Running Rings

No cooking here at all, not by design, but rather by circumstances. I know, mushy peas, but alas Himself hasn’t made any. He meant to, several times, it once we were out of the right peas (it won’t work with the wrong kind he always says), another time we were out of time and on the excuses go. Well not really excuses, but reasons, which I guess in a way are excuses aren’t they?

I thought for sure we’d be cooking, he does creative things, outlet things when he needs to work through something. But instead there has been a lot of out and about looking into various options about what we are going to do. I suggested we sell the wee Vespa scooters since they aren’t my thing, but he just shakes his head.

You see I want a Harley, a big, loud machine. I want the iconic bike I used to ride, wind in my hair and no such thought of a helmet. But his logic kicks in, too big and not much sense here. The Vespas shall stay because they are practical and needed.

The wee car then, but even as I say it, I know that’s not logical either. Nope we need and shall keep the wee car.

What we happen to have a lot of is books. I know huge surprise for you! First editions and all that. Ideally we’d part with some of those, but that’s a bit like amputation. I’m not really into that.

It feels, in some ways, as if our dreams and desires are disappearing like smoke rings in the dark. Drifting up and fading out of sight, vanishing into a whole world beyond.

But as he says, we are fortunate, we are in a good place and haven’t need for such greed. But you know me, you know my need for excess and big. You know my American tastes, my addiction to books and technology. You know my desire for space and retreat.

So we haven’t cooked. Oh we’ve eaten to be sure, although both of us could stand to forgo meals for a bit. We’ve let cups and cups of tea grow cold with only a few sips removed. I’ve watched tea rings grow dark against white beakers as he calls them.

And I wonder about this all. Can people read something in the tea leaves or our palms? I’m itching to take you with me, to have our futures told, not for real but as a means of entertainment. But I know that this could be disrespectful too, so I simply marvel at all the rings in life and the ripples one effect has on another. I hope my ripples and impacts in your life have been more positive than negative and that the only rings I leave in your life are the ones of love, not dirt rings in the tub!

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