubber boots-- just so I don't have to go through a divorce with my ideas of lolligag. My dad will say he needs a 1/2 inch socket.. and I will say "coming father..." and scamper off in my dress. How's that for marriage counseling.




Or there are other ideas. Like glass mason jars full of buttons and ribbons. And hard wood stumps as chairs.


Straw bales, gourds, sweater vests, bow ties, riding shoes, beautiful music, fantastic fellowship.

It comes down to a chicken with a really red comb.


A pretty little boy with blond curly hair.

A freshly dusted piano.

Letting go of these ideas would be like divorcing myself.

Maps and fancy aprons.

A love note on notebook paper.


Handwriting paper-- and fresh crayons.

The smell of WD-40


A slivered moon on a dewey morning.

An English Saddle and a slick ponytail.


The smell of burning leaves far off.


hot chocolate and soft kisses.


A crackling fire that smells like pine cones and orange rinds.

The songs you are hearing.


A chai with fresh black pepper.

A candy jar with candy that isn't stale.

Brown rice and succotash.

Yellow raisins instead.


Brown Sugar that is soft.
Peace.

A book full of mental pictures that make you sink into a chair.

A bubble bath that smells like lavender.

phesant feathers tied to a stick.

Corn dolls.
Brown eggs.



An orchid.

Sun dresses and ruffly panties.

A stranger with a log chain offering to help you get out of the ditch.

Riding bare back.

A thick egg salad sandwich wrapped in butcher paper and held together with a rubber band off of a broccoli bunch.



An old hymn in 4-part harmony.


Swiss chard.

Split pea soup without ham.

baby goats.



Popcorn balls wrapped in red christmas plastic wrap.

love.


I think of the first time Matt came to my house -- we hadn't kissed. We were sitting on my couch had a fire burning in the fire place and were nervously pretending --looking at maps.


I think everyone has these mental things that are nice. Things that the like and remember.

For me, it is the Sabbath afternoon with Denny Drummer and my dad fast asleep on our old living room floor in front of the windows... and getting all muddy. Have you ever lost your boots in a mud puddle?

Burs stuck in your new sweat pants, sitting on a hill picking them off.

Sneaking pizza into a movie theater-- as though it is a crime.


We all have these ideas of peace, contentment and joy. Some are revolved around simple memories that we devote our lives to recreating. Others to placement and direction.

Some are revolved around purpose and discipline and accomplishing difficult tasks.

But what if you spend your life with someone whose ideas of happy are completely different than yours? They see money as success, you see beauty as success, she wants a nice car, you want to go on a trip, he laughs at knock knock jokes, she reads the New Yorker. What if the person you spend your time with doesn't like watching a bonfire or the branches of a willow tree move in the wind. What if you love to salsa, and she likes to sit and act bored. What if you were pretending to like pick up trucks and you get yourself into a whole mess when you are living on a farm and you hate dirt.

I'd say marrying your ideas of happiness are about as important as it gets. Because if you cheat on yourself with the person you are with-- won't you then always be a cheater? Because you know "if they do it with you, they'll do it to you.." I think it can be applied to cheating on yourself. ... you'll never be happy.

Do you follow? It's ok to say "no."

I've always wanted to live in an apartment in China Town in New York City
... maybe I'd hate it.