Need Not Love Weird, Just Me

my Piano Man (showing the photo of a bottle): “Do you approve?”

me (squealing like a delighted maniac): “I want that bottle!”

my Piano Man: “Dead Guy Ale.”

me (half-choking on exclamation marks): “I want it!!!”

A few hours later, my Piano Man came home with two empty bottles of Dead Guy Ale for me to moon over. One of said bottles now resides next to my typewriter. I can glance at it while I’m writing. Every time I look at the skeleton, I grin… remembering the silly exchange that made it mine, basking in the bliss of having a love who knows exactly how to love me.

My sweet Piano Man is not a lover of creepy things (aside from me, that is). But our home is full of what many would probably think of as rather weird—bones, thorns, ashes that used to be alive, enough skulls to make you wonder if “skull fetish” shouldn’t be a thing, hammers, axes, random sticks… and my Piano Man never makes them feel unwelcome.

Some time ago, while I assisted in a Coming of Age dance ritual, the crone leading it (waves at Yudelis), said, “May your weird find a weird to love and be loved by”. I remember thinking, That’s freaking brilliant.

Years later, after I have lived and love and loved and loved… I believe in those wise words more than ever: the success of a relationship doesn’t depend on how similar or different those involved are from each other, but on how well they can love one another while remaining who they are (or, perhaps, while growing together into what they want to be).

he honors my heart
with treasures stripped of all meat,
thoughts of weird be damned

My Piano Man Captures a Sweet Family Moment

My in-laws’ garden grows all sorts of beauties. This summer, we were greeted by bright roses, fragrant basil, and a black-eyed Susan dressed in blushing autumnal yum.

The garden was the center of this year’s vacation. My Piano Man spent most of his time building a raised garden bed. Watching him work was fun and then some… *giggles*.

Yes, I helped. I needed a socially acceptable reason to have fun with a sledgehammer, an ax, a cutter mattock, a shovel…

Don’t believe that it was all work. There was county fair enjoyment, birthday celebration, sunset delight, relaxing at the beach…

…the Little Princess made herself into art and everything.

My favorite picture from the trip: while my Piano Man tries to capture a sweet family moment (he shared his intent), the Little Princess completely ignores him (she was busy screaming at crows), my in-laws don’t hear him (they were looking at a barge that was transporting a house), I show my maturity and attentiveness by sticking my tongue out. But, be honest, he is so handsome that you probably wouldn’t have noticed us anyway.

Our trip to Friday Harbor is always the perfect end to the summer. It gets us ready for the madness to come. October is nuts around here—fall shows for my Piano Man, pre-winter tests for me, and Nature doing her yearly striptease… one leaf at a time. Perfect.