Happy Anniversary, Husband Dearest

We’ve been married for 5 years, known each other for 30, and lived together for 27.

Whew! Where’s the bubbly?

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.”
—Rumi

[Contrary to the photo, our ceremony did not involve a church or flowing gown. Instead, we had a corporate conference room and pinstriped suits. But that’s another story…]

It’s Been A While

I’ve missed you. Though I’ll try to post a little this month, there may not be much regularity until I escape this parallel universe I’ve been stuck in, a universe where . . .

Insurance companies reject me for coverage

The IRS loses one of the documents I’ve sent them and now says I owe back taxes and a fine

Before we’ve even had a chance to move into our new apartment, our landlord announces he’s thinking of selling the building

My husband’s insurance company has been sanctioned by the Feds and now we need to find new insurance for him

Mr. Slimy plots to get more money from us

We try to sell most of our possessions and learn that people want things for nothing

The people in the state we’re moving to have a curious habit of driving their cars across lawns to be as close as possible to the door of a building

Yes, I have much to tell you. But until I have time to write, I want you to have a long-overdue thank-you for reading Lull. I’d planned to have this ready in June, the one-year anniversary of Lull. But stuff happened. So here it is now: a little book called Lil’ Bits. If you know someone else who might like it, share this link:
http://docs.google.com/fileview?id=0BzrbFA_PWccHYTk3MDUwODUtNWM4MS00MDA5LWJkNGMtZDI0YWY4MTEyMzE4&hl=en&authkey=CMvf0YsH

Hope you’re well, dear readers.

Take Time to Stop and Smell the Moonflower

It's the first day of a new month.

My husband and I used to celebrate our relationship on the first day of every month, with a larger annual celebration on April 1st. But then we got married after 25 years of testing our cohabitability and confused ourselves about which dates to honor. All of them, you say? You're probably right.

For my pooch, the first day of a new month means taking the dreaded heartworm medication.

But today is the first day of a special month: September. For many children, it's the end of freedom and the beginning of school. (When I was a kid, I could hardly wait for summer to end and homework to begin.) Here in the Midwest, today marks the onset of a new and colorful season. (The tree outside my sunporch window already bears swaths of yellow leaves.)

Autumn is the season I can't get enough of. But I fear that this year, more than previous years, the atypical weather we've been having is going to strip the trees of their leaves early and we'll have extra snowless, gray days to stretch out our Winter. 

So I have to make every outing with the pooch count: Make her go to the park instead of walking around the block, try to catch each change of hue as it happens, notice the shifts in sunlight. 

Of course, this is a moot point if she whines and groans me awake at 4 o'clock in the morning as she did today, in which case I keep my eyes peeled for smarmy characters in the shadows. However, if we end up headed west on one block, we pass a large bush of "moonflowers." The intensely fragrant blossoms open only at night—and only once. I'm many decades into my life and this is the first moonflower I've ever seen. I try to savor it whenever I can.

Happy September 1st to you, dear reader!