'Beneath the Rowan Tree'

Out of the mists of forever,
across the rolling sea,
over the stark, timeless mountains,
you found your way to me.
You woke me as I lay sleeping
beneath the rowan tree,
pressing a kiss into my breast,
setting my fettered heart free.
The nightbirds sang us their love songs
and fireflies danced a ballet,
as limned in moonlight, we made love
'till night gave way to day.
In the morning mists you left me
beneath the rowan tree,
where I shall wait for your return,
forever, if need be.

Nooooooooooo, not THAT pie!  I mean a slice of pie that is my life.....

I just have to relate what happened at my house Monday afternoon.....

My husband and daughter and I were sitting in my room watching 'Tristan + Isolde' and my son came in. He stood in the doorway looking at the movie for a few moments, then asked idly, "What's this?"
"'Tristan and Isolde'," I replied.

 A beat of silence and then: "What?"
"'Tristan and Isolde'," I repeated.
My son said incredulously, "There's a movie called 'Tristan and He's Old'?"

 Well, of course we all fell about laughing and when I'd recovered a bit I knew I had to record this little slice of my life on my favorite movie forum because I figured the other fans of 'Tristan + Isolde' would get a kick out of it.

I quickly typed in the story then laughingly showed my son what I had written. Horrified, he hollered "MOM!" and bumped against my desk chair. Now, he says it was an accident, but all I know is that with that bump, he hit the height-adjustor-thingie on my chair and it suddenly slammed down 6 inches or so. This caused me to bang my right foot against the back of the desk. My toes bent down at the first joint....and I felt a wave of intense pain as something snapped.

After I finished cussing, I got up and hobbled to the bed and had a look at my throbbing toes. I'd felt this kind of pain before, so I was pretty certain of what had happened. Sure enough.......my second toe was broken.

There isn't a whole lot that can be done for a broken toe, and I knew I didn't want to sit in the emergency waiting room for half the night, so I gritted my teeth, shoved the broken toe back into alignment and cussed some more till the new wave of pain receded.

Well, that's pretty much the end of the drama. My toe is bandaged and probably engaged in healing, and now it has turned a lovely shade of sunset-purple, fading to green and yellow at the edges. It sho' is pretty.

 Remember what Shug said in the film 'The Color Purple'?:
"I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don't notice it."

Well, I have my very own color purple now and I'm carrying it with me. I don't have to go outside to admire it in a field!

Okay, yes, I admit it.  I messed up.  I got a bit tooooooooo close with hints about my e-mail address in a couple of comments sections, even though I knew better.  I didn't use the Y word but one close to it.  Now I'm banned from leaving comments.  It pissed me off, but hey, MEA CULPA.  I'm a bad, bad girl. 

Someone mentioned to me recently that he/she had never colored outside the lines of life and I replied that I've hardly ever stayed inside ANY lines.  There's just something in me that has to push the envelope.  I get caught, and reprimanded or punished or whatever, and I get really mad for a minute or so, then I have to laugh.  I DO bring things on myself.....

At least I'm rarely bored.                

I wanted true love and did not find it in my marriage.

By age 40 or so I was ready to hang it up, resign myself to a life of celibacy, maybe take up yet another hobby, invest in a fleet of dildos..... My hubby discovered several years ago that he's gay, and i became redundant where sex was concerned. Fortunately, however, after much discussion, we agreed to join the open-marriage lifestyle. It was great, discovering new lovers, and although I did find friends and sexual satisfaction, I was emotionally bereft. I so needed love; not just to be loved, but to love......

I met a man online. That's nothing unusual these days, but I suppose it is a bit unusual to fall for someone who lives nearly 5000 miles away. Nevertheless, that's what I did. Within weeks of our initial 'meet-up' he became my whole world. I thought of him almost constantly. I dreamt of him, fantasized about him. We chatted endlessly, for 4 to 6 hours nearly every day/night. We telephoned once or twice a week and I even sent him letters via snail-mail so I could enclose a pressed flower, a lock of my hair, a tiny lace scrap of a handkerchief which I'd sprayed with my perfume. He sent me his shirt so I could sleep in it. He sent me the music he lay in bed and listened to while he thought of me.

The entire time we loved we never once faced the truth which lurked round every corner, and that was that we could never be together. We could not share a life together. We could not marry, have a family. This wasn't because of the distance between us, but because I am already married and plan to stay that way, and because I have children and cannot have more, and because he is 17 years younger than I.

I did not have the courage to end it, but he did. We have remained friends~~of a sort~~but the gulf between us yawns wider day by day. We never chat any more. We rarely e-mail. I know he has moved on, and yet.....I worry about what damage I may have done to this beautiful young man. It's been over 3 years since we severed our bonds, and although life appears to have changed very little for me, I know that neither of us will ever be the same......I have finally recovered from the elation, the passion, the pain of that love, but it took all this time. Three years. He has drifted, to another job, to another country. For a while it seemed he looked for a new, more feasible, possibly permanent love, but the last time we communicated I felt he had given up. He said he'd met a nice woman and she was very good to him, but he didn't see the relationship 'going anywhere' because he'd grown used to being on his own.

I hope one day he'll change his mind.

I will never again plunge into love. Love always exacts a price, and sometimes it is not only we, ourselves, who must pay it.