Today is history written backwards.
I often mention some names in my blog, and I thought you might like to know who these people are. My Boys are my chosen family. These guys love me, comfort me, and occasionally mock me. I love these men, and am grateful for the richness they add to my life.
Ron. I met Ron shortly after I moved to Washington, DC, over twenty-eight years ago. We started living together in 1984 in downtown Silver Spring, and have lived in Wheaton since 1989. He is a serious sweetheart. I can't imagine life without my husband, Ron. This guy is my rock.
Perry. I met Perry at a Potluck around 1991 or so. We quickly became fast friends. He later moved into our condo development, and lives across the parking lot from us with his cat, Charley. Perry is very much the Lucy to my Ethel. We often have errands to do, many of which you read about here. Perry is my inner decorator self.
Tim. In 2000, I started square dancing, and I saw this handsome guy at class. We've been seeing each other ever since, and the friendship and square dancing continue. We have lots of adventures together, usually centered around square dancing, food, or sex. Tim encourages me to be outrageous.
Brian. I met Brian at a pool party in the early 1990s. I threw myself at him, with the usual results. Brian is a musician and voice teacher (among other things). We share spiritual roots, and he was born and raised in an "I" state, so he understands corn and potatoes. Brian reminds me to be gentle, to listen.
Jerry. In 2009 (I think), Jerry pedaled across America. I met up with him in Oregon, and that spurred a renewed interest on my part in cycling. Thanks, Jerry! I hangout with Jerry when I need to stretch my legs, or when I need a gourmet meal.
Steev. I met Steev several years ago at an Affirmation picnic. Although he may not know it, Steev has started me back on the road of examining my own faith journey. I'm grateful for the continuing dialogue that he and I have about faith, mind, heart, and sex. They are sometimes difficult, but always rewarding.
I love these guys.
When I was a kid, mold was a bad thing.
Not a white rind on cheese
Not a blue vein, but a bad thing.
The slab of bacon leans against
the side of the fridge
white and blue flecked with gray
not a bad thing, just mold-covered.
Like cheese. I paid too much for it.
So I'll eat it, risking stomach cancer
rather than throw it out.
Mold is not a bad thing.
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