Love and ...?

This year marked our 14th Valentines Day as a couple.  We have never gotten too caught up in the pressure to go overboard on that holiday.  Or any other, really.  There have been cards and flowers, occasionally.  Or a nice meal, or bottle of wine. We both agree that showing one's love and affection shouldn't be limited to one day per year.  Last Friday, I got up early with him, like always.  We quietly sipped our coffee and watched the sun appear. I made him breakfast and he was off to work until the early evening.  

He arrived home, sweaty and tired.  But smiling.  I complained that he didn't text me for a  grocery list and he said he was sorry, but he had stuff on his mind.  I asked him what sort of stuff... He then grinned, opened his arms, and  asked me to marry him.  "Of course!"  was my obvious answer.

After 15 years of cohabitation and most every life-hurdle one can imagine, it's official.  I'm giddy-moreso than expected.  Because he asked, I guess.  My first wedding was in 1981.  I was four months pregnant with my son.  We were hippies, living in the hills near Pescadero.  My mother was dying.  There was no proposal-we just did what we thought was expected of us.  It was a fun wedding. Country style, at tiny Pescadero Community Church.  

The reception was held at the church hall and my friends and I made all of the food, including a freshly-butchered turkey from my friend Christine's flock. Our friend Jim made a beautiful wedding cake, topped with marzipan skeletons.  It was a nice, eclectic mix of family and friends.  We didn't have the money for a fancy honeymoon, but we did manage a weekend in Big Sur, one of my favorite places on earth.  My mother died seven days after the wedding and Aaron was born in April.  Daughter Madeline came along a few years later, as did the demise of our marriage.  Blame it on our ages and the drift that too often occurs when people marry in their early twenties.  In retrospect, I was impatient and unrealistic about my expectations of him and our relationship.Our union lasted about six years. We have been divorced for more than 25 years. We are friends to this day.

My second marriage was also of the shotgun variety.  This relationship was volatile from the start.  Red flags waved in my face, ignored.  I must have felt the need to punish myself, and that's what I did.  I got pregnant just as my youngest child was starting kindergarten.  My then-partner promised to love and care for my two existing kids like he did his own child, and sent a letter to my father, proclaiming just that.  He didn't follow through on that proclamation. He terrorized and abused my two older kids on a regular basis.  I was then attending college classes in the evenings, attempting to improve my job skills.  I eventually dropped out when he announced that he couldn't cope with the childcare workload.  Things finally fell apart completely in 1998.  I drove him to the train station in Riverbank and he took up residence on his parents couch for several years. I've written about this fatal mistake of mine here before...  It wasn't until a few years after our split that I learned about his daily abuse of my children-especially my son.  When confronted, he admitted to all of it.  With no explanation.  As if any explanation would have excused it.  That marriage lasted about seven years.  We are not friends.  I work on forgiving myself and him every day of my life.  A total mistake, except that it brought me Quinn.  She makes all that ugly stuff worthwhile.  Our wedding took place on a bluff in La Selva Beach.  The wedding party consisted of my three kids. Quinn was eight months old and in my arms.  We couldn't afford a honeymoon, either.  But my friend's family owned the Seacliff Inn in Aptos, and she booked us a suite for the night as her gift.  Our baby girl accompanied us.  (She was breast fed-and spoiled!)  I would likely not have married him, but his father made a big (Catholic) fuss about it. We have now been divorced for almost 10 years-it took me 6 years to get him to sign the divorce paperwork.

 

In my current relationship, there has been no rush to marry.  We were not interested in having babies together, and instead focused on raising the kids we had.  He was thrust into his role as stepdad, and we went about the work of life.  There were heartbreaks and disappointments aplenty.  And two daughters to guide through adolescence.  We came close to falling apart way more than once.  The girls grew up and moved out.  Our fathers both died within a few years of each other.  We left our home state for this new frontier, and we ride out the challenges that come with such an endeavor.  We saw our  future here. Together.  We spoke of making it official, and I knew it might occur at some point. But this time, I wanted that proposal I had not yet experienced.

So... even though it was an inevitability,  he managed to totally surprise me. Especially proposing on Valentines Day, a day we have both laughed off as a Hallmark holiday.  I look forward to the rest of life's journey with him by my side.  As he says, this love is "road tested!"

We found this rock in 1999--at the base of a waterfall that drops onto Secret Beach in Point Reyes, California. It's a favorite, magical spot and this rock reminds me of our time there.

The Religion of Nature

No guilt required!

Today is the birthday of my maternal grandmother, Marie Agnes Toben Gee.
Born in Duluth, Minnesota in1900.

I've been researching my ancestry again. Especially the maternal ancestors, since there is much more known about my dad's side.

Yesterday, I looked up some history on my beloved's paternal grandmother, who was also raised in Duluth. That took me to a site that showed all of the surnames connected to her family of origin's surname.

Imagine my surprise at seeing my very own last name listed as one of the family names connected to HIS grandmother. It seems our families connected up in Pennsylvania sometime in the 1700's.

Now I truly understand why we are well-suited! Hey, the world was a far smaller place then. So, when I call him "cuz", it's
actually literal.

Louie Louie

Crab Louie

Recipe courtesy of Swan Oyster Depot, San Francisco

Louie Dressing:
1 pint mayonnaise
1/2 pint tomato ketchup
1/2 cup sweet relish
1/2 cup chopped black olives
2 hard boiled eggs, chopped

Crab Louie Salad:
1 head iceberg lettuce, chopped
8 to 12 ounces fresh picked Dungeness crab meat
1 avocado, peeled, pitted, and sliced lengthwise thinly
3 tomatoes, quartered
1/2 pound asparagus spears, cooked.

Directions:
To make dressing, mix together mayonnaise, ketchup, relish, olives, and eggs.

Make a bed of iceberg lettuce on a large plate. Top with crab, avocado, tomatoes, and asparagus. Drizzle with Louie dressing

Love Is The Drug

Love Is The Drug (1999 Digital Remaster) - Roxy Music

Still They Lead Me Back

Whenever I get back from the city and people I love, this song gets stuck. Especially during the second leg of the journey, down Highway 128. A conditioned response.

Be Thankful

More shameless promotion of my children. Sorry. That is my son at the ripe young age of two weeks. At home, in Aptos California~April 1982. Yes, that's a tiny batik shirt he is wearing. Not tie dye! Batik. Remember?

My son and his girlfriend are joining us for Thanksgiving dinner. This thrills my household, because we've missed the lad. Although he is just three hours away, he is kept busy with work and his band and life. Much like his sister, my older daughter. It's funny. I want them to be independent and capable, and they are. But I miss them both terribly at times. Yet another perplexing paradox to ponder.

I'm definitely thankful for what I got.

The accompanying tune is another fun flashback to my youth.

Eggs, Babs! Eggs!

we are indeed moving. that is a terrifying realization. i have the great fortune to live with a fantastic packer. (that sounds weird.) he is already boxing and labeling books and music like a madman. we will do this in phases, to avoid anxiety. moving was a very sudden opportunity. one we couldn't turn down. the trouble is, spontaneity was easier a few decades ago. i loathe the dreaded yard sale. we're having one.

other than that news, i have some questions. like why is anyone's sex life more interesting or important than the things that actually matter? i can't watch or listen to that mindless crap anymore. i don't care which politician is fucking. (or not fucking, as the case may be.) perhaps if we paid attention to our own sexuality more than everyone else's, the need for our collective voyeurism would diminish? maybe not.

also, why do people stay together if they can't bear to be touched by the person they share a bed with? i don't get it. which isn't to say i didn't live it. divorce was awful, but not as awful as pretending. that was a prison sentence. life is too goddamn short for that.

Fun With Blasphemy

Church of the F.S.M

By way of Boing Boing

Tag-O-Rama

Diva Jood has good timing. She came along and tagged me, providing me with the perfect distraction. I needed that. Because it's all too much. And paying attention is killing me, a little bit more every day.

Here are the rules for the 8 random facts meme:

• We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
• Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
• People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
• At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
• Don’t forget to leave them each a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Here are eight things about me:

1.) I am a third-generation San Franciscan, but haven't lived there since 1974. I love the place, visit and play there often, but have almost always desired a more rural lifestyle. Besides living here on the North Coast, I have lived in places like: North and West Shores of Lake Tahoe, Marin County, Southern Santa Cruz County, and the Central Sierras/near Twain Harte. I like trees. And quiet.

2.) Organized religion scared me at a very early age. Regardless, I was sent to a catholic school for 3rd through 6th grades. That only served to convince me that my fears were well-placed.


3.) I've been married twice, but didn't go on a true honeymoon either time. (Not necessarily a good sign!) The first actual (adult) vacation I've ever gone on occurred last September, when my man took us to the Hilo side of the Big Island. Prior to that, many years of family camping vacations. (The best, most fun way to vacation with kids, in my opinion.) Oh, and the yearly golf tournament, hanging out with all the ex's drunk, obnoxious relatives. :::::shudder:::::::
My immediate family(older children included)have all traveled out of the country, some of them many, many times. I was in Baja, Mexico when I was a young girl, and I spent several months in Edmonton, Alberta... thirty years ago!



4.) I first met the man I love 17 years ago this month, at a mutual friend's home in Fairfax, California. I foolishly sent him on his way about 5 months later-a decision that would haunt me for years. One night in 1999, while having dinner with the same mutual friends, his name came up. I asked for his mailing address, and sent him a letter which included my email address. He emailed me back. We corresponded and eventually planned a visit.
8 years later, and here we are. I never lose sight of the fact that I am a lucky woman indeed, where true love is concerned. Even if it did take about half of my life to know how that feels.


5.) I was a precinct leader in my assembly district during the presidential election of 1992, in Santa Cruz County. Those were exciting and hopeful times. I still had hope for this country's future. Like Diva Jood, I have always been a democrat. I was proud of that fact most all of my voting life. Now I see little difference in the parties. Both lie and lie.


6.) Celeste Holm was a distant relative, on my father's side. A cousin, I think. That never meant much to me, and I haven't met her. "All About Eve" was a great movie, though.

7.) Long time readers already know this, but two of my three children were born on the same date, ten years apart. (April 10) Nope, I've never been a gambler.

8.) Being a mother is the best thing I've done, in all of my life. To some, that may sound trite or trivial or sad. To me, it sounds magnificent.


Done.

I hereby tag:

Tara Dharma

Coffee Messiah

Mrs. G

Joe the Troll
And anyone else that wants to play.
Tagging eight people feels unsurmountable.
I gave it the old college try, though!


*We did not go into town today. The thought of too many sheep in red, white, and blue prevented it. Instead, we worked outside and had a most pleasant day together. My son and his band flew to the East Coast today, for a 2-week tour.



My son and older daughter, last week in San Francisco.

if i had the world to give

on this "hallmark holiday"

i thought throughout the day

about you and i

how when things fell apart

and i lost her~ five months before baby aaron arrived

and there was only you, my divorced-and-single dad

left to parent and grandparent

you have done a splendid job, father-of-mine

so steadfast and loving to the children and i

from beatnik to patriarch

in one lifetime

wow