verge (vʉrj)
the edge, brink, or margin (of something): also used figuratively the verge of the forest, on the verge of hysteria

to tend or incline (to or toward)
to be in the process of change or transition into something else; pass gradually (into) dawn verging into daylight

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Love Story

[Don't laugh.  They're serious.]

They've been together a long time.  They are no longer madly in love.  No, better.  They're quietly in love, the kind of in-love that doesn't require ownership.  He does his thing, she does hers.  He walks along slowly and mumbles to himself about this mailbox, or that pile of leaves, while she races up ahead and back behind, always circling back to him, to check.  That's the quiet part.  Those checkpoints.  A lot goes on in a checkpoint. They're brief, but key.

I've studied this.

At dinner time, he wolfs his food and then waits over to the side while she chews each bite eighteen times, then sips a little water, and briefly admires the presentation before taking her next bite.  When she's finally finished, she looks over to him and again, that checkpoint.  Something is conveyed.  She leaves the room for who-knows-where, and he ambles over to lick her bowl clean.  She has left a little something for him.  She does every time.

One day he wanted to build a snowman.
She said sure.
When they finished his snowman, she wanted to get dressed up.
He said sure.

It didn't get any louder than that.  They each did their own thing, making some sort of quiet magic together.  I'm in love with these two. They love me back. We have our own checkpoints.

That's how I got in the picture.


  1. What a stately, refined couple. Deceptively so, I'm thinking.

    This is better than some stoopid playlist, that's fer dang sure.

  2. How can you write so accurately about my husband and me, when we've never met you? (Well, we've sort of met -- I'm Peter Wright's friend, from Facebook.)

  3. I read a few of these, and enjoyed them very much.

    Muzzle loader season will be over soon, the days will be longer and warmer. We can compare hunters orange fashion, and cow bell prefferences.

    Flash nearly killed himself injesting a peice of towel to the tune of $2500.00

    Flash saved my life. It's only fitting that I return the favor.


  4. Lori,

    Writing about it is one thing.

    Living it, as you do with your husband, is quite another. A blessing!

    I am happy to hear from you--thank you for posting.


  5. Anonymous Chad,

    So glad to hear that you both survived! Damn those tasty towels....
    You and Flash must have quite the bond. Lucky Flash, lucky you.

    Thanks for sharing.