We visited Peru a few years back and made two stops in Cusco. At 13,000 feet it takes your breath away. Then there’s the mountains above Cusco; higher and mightier. At the end of our stay we had the lungs to hike the hills and got above the city.
The fog played around Machu Picchu, sometimes obscuring it and sometimes framing it.
This is in response to the daily prompt: Tell us your funniest relationship disaster story.
I would hardly call her third rate. We’ve been married 29 years. We have two sons and a grand daughter on the way. We have a full life, we’re still in love. But it did not start that way. It almost didn’t start.
I was visiting friends in San Francisco, May 1983, to house warm their new home. It was a wonderful flat in the Richmond District, with bay windows, wood floors, and a garage. I was planning to meet a specific woman, Maria, whom our host thought I would enjoy. She arrived with a female friend in tow. My former house mate Rob showed up at that moment, perhaps with a drink or two under his belt.
“Tommy, Tommy” (he’s one of maybe three people on the planet who call me Tommy)”This is Donna, this is Donna. She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.”
Donna had beautiful green eyes, a big smile, and seemed pleased to meet me. I thought she was beautiful but was quickly bewildered by two women and a matchmaker friend. I excused myself to get a snack, and caught Donna’s eye on the way down the hall. She smiled. I told the hosts I wasn’t feeling well, and left.
Rob called, a few days later, and sang me happy birthday. He was sure I’d really like Donna, and gave me her phone number. I held the number for a day or two then gave her a call. We planned our first date.
The day before I got married in 1986, my brother who was also my best man, went surfing with me. It was a glorious day at Waddel Creek, a few miles north of Santa Cruz, CA. The sky was blue, the wind gently offshore. The waves were moderate and well formed. We caught lots.
It didn’t occur to me, when I took a toilet break and had the runs, that I shouldn’t have been in the water to start, and it was clearly time to get out. But there was surf and my favorite surf partner was with me, if only for one short outing. So I continued, as my throat felt more ragged, as my lungs started to warm toward a burn.
This past week, some 29 years later, I was fighting a cold. It’s been nagging since I returned home from our three week east coast swing back in October. The waves here have been huge. Way too big for me, but on Tuesday it settled down. I hit the surf, caught a couple of little waves and felt unusually fatigued. But there were still waves so I stayed out. The tide was receding, the offshore wind increasing, and when I finally decided to quit, it was difficult to paddle in. I managed to find the shore and stumbled to my car.
Today my cold is much worse. My body is begging for rest. But I have one more thing to do before I can take a break.
The ocean is big today. It was bigger yesterday. The water is a good 10 degrees colder than it was in September. Fall is here. Winter is coming. I’ve been fighting a bug which has kept me from the water. But I still need a fix to overcome my hopeless addiction to the ocean’s charm. Whether it’s a walk on the beach or making a short video of the current conditions, it’s all about the ocean, its size, its smell, its moods.
Well, yes I believe I am. So does Debbie M. Lewis who nominated me for the Versatile Blogger Award because she’s enjoyed my posts. I checked out the other names she’d selected and was impressed by their work. Continue reading →