Most like an arch—an entrance which upholds
and shores the stone-crush up the air like lace.
Mass made idea, and idea held in place.
A lock in time. Inside half-heaven unfolds.
Most like an arch—two weaknesses that lean
into a strength. Two fallings become firm.
Two joined abeyances become a term
naming the fact that teaches fact to mean.
Not quite that? Not much less. World as it is,
what’s strong and separate falters. All I do
at piling stone on stone apart from you
is roofless around nothing. Till we kiss
I am no more than upright and unset.
It is by falling in and in we make
the all-bearing point, for one another’s sake,
in faultless failing, raised by our own weight.
The Collected Poems of John Ciardi (University of Arkansas Press, 1997)
6 years after our first date and I wouldn’t change a thing.
Four years ago today, The Husband and I said “I do.”
I’m a lucky, lucky girl.
We didn’t actually get to eat much at the wedding, so on the way to the hotel, we stopped at McDonalds and got Happy Meals. We’ve gone out for Happy Meals every year since, and that’s where we’ll be dining tonight. Such a fun anniversary tradition.
The men outnumber the women in Alaska by something like 2:1, so you’d think the odds of finding a good man were pretty good. I had to move to Washington to find a good man. Women in Alaska have a saying about finding a man: “The odds are good, but the goods are odd.”
Am I biased against Alaskan men? No, some of my favorite men, including my 4 brothers, are from Alaska. But I will be the first to tell you that they are truly odd.
The other day, Mr. H and I were watching Rules of Engagement, part of our Monday night comedy line up after The Big Bang Theory (seriously, pee your pants funny) and How I Met Your Mother.
Audrey had just gotten a promotion and she wanted her husband, Jeff (the Patrick Warburton character) to take her to a Broadway play – “Maybe even a musical – where people might even burst into song for no earthly reason.”
At that moment I realized my life is a musical.
My husband bursts into song for no earthly reason (other than he’s just really happy). It doesn’t matter what he’s doing, washing dishes, walking down the hallway, looking for something interesting to magically appear in the fridge. He makes up funny, silly songs too.
Of course there is no singing out in public or skipping down the sidewalk, but just wait, one of these day’s we’ll have a child and I’ll bet we’ll see him doing that with him or her too.
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