Different Is Delicious… and Necessary

“Just as the health of a forest or fragrant meadow can be measured by the number of different insects and plants and creatures that successfully make it their home, so only by an extraordinary abundance of disparate [psychological, physiological], spiritual and philosophic paths will human beings navigate a pathway through the dark and swirling storms that mark our current era.”
~ Drawing Down the Moon, by Margot Adler

The last week has been wonderful. I’ve been in quite a bit of pain, but that’s to be expected after nine hours spent between a plane, a car and a ferry. Although my side is screaming at the moment, I would do every single thing again in the exact same way. You see, my Wicked Luvs, that’s what keeps me keeping on… paddling forward showing happy teeth: even when it hurts, I can still do many of the things I love.

My Piano Man and I were discussing that, after I read a few of the emails currently overpopulating my inbox. A friend said, “You are on vacation, for goodness’ sake! Get away from that computer and live a little.” She doesn’t understand that part of my living is fueled by seeing how others live. When I’m in a lot of pain, I find solace in the smiles of those I love and like… the more smiles the better. A family member told me, “I wish my pain was as easily manageable as yours. But the kind of pain I have steals your concentration and your strength to stay out of bed [she has arthritis in her left hand]. You are so lucky you don’t hurt as much.” No, my Luvs, I didn’t slap her—I’ve yet to master the art of email-punching.

But there is always that person who reminds me that I’m not the only one who shares her existence with pain and refuses to stop living. A Wild Poetess I admire, wrote to me, “I am so sorry you struggle with your health so much—one would never know it from the vibrant spirit you display…” I replied, “I’ve always been lucky enough to find many things to smile and vibrate (giggles) about, even when life and health get tough. Writing [my tales], and reading what other people write, has always being soothing to my grin and bones.” She said, “Me too, kiddo!” And that, my Luvs, is one of the things that keeps me doing things my way, while also watching how others do it: I know that different is delicious… and quite necessary for survival and living.

Speaking of doing and grinning and such (pain be damned), this will be my last blog entry for about a week or so. Later today, I start working on the story I told you about on my “Off to Write a Whisper… While Communing with Frogs” post. I will continue sharing pictures and PoemBitsbyMagaly on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter. But I shall not post here until I get back to New York City. The poem bits will focus on the story progress—from plotting to ending (since I promised it to a friend *cough*); and the photos will offer glimpses of the trip. Below, are some glimpses from our first few days:

I caught a wee frog, to see if the Little Princess would let it rest in her hand. But…
Friday Harbor (1)

the child was not convinced. So…

my Piano Man let the golden beauty sit on his sleeve…
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and hop around his hand…
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After a while, the Little Princess allowed the frog to sit on her finger for a rather quick jittery second. We might have been whispering encouraging words that spoke of cuteness and bravery and such.
Friday Harbor (4)

We’ve walked around town, enjoying visual whispers of ocean and blooms.
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At a public library sale, I bought my first books (EVER!) sold by the inch.
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I’ve watched my Piano Man’s grin as he delights in The Picture of Dorian Gray
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as he watches me through binoculars (while I’m standing three feet from him)…
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There has been much sunset enjoyment, too. Life is good…
Friday Harbor (9)

Our Fifth First Date…

Every year, on the anniversary of our first date, my Piano Man and I go on another first date. Our fifth first date arrived a month late—my health was being a jerk on the actual date…  So we waited until my tummy was stable enough for its first mildly wild eating day. When I stopped consuming many of the foods I used to eat (mostly sugary stuff, meats, dairy, wheat…), I allowed myself three special times each year for one of my favorite treats: sweet French vanilla coffee on the anniversary of my little brother’s death, Dominican cake on my birthday, ice cream and pizza on my handfasting anniversary.

We took the subway to South Ferry. The train ride lasts over an hour, so I listened to Necronomicon, by H. P. Lovecraft; and my Piano Man delighted in Good Omens, by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (I love that we enjoy the same book so much). There might have been PDA and giggling that annoyed the ghosts who shared the car with us *cough*.
Witch and Piano Man, 5th 1st Date (1)

In South Ferry, we boarded a boat to Staten Island… and took an obscene amount of selfies.
Witch and Piano Man, 5th 1st Date (2)

Then came the treats… Oh my freaking gods of gastronomical restrictions, my Wicked Luvs, I never knew ricotta cheese and olives on a hunk of dough could taste so good (after not having it for a year). And my scoop of coffee ice cream, dipped in chocolate, was orgasmic.
Witch and Piano Man, 5th 1st Date (3)

After pizza and ice cream, we walked to the place where we shared our first serious kiss. I had a conversation with a brace of ducks; my Piano Man fed a squirrel; I might have climbed a fence to pick mulberries; we walked through a graveyard; and then rested at the same spot where my love asked me to marry him—the photo in the middle… the others, starting at the top left corner, and going clockwise, are pictures from former first dates.
Witch and Piano Man, 5th 1st Date (4)

I’m completely in love with the tradition we’ve created to celebrate our love.
Do you have any personally crafted traditions you might like to share, my Wicked Luvs?
Witch and Piano Man, 5th 1st Date (5)