A Post. About stuff. Like I do.

This man is the love of my life. The simple fact that I am married to him proves that there is a God in heaven and that God loves me. At least, it proves it to me. Not that I needed more proof, but it's there all the same.

I'll pause here to give all of you time to roll your eyes at my sappiness.

Blah dee blah dee bloo.

Here is a picture of an advertisement for dental jewelry that I took when I was in a country far away known for it's excess and tall buildings and palm shaped islands:

There. Was that distraction enough? Isn't the above basically just a very very very fancy filling?

"Oh. You enjoy candy and aren't fond of brushing?"

"Yeah. I mean NO! This is my dental jewelry. I'm hip and with it."


(I am drumming my fingers looking around at the utter state of chaos that is my house. There are boxes everywhere and nothing is where it should be. The light falling on my dining room table has created a spike shaped shadow, an arrow of sorts, pointing to my Cherry Coke Zero can. I pick it up - empty. This is a sign that I need another Cherry Coke Zero. Actually, it's a sign that I need some water. Actually it's a sign that I need to stop typing boring random meaningless drivel and get back to my point.)

What was my point?

Oh yes.

Zack is in Miami right now, teaching a OneLight Workshop. He'll teach another one in Tampa on Thursday. Friday he'll fly home in time to have dinner, go to sleep and then, Saturday morning it will be Moving Day for us Arias'.

It's been nearly two months since we closed on our house and now, after a few revisions to it, i.e. adding a spiral staircase with a secret wardrobe entrance, knocking down a wall to make two rooms one room, making old fireplaces functional again, painting, etc., we get to actually LIVE there.

The wonderful thing about our new house is that it's 10 houses up the street from my favourite house from my childhood. The park is 3/10ths of a mile away, and our backyard backs up to the Decatur Cemetery, the same cemetery that I played in as a child.

When the realtor** was showing us the house for the first time, I stood in the backyard and looked around me and started crying.

"I've never had an emotional response to a house like this before."

"That means this is your house, then. I knew it, Zack knew it, we all knew it when we walked in."

"It's amazing. I played in this very same cemetery when I was a kid. I'd run around with the neighbourhood boys playing war. I gave myself the moniker "Major Idiot". The seed pod cone thingys off of the Magnolia trees made for great grenades. We'd hide behind tombstones, ripping the stems off of the cones with our teeth and launch them overhead. Now my kids are going to play here."


Getting old is great.

I do not fear it.

That's not true.

Once I get past 36 I think I'll be fine. But that is a bit of writing for another time.

I have to go now. I have a little Hawke to wake up from his nap so that we can pick Joshua and Phoenix up from bus stop and school. Then to get dry cleaning dropped off. Then mail from UPS Store picked up. Then to get Caleb from school. Then haircuts. Then homework. Then dinner. Then chores. Then showers. Then bedtime stories. Then more packing for me. And then, hopefully sleep.

Oddly enough I don't miss Zack because I miss the help, although his presence and help is sorely missed, I just miss him. He is my friend.

This is a good thing.

"A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud. I am arrived at last in the presence of a man so real and equal, that I may drop even those undermost garments of dissimulation, courtesy, and second thought, which men never put off, and may deal with him with the simplicity and wholeness with which one chemical atom meets another."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

**Funny side story: Our realtor, Derek, was the wedding coordinator for my first marriage. Through a series of events and running into each other he became Zack and my's realtor! I told Derek I hoped I had better luck with this house than I did with the marriage! Ba dum bump.