When I was a young girl I would, as young girls have always done, wonder about what sort of person I would marry. He would be handsome, of course, or at least interesting-looking. He would be dangerously sexy like Mick Jagger or Jim Morrison or Jimi Hendrix or perhaps he'd be incredibly artistic and poetic and mysterious like Bob Dylan. Or maybe he'd be really spiritual in the coolest way possible like George Harrison or sort of cozy and cuddly-looking but with beautiful eyes like Paul McCartney.
Do you detect a theme here?
I've always said that since I didn't really have a daddy, I didn't have a father-figure and thus, my ideas of what constituted a perfect mate could be based on whatever I wanted them to be based on and for me that pretty much meant musicians. After all, I was a child of the sixties and seventies.
When I heard B.B. King say, "Who's your daddy?" I almost swooned.
"You, B.B.! You!" I shouted.
Well, I grew up and married a musician so we can strike that off the bucket list. It just didn't really work out. But over my lifetime, many, many of my friends have been musicians and that has gone tremendously well.
Anyway, in all of my musings, I never really thought about marrying a jock. Never, never, never.
Nor did I ever consider height in my wonderings. I am 5'4" and thus, most men are taller than me although when I was a child in Roseland, there were two brothers whose mother was a friend of my mother's and they were both in their late teens and well over six feet tall and I loved them both with all of my innocent little girl heart. I wanted desperately for my mother to marry one to be my daddy.
This would have worked out better than the man she DID end up marrying but that's another story.
So when I met Glen Moon, my first thoughts about him were that he was cute enough but good lord he was tall. Too tall. Really. Almost seven feet tall. He had a truck. He had a dog. He was hired by a friend who was painting my house to paint the shutters and steps. He seemed annoyingly happy all of the time.
And he seemed not the least bit interested in me.
It wasn't until I met him again at a local bar (my ex-husband was playing) and he asked me to dance that I began to see that he was, well, yes. Cute. Very cute.
And just as tall as I had remembered.
And within less than a week, I told a friend of mine, "That boy is going to ask me to marry him."
This is all leading up to say that I never considered that I would marry an almost seven foot tall former basketball player who was bizarrely happy who would own businesses that involved car repairs and car sales, and a little bit of real estate on the side. I never considered marrying a man who could paint, do carpentry, fix almost anything that needed fixing, read legal documents almost as well as an attorney, was not in the least bit insane and who, thirty-seven years later would ask me to please wash the cement out of his overalls before they dried.
And yet, that is what has happened.
All day while I have puttered around the garden and the kitchen, making yet another seven pints of pickled green beans, he has made cement (concrete?) and poured it into a form that he made with his own hands where the generator will go. He didn't take a break once. He never even stopped for lunch.
This is not going to be an attractive yard feature, y'all. But it has to be within ten feet (no closer!) to the gas tank and so that's where it has to go. Right there. And when we lose power and can run our fans and lights and refrigerator and perhaps even AC, it will look beautiful.
I spend half my life now trying to find things in the refrigerator like leftovers or yogurt and honestly, it's now the place where good foods go to die.
I assume you do too.
Mary-this made me laugh so much. Your fridge looks JUST like Eden's. She a total foody-cook-chef and that's her actual work but my G-D. Tiny jars of her homemade chili sauce and some walnut oil from the Armenian store and garlic that's already been roasted etc etc. While she lay abed, she's ask for coconut water and I'd say, "Give me a half hour, I'll find it eventually." No, really, I'd have to empty out the top two shelves to find shit. You would just love her and she you. She talks, thinks about, endorses and eats food ALL DAY. As well as preparing it. Comical if I'm making something and she's pulling out this and that. "Do you want to add some pomegranate molasses or chia seeds or kim chee that my friend made to your pizza topping?" etc. If she's not eating, planning, tasting and so forth, she's talking about restaurants. We ate zhengyalou hatz-a delicious fresh greens wrapped in a thin crepe from Armenia. And so much more. I love that girl and I love you.
ReplyDeleteI love Eden and I don't even really know her but I feel certain we could cook and laugh together. I am CERTAINLY not as chef-y as she is but I would be happy for her to teach me a thing or two.
DeleteI love you, too, Beth.
OMG, your fridge! You have some more work to do.......or else visiting all your neighbors laden with veggie gifts! Mr Moon is a dream..... that slab may be an eyesore now, but it will no doubt carry you through some power-less times with ease. Yes, you married the tall man of your dreams........ and he married the woman who would make *it* all happen.....whatever comes.
ReplyDeleteI am hoping the hurricane does not hit you full on.....hard to tell, but I'm sure you are as prepared as you can be
Susan M
I'm not too worried about the hurricane now, especially since it's just a tropical storm. It's really nice, though, to think of when we have that generator and power loss won't be so miserable. It's okay for about ten hours and then you'd do anything for a warm shower and a cool bed.
DeleteWell, first, that slab of concrete really does it for me! Like six orgasms in a row I love it so!!
ReplyDeleteI have always liked short men, eye to eye, you understand. I did not want to be treated like a "little" girl.
That clip did it for me for the rest of my life, dear lord do I love our Kieth. Don't they bring it!!
When Erik was tiny, though a chubby kid who loved to eat- he said that if he ever got married he would marry the refrigerator.
DeleteYeah. I never had a "daddy" thing either. Or so I say. But when you think about it, I do want my love to be protective and Mr. Moon is certainly full of the need to protect. Like a good rooster he can see trouble coming from on-high and be ready for it.
DeleteThat is a cool slab, isn't it? Professional.
What I love about Keith in that cut is his smile. He always, always looks like he's having the most fun of his life when he plays and I think he is.
Erik! I guess he could marry a refrigerator if he wanted to badly enough.
OMG woman, you officially have too many vegetables!
ReplyDeleteHe sounds like a very good man and handy as well. I like handy men.
I KNOW! Too much VEGETATIVE MATTER! There is no way to eat it all and I don't think I can can it all either.
DeleteI like handy men too. They are definitely good to have around.
I think we're all a little in love with Mr. Moon.
ReplyDeleteThere's a sign-up sheet for when I die.
DeleteI really liked being around Handsome Partner, a man my size, no stiff neck! But Mr Moon is pretty cool
ReplyDeleteHe's worth stretching my neck for. I do seem to kiss his belly a lot.
DeleteThere are never too many vegetables!!! Do you need more freezer space? If I were to recommend what a woman should look for in a man top of the list would be his ability to be handy - second to be kind. With those two things a woman would be set I think.
ReplyDeleteWe have the freezer inside and three different kinds of freezers outside so we're good there.
DeleteMr. Moon is definitely handy and kind. He's bonafide.
I love your zinnias! Most of mine got smothered this year by the volunteer grape tomatoes from the compost pile!
ReplyDeleteDang those grape tomatoes!
Deleteand I thought my fridge gets crowded sometimes.
ReplyDeletemy first husband was tall, 6' maybe a little taller tho not as tall as Mr Moon. and when I divorced the
rat bastard I swore I'd never have another tall boyfriend. kissing made my neck hurt. and I didn't. Marc is about 5' 9" (I'm also 5' 4"). and I knew too, after we'd been going out a month or two that he would never break up with me, in fact, he said to me after picking me up one time,
"we're not really dating anymore". no we were just together. still are.
When it's right, you know, don't you?
DeleteNot all tall men are rat bastards. I promise.
We never really know when Mr. Wonderful will show up and be just perfect for us! You got a Keeper for sure! Your fridge looks filled with fresh goodness and I'm impressed with how much you Can to use for later in those wonderful home-made meals you prepare.
ReplyDeleteYou and Mr. Moon hit the jackpot on love when you found each other. Your love story makes cement overalls dashing and romantic.
ReplyDelete