a thousand blue fish

I woke up this morning to a smell I couldn’t quite place.   It was a manly smell that I haven’t smelt in a month as my husband has been participating in Movember.   Before I’d even had time to put my glasses on (which means my seeing eyes are not seeing much) he’d handed me a stone shaped like a heart with the most perfect hole in it.  I kissed him and wished him happy anniversary.  At this point he jumped out of bed and grabbed a small black and gold bag out of his cupboard.  Inside the bag was a box and inside the box was the most beautiful, thoughtful present I could ever had hoped for.  Emiel had, in the last couple of weeks, found a coin from Swaziland. He had taken the coin and had it put on a silver chain… for me.  Swaziland is my heart place, my safe place if ever a physical place could be that.  We went there for a few days on our honeymoon because I wanted so badly to show the man I loved the place I loved.  And it was a...

When I was younger, particularly around the time of my 25th birthday, the idea of growing up really, really BUGGED me.  And then life happened wham!  It is not so much that I don't want to grow up as much as I don't want the expectations of others to dictate the direction of my life.  I know that sounds immature, but heck, I have to live my life don't I?  I often do things a bit wonky.  Because the societal/Christian norm is for my life to look like XYZ by whatever age I would be like, "Um, no, I'd rather it didn't."  My rebellion was not, however, really all that well thoughout so there would be no alternative, just a fat hole into which I could fall.  I see the error in my way!  BUT, and this is kind of a biggie, I am not all that happy with the grown-up stuffy that I think I have achieved (that being said I think some people still view um, where I am at this stage in my life as immaturity.)  I like loud music t...