You Think You Know Somebody...

I've been married for almost eleven years.

The other day I was on the phone with my husband discussing some grocery items. Grocery shopping is one of those territories that we strategize over like generals about to invade another country. Neither of us likes to do it, so we stack up and discharge chores hoping it will tilt the seesaw in our favor when it comes time to comparing the tally sheet entitled "Who Has Done the Most Stuff Lately."

"Cheese," I said, the obvious and latest loser in the tally. "I'll pick you up some cheese. Sharp."

Silence.

"You prefer the sharp cheese, right?"

"No."

"You don't like sharp cheese?"

"No, I like mild."

I am 100% certain he likes sharp cheddar cheese and told him so, hoping the force of my assertion would make him remember that he likes sharp cheese.  "I'm certain you told me you like sharp cheese."

"No, I wouldn't do that because I like mild."

"Are you SURE you don't like sharp cheese?"

"I'm sure."

"Have you EVER liked sharp cheese?"

"No."

"Then why would I think that?"

"I have no idea."

For years I've been buying sharp cheese for him. It's not my preference, but I don't mind eating it.  But I buy it for him because I have been certain for eleven years that it was his favorite. And I have no idea where I got that idea.  Which makes me wonder what other portions of my reality I've just made up out of thin air.

* * *

I was on the phone with a woman whose husband died a couple of years ago. There was a problem with a piece of property she was trying to sell and I was the one who was supposed to break the news to her.

"Mrs. Bannerman, your name is not on the deed to your house, only your husband's."

She said, "But he told me he'd put my name on the deed..."

"I'm so sorry, it's not on there, but it's okay -- we just have to do some extra stuff that will take longer, but it will be okay."  I did my best to be as reassuring as possible.

"Well, it shouldn't surprise me. I know that's not the only time he lied to me."

Obviously, my feeble reassurances were not going to go far to meet the needs of a wife who wanted explanations from her dead husband.

* * *

Four years ago, my niece's husband moved to our town looking for work. He was a very personable, funny, handsome guy, very good with kids. We liked him. He lived with my mother for a while and the plan was for him to get a job and then send for my niece and the children.

I have a picture of him that I took on my youngest son's first birthday. He had my son propped on one of his shoulders and he was smiling and looking up at my son. He has a brilliant, white smile. My son was laughing as he was being tickled in the side by the man who was holding him. It was a very good first birthday for my son, for all of us.

A year later, that man strangled my niece and stabbed her 26 times with two kitchen knives.

You always think you know someone.  Turns out, sometimes you're wrong.

Touching the Moon

A gibbous moon hung in the perfectly clear blue sky of a perfect late summer day, a storybook kind of day with a light breeze and a touch of autumn in the air.

"Can you see the moon?" she asked her small son as he lay on the lush green grass staring at blue nothingness. She wished for fluffy white clouds so they could lie together and name their shapes.

"I see it. Is it too high for me to touch?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"Because I tried to touch it once," she said.

She answered that way because she didn't know what else to say. But it sounded, anyway, like something she would have done as a young dreamer. She remembers wanting to skip along the tops of clouds, so why not touch the moon?

"And you couldn't do it?" he asked.

"No."

"And you cried?"

"Yes.

He stared longer at the luminous orb rising farther out of his reach and said, "I wish you never tried to touch the moon."

Favorite Things About Fall

It would be a tough battle between contenders Fall and Spring if I were forced to choose my favorite. But I'm pretty sure Fall would win out simply because it's the beginning of a long span of cool weather. As delightful as Spring is there is always the hovering menace of hot weather, the persistant presence of sunshine and, of course, tick season.

Today was the first day I really and truly felt Fall was on its way. It's cooler outside the house than in and when I opened the door to let Lucy out she paused and wasn't sure what to do. Even though her food was outside waiting for her she sensed something was off in the air and she stood in the doorway a long time pondering such an uncertain egress.  This will be her first fall season and I'm not sure she was thrilled about it.

My favorite things about Fall:

• State and county fair season!
• Cool weather (obviously)
• Fall means it's almost Halloween, my favorite holiday
• Fall means it's almost Thanksgiving, my second favorite holiday
• The trees get dressed up in their fancy colorful fineries (followed by the subsequent "getting naked" after the party's over). Those shameless hussies.
• Walking in the woods is the best in fall and winter. No ticks, no snakes and you can see the undulation of the earth through the naked trees.
• Smoke in the air from fireplaces and woodstoves.
• Knitting is way more fun in cool weather and I can break out the homemade socks and scarves!
• Mulled cider

It's funny, because Spring is supposed to be the rebirth, but somehow for me Fall is when things seem more joyous, more alive, more expansive.

What are your favorite things about Fall?