Hello darling, up in the aerie, hope you're about the same, perhaps in that room you'd dreamed of, loft above the garage. That's how I'll picture you, dearest, reading my letter by lamplight, as in that lovely Georg Friedrich Kersting painting we both love.
In a mellow mood. Laundry is tumbling in the drier. A pan of sauteed-mushroom sauce, to be ladeled onto fettuccine and topped with parmesan, sits on the stove. I managed a workout, and a walk, but alas not the trifecta. I felt a little physically out of sorts today. And was so full of warm thought of you this morning, and synapses firing as to connections, that I put together this morning's post, an uncharacteristically prolonged sedentary start to my day, if for no other reason than finding the right images, and downloading them, and thinking how to link them -- it's all so very time-consuming. Still, I'm very glad I managed to put it together, the snapshot of what was going on in my mind, now those threads (hardly any of them mine really, not originally), woven together -- with thoughts of you.
I'm half looking forward to, half dreading next weekend. D and I supposedly are driving down. I say supposedly because we are a train wreck and had a big exhausting fight last night, reflective I suppose of the anxiety we both feel over the visit. I personally absolutely dread 'knowing' looks and improper, prying questions as to the state of my marriage. To which I have no good answer, and absolutely do not wish - on that day of all days - to lose my temper over impertinent queries and seemingly knowing saccharine looks. Oh aaarggh. Please dearest, wish me patience... I will do my best.
I have hardly been an angel the last few years
but I have a great deal of anger towards D
there was a time, a couple of Januarys, or maybe a February ago, that I packed a box of belongings and actually stood outside on the driveway because I thought someone might be coming for me
at that time - that person wasn't -- you
I still feel that I could in my own mind take flight at a moment's notice
(not that I wish to stick anyone with anything - I'd wish to be responsible in that regard)
but in other ways -- I have left the building
(as in, "the artist is present" --)
So I will not countenance any faux-caring queries as to my connubial state
though I expect you will forgive me and understand if I make light queries --
if only to read the press release (it's okay - & I want you to know it is okay - & I do have a mix of feelings surrounding the whole thing, and one of them is (one of the very, very many) -- oh wow, power to her, it's ok, 'welcome to the modern world,' and - listen girl, speaking as a 52-year old -- it's all ahead of you, still is, very much, you can have this life, and a reinvented one when she's your very age, when you're not even mine -- and you'll discover all kinds of things in yourself you never knew possible -- and -- well, I don't even know you but if I could give you a great big hug and my most heartfelt well-wishes, well then here they are -- you will do great, I know it, even if it wasn't the script anyone expected, but that's ok...)
I wanted to write - but didn't wish to be false in any way - that one day she'll look back and find that it was all amazing. I don't know. I never had children. I will never have grandchildren. And here I am, embarked on what feels to me another phase of my life... which would have happened I think, whether I'd had children or not. Not sure what I'm saying here. Yes I am -- she will be just fine (actually I'm a bit more worried about you, if it meant, as somehow I imagine it has, more pressure on you).
Next weekend also involves some sort of scrounging around the house for a "grab bag" offering for the party. I don't really have anything that anyone would want (that I don't myself, owner of it, need or otherwise possess for some reason, I don't have much of a cache of extraneous stuff).
But it can also be a sweet, and so my mind - out on my walk around here, in the gray chill before dusk, mallards quacking invisibly on the turbulent rapids - thought of a "silly" thing I can make, that - whoever gets the grab bag, or trades it - will enjoy... And I am enjoying simply thinking of it, planning the cheerful witty I hope delicious surprise...
And look at Angelina Jolie - who was on Anderson today - & on occasion of which I pulled out my exercise mat --
who would ever have imagined how incredibly beautifully, beautifully, beautifully, she - and all about her - would turn out?
so - dearest love -
oh all my love - that's all I can say