Satyrdaz Wandering Thoughts

I’m infatuated with the expression, “It’s really raining.” It’s like we were challenging the assertion that rain is falling. “No, no, it’s really raining.” In this context, though, ‘it’s really raining’ means precipitation is falling at a heavy level.

Anyway, accompanied by my floofguard, I came in from the covered patio and traveled through the house to where my wife was sitting in the snug. “It’s really raining,” I said.

“I know. I told you that a few minutes.”

“Really? I didn’t hear you. It must have ricocheted off my ear without getting to my brain.”

“You weren’t in the room. I don’t know where you were. I said it twice, thinking that you might pick it up.”

“Well, I didn’t.” I shook my head. “I guess reception was bad.”

Saturda’s Wandering Thoughts

My wife doesn’t want me to mop the hardwood floors. I asked for feedback: “Why?”

“You don’t do a good job.”

I was insulted. But, the craftiness in me decided, well, that means that she will always mop the floor.

On the other hand, she admits that I do a much better job cleaning the stainless steel kitchen appliances. Although, she notes, she thinks that I’m “a little obsessive” about having it streak free.

It all works out. I do those items, and she does the floor, and we’re both happy.

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

After knowing one another for 53 years and being married almost 50, my wife still surprises and confuses me with some of her decisions.

I have no doubt that she’d say the same thing about me.

The Dream of Getting Lost

This dream began with my wife naked in front of me. She was on her knees in a room when I walked in. We flirted and I began kissing her and nibbling her ear lobes. She said, “Let’s move this into the other room.” Aroused and ready, I agreed.

We went into the other room, which was the living room. She said, “I’ll be right back.”

While she was gone, I stripped off my clothes. When she returned, she was fully dressed and had two other women with her. I knew both of them.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

My wife replied, “My book club is arriving.”

Well, that took me aback but I didn’t feel like now was the time to discuss it. Discreetly, I made my way out.

Dressing in the other room, I took off through the local area. It turned out to be a village built on several hills thick with pine and oak trees. The roads were narrow and winding, but I was enjoying my walk.

Going up a steep hill, I found a huge border of tall, trimmed bushes. Slipping through them, I discovered myself at a palatial estate.

A young boy approached. He seemed like he was ten years old. We briefly tossed a baseball back and forth. He told me that this was his house and invited me in to see it. “It’s like a museum,” he finished.

My curiousity had grown. The house presented a huge, jumbled, modern appearance of arches and glass, with multiple types of materials finishing the facade, complementing the many large, dark windows.

I entered the house with him. The boy was right; the first room we entered was tall and broad. Art and aniquities filled the space. Walking around, I gawked at art pieces. Several were Picasso pieces, from the cubist and blue periods. I was astounded to find them in a house in a small village and thought the people who owned the property must be very wealthy.

The boy who was my host had left. Nervous about being alone there, I was accosted by a woman coming down a large spiral staircase. Brunette, slender, not tall, and very attractive, she wore blue jeans and a red top. She seemed to be about the same age as me.

“Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

I explained why I was there. Her son came down and verified my story. Nervous, I decided to leave. She protested that I didn’t need to leave. We began walking around, looking at art and antiques. Standing very close to me, she told about how they came to own the pieces. Acting on impulse, I kissed her.

I prepared to be slapped or rush out, and apologize. In response, she took my hand behind a screen and kissed me. I was both excited and worried. She kept leading me into nooks and niches, kissing me and encouraging my advances.

Then her son said, “Hi, Dad.”

I was horrified that the woman’s husband was with us. Dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, he was silver haired with black streaks, slightly taller than myself, and a few years older.

The woman introduced me to him. I thought any dalliance with the woman was over, but she continued leading me to secluded places, where we made out with teenagers. I saw the husban suspiciously eyeing me. Not wanting a confrontation, I left.

The wife caught up with me outside and gave me her number, asking me to call her so we can meet and finish what we started. I was dubious. The whole thing was crazy. I left her without promising anything but kept the number, sticking it into a pocket.

Darkened skies had taken over while I inside. Now going up another hill past throngs of people shopping in many small shops and boutiques, I remembered that a book store was up the hill and headed there to buy a book for my wife. After chatting with the owner, I purchased the book and headed down another stretch of hill. It was later and darker, and I wasn’t sure where I was. Thinking I knew a shortcut, I took a few turns.

I ended up completely lost in a maze of small white shops along an alley. Big raindrops began striking me and splattering along the ground. Stopping at a bakery, I bought pastries for me and my wife. The rain intensified while I was in the bakery. As I opened the door to leave, the shopkeeper urged me to stay inside until the rain stopped.

I declined. Going out, I was quickly drenched. I still didn’t know where I was and kicked myself for not asking for directions at the bakery. I kept going, though, believing that I would find my way. It didn’t help that the sun was behind clouds, and the rain was so thick that I couldn’t see far.

Then, unexpectedly, I saw two trees and knew where I was. Seeing my house, I hurried to the covered front porch. Sopping wet, I stood on the porch, ate a pastry, and watched the rain as dusk heralded night’s entrance.

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

My wife said, “I’m going to wear my blue sweater that I wore the other day, but I think you can see through it in the sunlight.”

I answered, “You can.”

“You could see through it?”

“Yes.”

“You could see through it but you chose not to say anything?”

“You’re very fashion aware. It’s a loose knit sweater. I thought you knew.”

Eyes rolling, throwing her hands up, she stormed off. I shrugged, guessing, I must be the asshole for not saying anything, and then reflecting on the entire process one more time.

We didn’t stay angry long; after being together for over fifty-two years as friends and everything else, we don’t stay angry. Act out or vent, move on. She came out, ready to go. She wasn’t wearing the blue sweater in question but a light blue sweater. I said, sincerely, “You look nice.”

She grinned at me. “Not see through?”

“Totally opaque,” I replied.

Roberferghen

He came into the kitchen and watched her as she flitted from counter to counter, cupboard to pantry, collecting ingredients and utensils. The oven was on. He wondered what she was baking. “What’d you say about Roberferghen?”

She flashed him a quizzical look. “Who? What?”

“Just now. I was in the other room and you said something about Roberferghen several times.”

“What’s Roberferghen?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I came in to find out.”

Picking up a measuring cup, she sifted flour into it and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What were you just saying?”

“When?”

“Just now, before I came in here?”

Shaking her head, she poured the flour into a bowl. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Her tone made it clear that the topic was closed. Turning, he sighed and left.

Now he’d never know what Roberferghen is.

In Fits.

The start

seeing

noticing

talking

flirting

friendship

lust

sex

love

trust

The relationship

trust

sex

love

support

compatibility

complacency

ennui

questions

regrets

The decisions

disagreements

betrayal

anger

arguments

fights

threats

tears

compromise

counseling

separating

praying

choices

The end

together

apart

resigned

accepting

hopeful

dismissive

optimistic

pessimistic

loving

trusting

hoping

Death.

 

 

 

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