Sunday, November 9, 2014

Long Love

My sweetheart is home from the woods and the clothesline is already filling up with camouflage jeans and jackets and shirts and hoods and hats and a bright-orange vest.
The cooler, however, is empty.
Ah well. It's all about the woods and the wardrobe, I believe. (Don't tell him I said that part about the wardrobe, okay?)

I spent most of the day on my annual chopping back of the confederate jasmine. I dare not call it pruning. That would imply some sort of talent or actual skill or deliberation. No, I chop at the vines braided together like giant green dreadlocks, the sap flying everywhere. I pull and cut and pull and cut and no matter what I do to it, it will bloom in spring in almost too-intense ecstasy, the scent enough to make you reach for the smelling salts with one hand and a hankie with the other. It felt good.

I got a call today from a friend telling me that a man I've acted with at the Opera House died last night. He and his beloved wife had just gotten back from a trip to Europe and he was on a canoeing trip with a friend and out of nowhere, he went into convulsions and died.
It's unbelievable.
He was one of those men who brought joy into every room he entered. We weren't close but the news made me cry. Mostly for his wife. They met and fell in love later in life and were so happy together. I feel so sorry for her and for his children.
Life is just so tenuous, isn't it? My god but we have to hold on and be aware of every bit of goodness and love that we can. I am thinking of him this evening. I am thinking of his wife who adored him.

Last night I just couldn't bear another bowl of leftover soup and so I made a faux curry of chicken thighs and carrots and sweet potatoes and red peppers and onions and mushrooms and green beans with a pot of brown rice to go with it. I say "faux" because the only half-way authentic ingredient in it was the coconut milk I poured from a can. I used curry paste and curry powder and frankly, I thought it was delicious.

Mr. Moon claims not to like curry but he's getting it tonight anyway and I think he's going to like it. I picked a few more tiny greens from the garden to make a salad and am trying to make naan. I got the recipe from the internet so you know it'll be delicious. Right? How can you go wrong with fried bread? Well, it's not really fried but it is cooked in a skillet. It is rising now. I'll let you know how it works out. It is good to have this man home to force into eating foods he doesn't like. At least I am not going to make him eat beets. I will eat those when he is in Canada. And probably more curry but with tofu. Not that I dislike chicken but I do love the tofu and Mr. Moon claims he does not although one of his very favorite meals (perhaps his favorite) is the egg rolls I make with tofu. And the hot and sour soup I also make with it. So, you know. It all depends.
I'm pretty sure though that no matter what I did with beets he would not be happy about it.

And so it goes. We had a porch martini and talked about all sorts of stuff and I seriously do not know what I would do without him. I remember when we first met and he had been dating a girl much younger than he was. Much younger than I was. And we were in that just-getting-started phase of a relationship and we were in my bed but mostly just talking and I told him that it was such a pleasure for me to have such a god of a man in my bed (oh, and he was and he still is) and he did that "time-out" thing with his hands and said, "And it's so nice to be able to talk to someone who knows what I'm talking about."

"Something's Gotta Give," the movie I watched last night is a woman's fantasy movie. A middle aged woman is courted by two men- one much younger than she is and one her age who has never, before he met her, been able to commit. Who never fell in love before he met her.
But thinking about it, I have to say that when I met my now-husband, I had been courted by younger men myself. No need for details but they were sweet. But when I met him, one month older than me by a day, it felt right.

And thirty years later, the history we share is all-encompassing. Not to mention that we still very much love each other. That we still find new ways to love each other while the old ways are always there at the same time.

Fuck. I've said it before, I will say it again.
I am the luckiest woman on earth.

Wish me luck with the naan.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. The news about George was quite a shock. I keep thinking about all of the fun with him in rehearsals, and how much I liked the scenes he and I had together in 'Nobody's Perfect'. Not the best show, but we all had some fun. Gonna miss him.

  2. So sorry to hear about your friend from the Opera House. Glad Mr. Moon is home with you on a night when you receive such news.

    Im sure the naan turned out just fine, lucky woman! and if it didn't, well, the big things are still okay.


  3. The faux curry sounds wonderful. And my sweetie is the same way about tofu. Could we possibly have the molasses cake recipe? After 39 years of married life, my cooking is kind of in a rut. Glad for any assistance.

  4. Lovely lovely post. There is a word for what I feel. In Pali (the language of the Buddha) it's Muditta-
    sympathetic joy.

    From the rainy rain.


  5. I love that you are doing so well. Compared to Hell on Earth (for both of us) last year it makes me glad that we both stared that asshole of a black dog in the face and came out the other side. I say that tentatively for myself though. He is always lurking. Though not in the neighbourhood at the moment, I never know when he will show up at the door of my house.

  6. It's always wonderful to read the tenderness you express in your beautiful marriage. And I love curries. Could eat 'em every day.

    Condolences for the loss of your friend. Every moment a strong and fragile gift.

    wv: luxuriance

  7. I loved hearing this intimate detail of your marriage. Ya'll give hope to the lovelorn. And I'm so sorry to hear about the death of the man from the opera house. I think you've written about him and his wife -- how tragic.

  8. I am sorry for the loss of your friend and glad Mr. Moon is home safe. Gail

  9. Totally understand about the beets. My love hates the sight if them

  10. I think there's a lot to be said for similarity of age and experience. Godliness (in the "god of a man" sense you mentioned) doesn't hurt either!

    I'm impressed that you are making naan. That curry looks amazing too! I think a lot of people who say they are opposed to tofu either haven't tried it or are opposed to the granola-y associations that it carries. It's the IDEA of tofu that they don't like, more than the tofu itself.

  11. I'm sorry for the loss of your opera house friend, but oh, what a way to go! No long term, debilitating illness, just wham, gone. That's the way to do it, as if one ever had a choice.

    Mr. Moon is coming to Canada?! What part?

    I love how you two love each other.

  12. If the naan works out, could you link to the recipe? I haven't found one that looks doable given my limited cooking experience with yeast (that would be NONE).
    Sudden death really pulls us up short and gets our attention. I'm sorry your friend is gone.
    Great post about a well made life.

  13. Not to get overly involved but you once wrote of a couple who met later in life from the opera...jan? So sorry about your theater friend.
    Need the recipe . Need ideas for sweet potatoes. I grew a bunch!
    Michele r

  14. Jon- It is rather unbelievable, isn't it?

    Angella- The naan turned out to be delicious but it sure wasn't very pretty. Thank you.

    Cathy- I did not give Hank a recipe, just told him things he would need to buy at the grocery store like flour and baking powder and so forth. He hasn't had an oven in a decade. I should do more recipes. The problem is, I make almost everything up as I go.

    Beth Coyote- Muditta. I need to write that down where I can see it. Such a beautiful word. Thank you.

    ditchingthedog- Even though I sometimes feel great sadness or sorrow, I don't have the anxiety or really the depression. It all feels rather normalish. May this be the case for both of us for a long, long time.

    A- Great VW. Yes, every moment IS a strong and fragile gift.

    Elizabeth- This is not the couple I referred to as "the lovers." They have had their ups and downs with health but are well and still in love.

    Gail- He and I were not close at all but his spirit was so shiny for everyone he was around.
    Thank you.

    MaryAnn- Mr. Moon says they taste like dirt. Which is of course, sort of true and why many of us like them.

    Steve Reed- You are right about the godlikeness AND the curry!

    Allison- Do not be afraid of yeast! That's my advice. I'll see if I can find the link.
    Sudden death is just fucking shocking. And so hard. Well, all death is hard. But this is a different kind of hard.

    Michele R- No, this was not that couple. But you have a very good memory. Jack and Jan are quite well and very happy together.

  15. Hahaha--I misread that last line. I thought it said wish me luck with the man. Whaaat? I thought. She doesn't need any luck with that man.

  16. I know that it was instant love for me when I met my wife. I cannot imagine life without her. She is my touchstone. I get the feelings that you have. And somehow the magic survives even after many years of marriage.


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