Hubby and I celebrated our 19th anniversary this week. In just about seven months I will hit the point in my life where I will have been married longer than I was single. If you are doing the math, yes, I was a young bride. Well, youngish, anyway. Not ridiculously young. But still young. Hubby was not quite as young as I was. He’s still got several years until he can say that he’s been married longer than he was single.
We enjoyed dinner out at a favorite restaurant, a restaurant where I always leave feeling like a snake that ate a giant pig. (In other words, so stuffed that I need to just go lie down somewhere for a few weeks to let everything digest.) Eldest daughter went along. The other two wanted to stay home. We picked up a couple of movies from the video store: Secret Life of Pets to enjoy with the kiddos and Spectre (A James Bond movie) to enjoy ourselves. It was lights out for me near the end of Secret Life of Pets. Eldest admonished me for my inability to stay awake. I fear I am turning into my parents. I seem to recall them nodding off every time we would sit down to watch a movie. It used to greatly annoy me as a kid. In my defense, though, some lights had been dimmed and I was tired from a morning workout with that dreadful Jillian Michaels DVD that involves too many push-ups, a five mile ride on the exercise bike, and a cross country ski trip around the neighborhood in frigid temps in the afternoon. I caught a few winks after Secret Life of Pets and rallied enough to make it through about half of the Bond movie.
Speaking of being sleepy…or, rather, things that make you sleepy…
Finish #90 was not the most exhilarating thing I’ve read this year. 19 Varieties of Gazelle by Naomi Shihab Nye was a book of poems of the Middle East. I’m not a huge poetry fan. I used to enjoy writing it as a teenager, but I never really enjoyed reading others poems. I always found them confusing. I always got a different meaning out of them than my English teachers did in high school. Take Robert Frost’s poem about the road less traveled and how taking that road made all the difference. So…I, from my background of reading the Bible and attending church, felt that Frost was in a good place for taking the road less traveled. You know that bit in the Bible that says, “But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:14) Yeah, I felt that taking the road less traveled was a good thing. Not so, according to my 11th and 12th grade Advanced English instructor with the heavily droopy eyelids that made her look like she was always sleeping while standing up. Frost was apparently depressed about taking the road less traveled. Apparently he should have traveled the busy road with everyone else. Who knows. Does it really matter? I’ll get what I get out of a writing. You get what you get out of a writing.
But enough of that mini-rant. (Do you get the sense that I have some unresolved issues about that English class and that English teacher all these years later? Welcome to my head, where all manner of things get revisited for years on end!) Back to 19 Varieties of Gazelle, which often left me puzzled, scratching my head (not literally, because I wouldn’t want someone to think I’ve got lice or fleas or a strange skin condition), wondering if it was just a cultural thing that kept me from understanding the majority of the poems.
To be fair, there were a few that I did enjoy. There was one about olives. I liked that one. Probably because I like olives. (Which is strange, as I only became a fan of them this year.) I also especially liked on titled “The Clean Rinse.” The first lines state, “Each time you go through this you lose a little less color.” The last lines say, “after awhile, you will have nothing more they can take.” I got that poem.