New Posts Coming - Really.

I've taken a few posts down - ones that dealt with that sociopath, mainly - as so much has changed in my life in such a short time, that I keep forgetting that the sociopath was part of my life, and I'm not interested in remembering.
So, those posts are gone.
I've got a few posts that I'm working on, mainly about the roofing expedition of mine and G's, and I'll be putting those up in the coming week. You might be thinking that the roofing posts will bore you. Pshaw. You think the roofing posts are really going to be about the roof? No, of course not. They're about the relationship. We may have replaced the roof, but we built something way bigger in the process, and I don't think he or I had a clue we were going to do that. Let me just say this - if G and I weren't good for each other, if we didn't have a great relationship happening, we would not have survived the roof job as a couple. No way. *That* was intense. And probably the best investment of my time, energy and effort so far in my life. Good stuff.
I talked with G and we decided it works for us if I take up the November novel writing challenge, so hopefully I'll get through the first draft of the novel I've had knocking around in my head for years now. I anticipate blogging a bit more during that phase, too, since, if I have trouble working on the novel, I plan on blogging instead or at least progressing a few potential posts.
As you can read, it's my hope to provide a bit more content here by the coming year. It was my intent last year, too, but hey, Rome wasn't built in a day. I said that not so long ago to G and he said "No, but it did come down pretty fast." I'm just glad we weren't talking about the roof or our relationship at that time. I'd have had to wonder about that.

Ginger

From the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, I remove several fingers of ginger root.
“What’s that?” asks G, looking at the beige segmented cluster inquisitively.
“Ginger.” I reply, holding it out for his closer inspection.
“How long has she been dead?” he asks with incredulity.

Two Months

“Yeah, you don’t seem to be thinking ‘I wish she’d go home’ about me,” I say to G as we talk over dinner on the two month anniversary of my moving in with him.
“Oh, I think that a lot, actually,” he says casually, “but only when I’m at home and you’re not.”

Nevermind

We return in my car to his workplace, where his motorcycle is, on the industrial side of town after dinner and socializing downtown. He goes into work to get his helmet and leather jacket while I leave for home, having agreed we’ll meet there. I head east on Hall Street, to the 131 North onramp and hop on the freeway. I cruise along at 82 mph, a rate that is somewhat above the limit, true - it’s a beautiful summer evening, and I’m feeling good.

I take the I-96 interchange and head west into the sunset, thinking about G. We take a couple minutes to watch the sun set together most nights, and it pleases me to know that he is some miles behind me in traffic, seeing the same sunset, and that he is probably thinking much the same.

I am a few miles away from my exit when I notice a motorcycle approaching from behind at a fairly good clip. I know that it cannot be G, because I have been traveling at 82 mph continuously, and he’d have to be going quite fast to catch up with me, considering the late start and all. Quite fast. At the rate the motorcycle behind me has been traveling, I expect it to pass me fairly soon. When it does not, I check on it in my rearview mirror. It’s keeping time with me now, oddly enough.

I take my exit, as does the motorcyclist, and by now, I can tell that it is G. I start to wonder how fast he was going to catch up with me, and ponder this the last few miles home. We pull into the drive together, I get out of my car, and start towards the pole barn where he parks the motorcycle. As he emerges, my first words to him are, “How the hell fast were you going that you managed to catch up with me?”

He grins widely and says “I was ONE light cycle behind you - how the hell fast were YOU going that it took me over 20 miles to catch up with you?”

Oh.

Right.

Nevermind.

Grilling at home with G

G is about to start the grill, and asks how much chicken we're grilling, so he can gauge how much charcoal to use. I look over the three of everything from the pick-of-the-chick package and answer, "About one and a half chickens".

He is silent a moment and then asks, "Metric or English?"

And that's one of the things I love about our home - we both laugh a lot.

Day 12 in the Country

Today, I set out to mow the lawn early in the day, before it got too hot. I hopped on the mower, and got to work. I started to round the fire pit, and had to go around the bush that G had pulled into the yard with the truck and the chain days before.
I got in close to the bush. The grass was tall.
The grass hid the chain. (See Day 8 in the Country post.)
Wow. Did hitting the chain ever stop the riding mower fast. And hard.
I threw in the clutch and the brake, disengaged the mower, put it in neutral, and thew the key to off, not that it was running at that point, anyway.
I spent the next two hours outside in full sun with my arms under the mower (I know, I know, I know) trying to get the chain unwrapped from the blades. The blades didn't bend (much), but it has to have damaged them a little. Once I finally got the chain free, I got the mower started again. It runs. It cuts. All good.
Except for the nicks in the blade from a frickin' huge chain.
I'm a little tempted to not mention it to him, as he might get pissed at himself for the chain being in the lawn, but it's not like I wasn't there when the chain was deposited in the lawn, so I SHOULD have known it was there. I blame me. And so, I don't want to not tell him, as I want to come clean on it.
And all this is skipping the Day 11 in the Country post, which was really just a bit too much of a day for me. It included cats escaping the house, aerial antennas, and other interesting events that I may, or may not, muster the strength to post.

Day 8 in the Country

It is hot and humid, and G and I are discussing the air conditioners, and which windows to install them. His preference in the master bedroom is a window blocked by a large thorny bush. Because of the thorns, G hates the bush, and dreads installing the air conditioner. However, the other window is over a slope, and is difficult to reach, at best. I mention how a chain and a truck could probably rip that bush out in minutes. I see a light turn on in his eyes. Five minutes later, he has a chain wrapped around the bush and attached to the tow hook of the truck. He is excited. He hops in the truck, backs up some, and then goes forward, swiftly giving the bush a yank. It lifts some, but does not quite leave the ground. He backs up and then gives it another swift yank. It nearly frees from the ground. He stops and backs up again. “You can probably just go now - it’s pretty much free but it’ll come out with just a little tug.” I say. “Oh, I know,” he says with a grin, “but I want to see it fly.” He gives it another swift yank, and it leaps from the ground behind the truck. G keeps going, across the drive, into the side yard, behind the pole barn to the fire pit. He stops the truck there, releases the chain. He is still grinning.

Good fun.