Love story 88 – Saying ‘I love you’
Such a dangerous thing to say when embarking (or trying to) on a romantic relationship.
“I love you.”
And there are so many ways of saying it:
“I love you [despite the fact that you are a selfish pig and a worm and the worst thing that ever happened to me and I hate your guts too].”
Clarification note: the stuff in the square bracketts is what might be thought but not actually spoken.
“I love you” mustn’t be said wistfully, plaintively, longingly or hesitantly. The hesitant “I love you” is something to avoid at all costs because it can produce a really loooooooooooooong pause from the recipient, or else they might suddenly have to go to the loo.
“I love you [and I know it is going to take you some time to digest this because you really are a bit thick].”
The first time I uttered these dangerous words to Anthony I was about 18 and he was 41 and I was helping him deliver a calf. In retrospect, this was probably rather bad timing. Also I couldn’t quite get the words beyond a whisper but he must have heard because he looked at me askance as the calf slipped out.
After that tentative attempt, I didn’t say “I love you” again for a year or so and then, in my 20s I couldn’t seem to stop saying it to him. But the first time he properly heard me, his face went pale, his knees quivered and his big muscly body tensed as if I had attacked him with some sort of foreign weapon.
Well, as many of you know, it all worked out. Anthony threw more “I love yous” at me than I could possibly digest before we finally got married.
And now?
Every night, when I ring him at the nursing lodge to say goodnight, it is the last thing we both say to each other.
I LOVE YOU
Thank you, Nia!
As many of you know, Nia, who lives in Turkey, and who I only know via the blogosphere, handmade me four pillow covers and posted them to me a little while ago – a gift! I found some filling and took one in for Anthony at the nursing lodge. Today I finally remembered to take a couple of pictures of it.
I have bought Nia four little Australian things which, as soon as I have found where I put them, I will post off to her to say thank you. Here is her site but I realize many of you already know this wonderful woman.
Anthony loves the pillow, but said, a bit sadly, “It’s too good to be in here.”
“But you’re here,” I said.
“I know,” he said, stroking Nia’s pillow gently.
“Stop this nonsense,” I said, picking up the pillow and smacking him lightly on the head with it.
He actually smiled!
Thank you, Nia.
Blogging IS writing!
Last November I began this blog because I wanted to catapult myself into writing again. That was my simple, initial reason. Since then I haven’t missed a single day; in fact I have overdone it on some days with too many posts. But what the hell – blogging got me writing again. Not only that, I actually accumulated a few friends (that was totally unexpected!) and discovered a fascinating community. When I began the blog I wasn’t looking for friends or a community or anything really; I just wanted to write so that is what I think I am doing here – writing.
It took me awhile to realize that blogging is a reciprocal thing. I didn’t understand what ‘likes’ and ‘comments’ were to begin with. Then, when I began to explore other people’s blogs I was amazed, touched, and fascinated by all of this wonderful writing that I didn’t know was there. In the last few months I have learned more about photography, art, music, history, geography, poetry, illness, health, inspiration, pain and friendship than I ever learned at university!
But back to my point; I have noticed that some bloggers differentiate between their blogging and their writing. I tried to do this but failed – ie. I tried to plonk my love story into a separate blog because in my mind I thought that would be my writing blog and this would be my blogging blog. It didn’t take me long to realize that any blogging IS writing.
Golden Valley update
Yesterday, two women from the Balingup Historical Society came to visit Anthony in the nursing lodge. The first photo is of Helen with Anthony and the second is of Carol with Anthony. It took me an incredibly long time to achieve the bad lighting in the first picture and the blurriness in the second – ha! Oh well at least I have a bit of a record of what was a couple of hours of pure pleasure.
Together, we established that, in amongst that massive box of photos, there were sixteen of Golden Valley from when Anthony was a boy. Unfortunately he isn’t in any of these photos but some of the trees he planted are. It was the loveliest visit, with lots of laughs as Anthony kept referring to his first girlfriend who still lives in Balingup.
Each and every photo provoked a little story, memory, date and it was such a fantastic experience for me/us to meet these two dedicated woman who are so keen to preserve this history. If I wore a hat, I would take it off for them.
Thankyou, Carol and Helen for making Anthony’s day unforgettable!
History in the making?
Background: Oldest dairy in Western Australia.
Foreground: Youngest beard in Western Australia.
Wings
Tonight one of my blogging friends emailed me a photograph just for me. I had asked him if I could have one of his thousands of bird photographs and I had even chosen a few possibilities. You see I didn’t want to simply ‘steal’ one which is easy enough to do with the internet.
But he sent me a personalized one and he hasn’t even put this photograph on his blog yet, so I think I am the first to see it. It even has my name on it. It is difficult to describe how much this photograph of a bird with its wings holding it up, and a cheeky expression on its face, has rendered me dust-free and reminded me that when I first began this haphazard blog, it was all about wings.
I thought of maybe inserting this photograph here but no way – not now. Now, it is just mine!
Thank you, Tom.
Gelotology – the study of laughter
Today I discovered that I am just as skilled at laughing as I am at crying, so I googled ‘laughing’ and found another new word!
Today I told Anthony that I had rung the taxi company to get the money back for the unnecessary second trip yesterday and we would be reimbursed, but all he could say was, “I didn’t like the way that taxi driver put his arm around you.” I couldn’t stop laughing.
Today I wrote a blogpost about being nagged by Ming, our 18-year-old son and the first thing he said when he got home from music school was, “What’s this dirt on the carpet? You came inside with your boots on didn’t you.” I couldn’t stop laughing.
Today, one of our roosters, Tina Turner, who has taken over the whole chook harem, attacked me more viciously than ever before when I went to feed the hens. He drew blood! Well, I kicked him in self-defense and he somersaulted in the air. I couldn’t stop laughing (it’s okay, he is fine as you can see – he loves to dance on that table!)
Today I rang the guy who has repaired our nearly dead ute (truck) and explained why we still hadn’t picked it up and he started singing a refrain from that song ‘Julie, Julie, Julie, do you love me?’
I couldn’t stop laughing!
jmgoyder 