Sunday, August 17, 2008

Jeeze, may we all have such memorable anniversaries.

There is a bit of a story leading up to the part about my 21st wedding anniversary. Which is today.
Yesterday I worked at the Farmers Market like usual. When I got home there was a package on the table from our dear friend, Andy. Artie has hopping around in the kitchen desperately wanting to open it and having run out of excited patient for my return home.
"Sure, go ahead and open it honey."
Look what was inside:No wonder she was hopping around the kitchen! She knows that Uncle Andy lives near a Lindt factory store outlet and she was hoping that was what was inside. And she was right.
And not two minutes later but the there is a knock at the door and it's a delivery guy delivering an edible bouquet of chocolate covered strawberries from my sweetie. Look at this:How luscious are these? How thoughtful of my man to send me chocolate covered strawberry flowers. Oh, he knows me well.
Now for my funny story....
This week I was talking to Michael about our anniversary. This is the first time that we have ever been apart. I realized that we hadn't even talked about it and I had just assumed that we would do a 'do-over' sometime this Fall when we are settled in Paducah. It turns out that he had assumed the same thing so all was good. He did mention though that I would know that it was our anniversary when the time came. Ooohh I felt bad. I hadn't done anything for him. I told him how bad I felt and he reassured me that it was no big deal. No big deal?! After our phone conversation I felt awful. he did something for me and I didn't do anything for him. So I got to thinking about it. There is a personal joke between that has to do with poetry that he has written to me over the years. He writes very profound and beautiful poetry and a lot of times I don't get it. It took me years to finally tell him that many times I have no idea exactly what he is trying to say to me. So...I thought that it would be funny to write him a poem that made little sense and he would sit there and have no clue what the heck I was trying to say to him.
I sat for hours composing the perfect piece. I put in bits of personal stuff surrounded by stuff that didn't mean anything. I thought for sure that he would be bewildered. And at the bottom I hand wrote, "Because turn-a-round is fair play. I love you.".
Here is my poem for all to read and be bewildered by:


Your eyes
brown as DUST DEVILS
Whirling, whirly
In the desert of tucson.

Your hair
Black as a raven
Silent as an island night.

Why does the cat meow?

Does the cake whisper to you
As it whispers to me?

IS IT Like being in a dog’s mouth?

Your heart
clear and bright
travels to Glastonbury.

Your hands
Spaces upon spaces

If only I could nibble on your ear tonight.

Mind you my husband does not have brown eyes or black hair.
Well, I call him up in the early evening and he answers by saying that he is reading a lovely poem from his wife and that I should write more. I was struck dumb. I didn't know what to say. He's going on and on about what a nice poem it is.
'You get it?", I ask.
"Yeah, why?", he replies nonchalantly.
"Because I don't even get it, that's why."
We laugh. Even in my most profound I am as simple as apple pie. And I thought that I was being so sassy and funny.
He did mention, however, that he wondered about the brown eyes and black hair.
Jeeze, may we all have such memorable anniversaries.