Category: Marriage

Life with Our “Cabin on Wheels”

by pearlsofpauline, posted in Airstream, Life, Marriage, Travel

I pulled into our spot at Circle B, the little RV park where we stay in Greer. The Airstream was waiting for me, beckoning. There was a huge pile of lumber and materials delivered by Home Depot in Show Low for our new deck, a storage shed, and a ‘catio’ for the kitties. The place looked like a lumber yard.

Gene and a neighbor were assembling the storage shed. There were no written instructions, just pictures of all the parts, the tools needed, and steps to take. The thing weighs 300 pounds and has more pieces than you can count. The wind was blowing, but it was manageable.

Gene and Rich assembled three sides and the four corners of the shed, and were starting on the roof. Last would come the two front doors.

The front roof panel was just high enough that the guys both needed to be up on ladders; it looked like an old-fashioned barn-raising! Except this barn was in no hurry to be raised. When one end of the front roof panel snapped into place, the other popped off. Try as they might, they could not get the panel securely in place.

Gene put in a call to Rubbermaid, and waited patiently for at least 30 minutes. When he finally got someone, they were useless. He tried the hotline, and was told he needed to send a video of the roof end popping off. Really? How are you supposed to get a video unless you have at least three people? Rich had gone home to his trailer for dinner. We called it quits.

The next morning, we had breakfast with people from church who have moved to Greer. It was fun hearing about their full-time involvement in our little summer community. When we got back to Circle B, we found the storage shed on the ground. The wind had picked it up and thrown it down! Three neighbors had seen the disaster and had come over to stack and weigh down the lighter pieces.

Gene got back on the phone and got some coaching on the roof. He watched a YouTube video. He went online and read comments from others who had put this particular storage shed together. He decided to give it another go. He took the advice of the Rubbermaid guy, and took the whole thing apart and then, turning a piece of the roof on its pointy head, attempted to attach it to the top of one the walls, which are seven feet high. No way.

Rich was leaving for Phoenix, but I offered to help, and Gene knew the drill this time, so it went together pretty easily. We had the three sides done, and while I was holding them, Gene turned to get a tool and bam! The wine blew the whole thing down! Time to call it another day.

Gene finally found someone at Rubbermaid who knew his stuff, and Vicky and Terry down the way offered to come by the next morning and help us try again. It was supposed to be calm. The four of us got the shed nearly finished. We bolstered it on all sides and went to dinner at Molly Butler’s.

We got home and all was well. Except Gene noticed that it was cold inside the trailer, and the temperature was due to drop to 37º that night. He discovered that the second propane tank, which the dealership had assured us was full (the gauge had been removed), was empty! We got into our warmest pj’s, put on wool socks, and with two extra blankets on top, slipped under the covers. We lay there wondering if we had bad karma, when Gene had a stroke of genius: he would go next door and borrow a tank from our deceased neighbor, Bob. (For those of you who follow my blog, Bob’s the guy in the story from last May whose wife whispered to me, “Now, don’t be pickin’ on your man.”) Bob died late last year of lung cancer, and his family has left the trailer in its spot, just paying the rent.

It was pitch black outside and getting colder by the minute. We put on our slippers, bundled up, and went next door. I held the flashlight, while Gene took the cover off the propane tanks and carefully lifted one out of the holder and laid it down. He replaced the cover and home we went, where he removed our empty one and replaced it with Bob’s full one. It worked like a charm, and we slept like babies.

The next morning, Gene took all three tanks to Springerville, filled them, and returned Bob’s tank to its proper place. We said a prayer of thanks to Bob, of course.

Gene finished the storage shed today, and life is good again.

An Epiphany

by pearlsofpauline, posted in Flexibility, Lessons, Marriage, Nature, Relationships, Retirement, Secrets, Travel

Last September 29, we returned home from two magical weeks in Greer, Arizona. We had spent the latter part of May camping there in our 21′ travel trailer, and looked forward to returning in the fall to enjoy some fly-fishing.

Two years before, when we bought our second travel trailer, we took it out twice before winter hit. Months went by and the Winnebago Micro Minnie sat in storage. Then in February of 2020, just as the world began to close down, ours opened up. The trailer became our magic carpet to welcoming places during a scary time.

We fished the reservoirs at Dead Horse Ranch in Cottonwood, returning in March to do it again. April was spent in Payson, exploring Christopher Creek, Lower Christopher Creek, and Upper Christopher Creek, all peaceful and inviting. And for the first time, I caught a trout unassisted. Yes, I picked the area along the creek, selected and tied on the fly, spotted the trout, cast, and caught the fish! To me this was a big deal.

In May, we took the trailer up to Show Low, and stayed on a horse farm. Son Dave and family came up from Pinetop one day, and the adults got to ride a tractor for the first time! Gene and I fished Show Low Lake and Show Low Creek, both beautiful spots.

Later in May, we took the trailer to Page Springs and rendezvoused with our youngest, Katie, and her family. We played Zingo with the three little ones at our picnic table, fished Oak Creek, saw a blue heron and a vermilion flycatcher, walked the Black Hawk Trail at Bubbling Ponds Preserve and Hatchery, and went wine-tasting at D.A. Ranch Winery in Cornville.

In June, we were back in Greer. Dave and his family came over from Pinetop to hike along the Little Colorado and have dinner at Molly Butler’s. While there, a whole herd of deer came strolling down the hill to the children’s playground next to Molly’s!

Later in June, daughter Katie and family brought their pop-up trailer to Greer, to the space right next to ours. There’s nothing like having your grandchildren at your trailer door first thing in the morning. It makes your heart sing!

So, 2020 flew by, and though we couldn’t be with all the family in person, we were with some of them, and we were fishing, hiking, birding, and just being, safe as possible from COVID-19. And I’m deeply grateful.

This past year, we left the trailer in storage, except for three trips: Page Springs in April, Greer in May, and this last one to Greer again, in September. For that one, we had reserved our favorite spot at a small RV park above the highway. We got settled, and took a deep breath, awestruck by the pine-dotted meadow, golden with wildflowers. I set out the hummingbird feeder and the wild bird seed, and within minutes, the birds came to feast: Rufous Hummers, juncos, sparrows, finches, towhees, woodpeckers, Steller’s Jays, red-winged blackbirds, Black-headed Grosbeaks, and more. A Cooper’s Hawk sat on the fence rail, watching and waiting. And later, an owl swooped across our trailer rooftop! And the chipmunks! Smart and amusing, they scampered across the fence railing, jumping on the feeder tray, then down to the ground to eat the seed spilling from the swaying dinner plate. 

We fished Big Lake with the inimitable guide Cinda Howard in her beautiful wooden boat, and learned a great deal about casting in the wind. And we fished Luna Lake, and caught a bunch of Cutthroat Trout.

It was a beautiful trip.

But getting to this point was not easy; trailering is a lot of work. And the older you get, the harder the work becomes. Backing into your spot at the end of a long drive, for example, can be a major frustration, even though we have a pretty good system, because every guy within running distance wants to “help” and share his technique. Then it’s time to make sure your baby is straight, so you don’t have trouble walking around inside or sleeping. And then there are the hook-ups, which provide extra electricity, unlimited water, and sewer service.

While Gene is getting us situated, I usually unpack the car, put things away, make the bed, and get dinner ready. And after a glass of wine, life is good again. We were glad to be there. Fall in Greer is spectacular!

But when it was time to leave, it was hook-up time. And when your man has to use a long metal lever to lift the stabilizer bars up and into position, and then jump up and down on them to get them to lock in, and then, after washing up, climb into the driver’s seat and drive you home through some pretty difficult passages, well…. let’s just say we had an epiphany coming home: we’ve finished this chapter in our lives.

We will continue to travel, but not pulling a trailer, at least not often. And since I’ve always wanted an Airstream, Gene came up with the brilliant idea of buying one and leaving it up in Greer. And we can continue to fish, hike and bird, but it will be a lot easier in a 30-footer with a bed that stays made, closet space, and room to cook. And we can just drive up and back, and not fuss with anything. It’ll be like having a cabin without all the details.

It’s been a lovely adventure, exploring Arizona in a trailer. But we’re 73 now, and it’s time to get real. And that means tweaking the way we travel. We don’t have to give up being embedded in nature; we just need to get there differently. Key takeaway: “Be flexible; it keeps you in the game.”

And to my young friends who are looking forward to retirement and doing something similar, I hope you’re asking yourselves, “What am I waiting for?”

Epilogue: It took three months to find our “dream cabin on wheels,” but last week we drove to Las Vegas and bought a 2016 30’ Airstream Flying Cloud. The dealership is delivering it on January 17th. We’ll store it in Mesa, Arizona, until May, then take it to Greer. Yes, we’re thrilled!

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Lessons Learned from a Nasty Vacation

by pearlsofpauline, posted in Marriage, Relationships

We had planned this summer to take our trailer to Greer, Arizona, for the month of June. But we heard that the fishing would be lousy, and thought we’d go to San Diego instead, and take the kitties.

Have you ever tried to rent a place that says, “Pets Welcome,” with two cats? People hear the word “cats,” and literally hang up on you! So, the best situation we could find was a converted garage in La Jolla for three weeks. And it didn’t go well.

The refrigerator was smaller than the one in our trailer, so Gene walked several blocks each day to get us ice for the cooler. Our bar was set up on the floor behind the entry door.

You could not turn around in the bathroom. And the toilet was so close to the pedestal sink that our knees were under it.

The washer and dryer were in the owner’s back yard. We had to check with him to use them; then, arms full of dirty clothes, we made our way through two gates (and closed them behind us, so the dog wouldn’t get out), opened the double doors to the machines, stepped up on a platform, and tried not to drop anything on the ground below.

Then there was the furniture: When you sat on the couch, you sat almost on the floor, and you could feel the support bars under you. And the dining table was a card table with two folding chairs. The place was perfect for a 20-something single surfer.

The poor cats had no place to run and play, and that lack of space, combined with a skylight right over our bed, meant they woke us at the crack of dawn, ready to eat and be petted.

After a week, we’d had it. We both looked for something in San Diego, hoping there would be owners whose renters had fallen through, and were desperate, read: would take cats. After two weeks, Gene expanded our search, and found a charming little house in San Clemente, so we moved up there for the last week.

Our two-week nightmare got me thinking how lucky we are to be able to get through such an experience still liking each other! And some observations emerged as to why our marriage works. As in any friendship, fairness and reciprocity are important. If one person does most of the giving, resentment is sure to follow.

Here are the keys to our ability to stay happy together:

Empathy — the process that allows us to feel what others are feeling. Gene and I can share each other’s feelings most of the time. and have learned each other’s signals. If he gets grumpy and speaks very softly, as if it’s too much work to talk in a normal tone, I know his back is hurting, or he needs a protein fix or sex. 😊 If I’m giving him the silent treatment, he knows my feelings are hurt, and looks for ways to say, “I’m sorry. I was a jerk.”

Fairness – the idea that things are equal. If he cooks, I do the dishes and vice versa. Household chores are divided equally. He takes care of the garbage, the kitties, vacuuming, and spraying for bugs. And he pays for cleaning every other week. I handle the deep cleaning, keeping the place tidy, the gardening, and yard work. When it comes to birthdays and Christmas, we try to spend the same amount on each of our five kids, their spouses, and our 10 grandchildren. Same goes for pictures on the refrigerator and around the house: equal representation to the extent possible. As to personal toys: if he wants to buy a 1948 Chevy truck, he uses his own money; if I want to buy expensive rugs or take my kids on a special trip, I use my own money.

Speaking of finances, they can be a challenge, especially when a monk is married to a sucker for packaging. We have separate and joint investment and checking accounts and budgets for our separate and joint needs. We’ve been doing that for 20 years, and it works most of the time. We also try to consult each other before making purchases that will impact both of us.

Allowing for differences — He’s an introvert; I’m an ambivert, meaning I love people, but need alone time to recharge. We are opposites on the Myers-Briggs Personality Inventory, and he’s a 1 on the Enneagram, while I’m a 2. You get the picture: we need to give each other permission to be who we are. And at the same time, we try to spend time together traveling, wine-tasting, fishing, hiking, taking walks, and watching TV. Otherwise, what’s the point of being married?

And when it comes to expressing our love for each other, his “language of love” is acts of service. He shows me he cares by making sure I have the things that are important to me, and by lending me a hand, sometimes literally, when Parkinson’s makes my life difficult. He has an amazing way of being there without hovering or making me feel weak. I try to give him my undivided attention (even when it’s not a subject of interest, like trailer systems) and let him be in charge of things that are important to him, like our finances.  

There’s another thing that gets us through the tough times: not only do we love each other, we love holding each other and having sex. And although the physical challenges presented to two 73-year-olds can be daunting, they’re not insurmountable. 😊

So, as we enter our 21st year together, it’s with the knowledge that even though we sometimes screw up, we know how to make ourselves and each other happy. And that means being true to ourselves and letting each other be who they are, too.

Don’t Be Pickin’ on Your Man

by pearlsofpauline, posted in Lessons, Marriage, Relationships

I got married the first time at age 20. My husband, George, and I moved to Seattle, George’s hometown, the following year. George’s parents were big fans of a psychologist named John Boyle. They invited all six of their children and their spouses to a John Boyle weekend, in the hope it would help us all to be good spouses and, if we had children, good parents.

That weekend I learned about two life-changing psychological concepts, the power of affirmations, i.e. positive self-messaging, and the importance of self-determination.

Throughout the John Boyle weekend, between interesting workshops on communication, etc., we worked on our own goals and made a tape of affirmations that we were to listen to each day. The one I remember moat clearly was, “I am completely self-determined, and I allow others the same right.” What does that mean? It means that your spouse and children are not an extension of you; they are their own people with their separate right to determine their own destiny.

I have practiced affirmations for years, but I still haven’t mastered the one I learned from John Boyle in the 70s, that “I am completely self-determined, and I allow others the same right.”

And here’s how I know that.

Fast forward 40 years. My second husband, Gene, and I bought a little travel trailer last February, just in time for the pandemic. We “camped” all over Arizona from March through November, feeling incredibly lucky that we could travel, fish, hike, and birdwatch, thanks to our travel trailer. Last summer, we discovered a little RV park in Greer, Arizona.

We’re back this year, and the couple who rents the space next to us year-round has been coming here for years from Laveen, in south-central Phoenix. Bob is a scruffy guy in his 80s, an avid bait fisherman, with a cute sense of humor and a twinkle in his eye. His wife, Darlene, is a quiet, kind woman, who invites you into their RV and shares their Bag Balm when you complain about how dry your hands are. We lead very different lives, but that hasn’t prevented us from becoming friendly.

So, Sunday night, when we arrived and re-introduced ourselves. We talked about fishing, and it didn’t seem to bother them that we were fly fishermen, “catch and release people,” even though Bob is a bait guy, who catches and cleans his fish and then gives them away because they don’t like to eat them. We got to talking about cooking, and Bob told us about his beef chili, which he makes from left-over steak that he freezes after family parties, when there’s “a good three pounds of beautiful steak left over.” Before we knew it, he had given Darlene the signal, and she disappeared into their RV and came out with a container of Bob’s frozen chili – enough for a meal for Gene and me!

Now to Gene, who is smart, thoughtful, a successful businessman, a great money manager and investor, a “Mr. Fix-it”, and a funny guy, once you “get” his dry wit. He’s also handsome and sexy and loves me deeply.

So, what’s the problem? I’m the problem. I fuss over Gene, fixing his hair, suggesting outfits different from the one he’s chosen, treating him like a Ken doll instead of the unique and wonderful individual he is. He hates it when I do that, and I know it, but can’t seem to help myself.

Now the point of my story is that it took our neighbor from the trailer park to help me see what I’ve been doing. the other day, Gene came out of our trailer to join the conversation Darlene and I were having with Bob, who was sitting in his truck all excited about the fish he had caught. Gene had been napping after a long day of driving, boating, and fly fishing, and his hair was everywhere. I was a little embarrassed, and I leaned over and whispered to Darlene, “Yep, he’s been napping.” And she said to me, “Now don’t be pickin’ on your man.”

That really got my attention. And I thought to myself, “Darlene is onto something. I am lucky to have this man in my life. Why do I care if his hair looks funny? It’s his hair, not mine. Same with his clothes. When he wants my opinion, he asks me. I need to take him as he is and be grateful. Besides, it’s not about hair… or shirts, or shoes, or any of that. We simply shouldn’t criticize the people we love.”

So, I came away from that encounter with two ahas: 1) I need to allow others, especially my husband, the right to be self-determined, and stop “pickin’ on my man,” and 2) when it comes to the people in our lives, the important thing isn’t how we’re dressed, how we talk, what we read, what we believe, even. What’s important is how we treat each other, and that goes double for those closest to us.

P.S. Bob’s chili is amazing!

Time to Focus

by pearlsofpauline, posted in COVID-19, Focus, Friends, Girlfriends, Gratefulness, Marriage, Writing

COVID-19 is getting old. And experts agree that bringing it under control may take until the end of next year. In the meantime, I’m trying to find the good in it while being mindful of those who are sick or have lost a loved one or their job.

Most of the good from COVID-19 is a result of having more time to focus, to pay attention, to listen, to do one thing at a time.

I’m finishing books. I have a habit of starting books, geting two or three going at once, and then, because other activities come along, not finishing them. But I get interrupted less often lately, and the stack is going down. I’m reading more and for longer periods before I need to give my attention to another task.

I realized some time ago that the ability to focus is one of the advantages men have over the rest of us. It’s in their DNA. Since man walked the earth, he was a provider, a hunter, a protector, and those things require focus.

Women, on the other hand, bear the progeny, and kids make things messy and disorganized. So, it’s in our DNA to multi-task. We can nurse a baby while cooking, watching two other children, and talking on the phone.

But jobs get done better when there’s focus. So, the trick is to focus on those things worth doing. COVID-19 has kept my life simpler and with the added time, given me the clarity to do the things worth doing and let the others go.

Gene is reading for fun! He has never been that kind of a reader. Reading, for him, has always been something you needed to do – for school, for work, for getting something done. Reading was practical. Because we’re stuck at home, he has begun to read for the pure pleasure of it. And in true masculine style, he sticks with one book for several days until it’s finished. Reading books gives us something to talk about besides cars, trailers, air conditioners, and fishing. And it’s fun to hear him laughing at a passage or to listen to him read me something.

I’m writing with a sense of purpose. Facebook has been an outlet for my writing, but you can’t develop good stories or interesting ideas in just one or two paragraphs. Hence, my blog, which, at my daughter’s suggestion, I started on April 3rd. This is Blog Number 22!

There’s a lot involved. Selecting the topic is the toughest part of the process. Then there’s the writing and research, the organizing, the rewrites, the editing, and the adding of media. And I can’t omit the platform, which is like learning a new language, a clunky one, at best. All this is good brain exercise and keeps me from flitting from one activity to the next.

Gene and I are walking again. I can’t attend my exercise programs, so walking has been a lifesaver — if we get up early enough to beat the heat. We talk when we walk, and it’s a helpful way to touch base on our projects or just run things by each other.

I have a friend who says that men will do anything if it’s outside. I think that theory has some merit. Think about it: he doesn’t want to cook, ask him to grill; he doesn’t offer to help with the cleaning, ask him to blow off the patio and hose it down; he doesn’t communicate, go for a walk and try to get a word in.

Good friends are calling, and I’m calling them. We can give each other our full attention. We can share funny stories and make each other laugh. We can take our time and give each other the space to say it all; that’s hard to do in a text or email. I come away from these chats rejuvenated and comforted. And I think they do, too.  

I’m putting my son’s mementos from preschool through 4th grade into a scrapbook. He’s 40 years old! I did this for his older sisters years ago, and I’ve started this project several times, only to have to clear off the dining room table and put everything away. Not this time. We never have company!

Gene and I do more together. This is a man who doesn’t want to be “mothered,” married to a nurturer. But because of COVID-19, he has let me learn to cut his hair. He seems to like the result and the money it saves. And I love doing it!Gene's 2nd haircut2 5-16-20

We fix lunch together, even if we go our separate ways to eat it.  We team up on chores, e.g., he vacuums, I mop. We run expenditures by each other before we go out and buy something, rather than just ordering it because we suddenly have time. (Okay, this one’s entirely mine.)

He has felt from the beginning that I have “too many constituents.” Now I’m home most of the time, not running in so many directions. I can give him my full attention when he needs to tell me something. And all this leads to a better sex life, which seals the deal.

So, that’s my list. Taken individually, the items may sound mundane. But together, they contribute to health, intellectual stimulation, and richer relationships, and that means a happier life. At the root of it is the time to focus. And COVID-19 has given me this gift.

Ironic, isn’t it?

P.S. Please sign up for my blog. I’m curious to know who reads it. And if you would add comments about how COVID-19 has improved your life, I’d love to read them. Stay well.

Time for a Break?

by pearlsofpauline, posted in Camping, Coronavirus pandemic, Friends, Marriage, Travel

CHANGES OF SCENE ARE A GOOD THING, and SO ARE FRIENDS

Gene and I just celebrated our 19th anniversary. Ironically, after 19 weeks of social distancing, I think we’re ready to socially distance from each other. (Don’t worry; that’s a joke.)

Like most of us, in all these months, we’ve seen very few of our friends “live and in person.” And we miss them! The last time we entertained was on May 6th. Our neighbors Lynne and Bob came over at 7:30 a.m. for coffee and Bloody Marys on the patio. (We needed to be outside to socially-distance, and since we live in Phoenix, early morning seemed like the best time.)

In fact, since the disappearance of life as we know it, our social life has been almost non-existent. We’ve been to our friend Gail’s house for the best take-out dinner ever, seated at opposite ends of her dining table, and we joined Tempe friends Pat and Steve here in San Diego for seafood and a long walk on the beach. That’s it.

We’ve been able to rendezvous with family in various parts of northern Arizona, and in their yards and ours. Those visits have been our saving grace. But still, we miss our friends.

Since March, we’ve camped in Page Springs, Cottonwood, Camp Verde, Payson, Show Low, and Greer.

Added to the social isolation has been the pressure of being in our trailer for weeks at a time. We feel lucky to have our little house on wheels because it has allowed us a change of scene. But we’re talking 120 square feet! Have you ever tried to remove roasted vegetables from an oven in a space about three feet wide? Or taken a shower in a bathroom where getting undressed requires the dexterity of a contortionist?

This month, thank God, we’ve been in a little bungalow in San Diego with our kitties. It feels spacious, compared to the trailer. But being in another town for a month, even one with the most heavenly weather possible, poses problems, too.

I have plenty to do: reading, writing, talking on the phone with my kids and sisters, emailing and texting friends, cleaning, laundry, Facebook, Words with Friends. We cook, go for walks, fish, picnic at the beach, talk, and talk some more. Gene reads, goes to the driving range and fishes alone occasionally. But there are no projects here, no “Honey Do’s.” And this is “Mr. Fix-it.” The poor guy is bored.

So, we’re starting to drive each other nuts. He’s noticing every annoying habit I have, and I’m noticing that he has a few himself. The differences between us are more obvious because we’re together so much.

It turns out I have gotten particular. About a lot of things.  I used to think when Gene asked me to go with him to the store, he just wanted help. It turns out he wants me there to be sure he doesn’t bring home the wrong items, e.g., salted butter instead of unsalted, plain olive oil instead of Extra Virgin First Cold Pressed, thin pork chops instead of thick ones, red delicious apples instead of honey crisp. Not only are my grocery lists missing detail; they’re impossible to read! So now I know.

I can fix the grocery list. But a tougher challenge is the way we make decisions. Have you ever taken the color test for personality traits? Well, I’m a blue; Gene’s a green. I’m quick and spontaneous, the “let’s get it done” type. Gene is slow and deliberate, the “let’s get it done right” type, He wants to gather every bit of information he can find before making a decision, and I’m talking small (to me) decisions like which beach today or which wine with dinner. I welcome his style if, to me, it’s a decision worthy of his level of scrutiny.  But sometimes, I just need to move in a direction, any direction, even the wrong direction. In my head I’m shouting, PLEASE, LET’S JUST MOVE!

So, we’re trying to find things to do alone, like more reading and fishing. And it’s no wonder he wants to go fishing at Blacks Beach, where clothing is optional. He can fish and watch pretty girls go by “optionally” clothed. Time is not of the essence. (The stickler is that it’s 1,000 steps from the top of the trail down to the beach, a truly death-defying walk for a guy in his 70s, even one in good shape. And he’s got to carry a rod, a tackle box, towel, phone, snacks, water, a colander to catch sand crabs, and an empty water bottle to keep them in. I’m not concerned that this will become a habit.)

And while he’s fishing, I’ll think about all the reasons I’m glad we’re married, and welcome him home with a big kiss.

Becoming the One

by pearlsofpauline, posted in Coronavirus pandemic, Girlfriends, Marriage

WE’RE IN OUR 24TH DAY

We’re in our 24th day of Arizona’s “Stay at Home” order, and I’m surprisingly busy and content. Why is that?

I have a considerate, understanding husband who is thoughtful enough to leave me alone in my office for hours at a time. We go for long walks. We take turns cooking and watch a lot of good stuff on TV. We have sex. We go camping and fishing to break up the monotony of being at home day after day. I bake. I work in the garden. I organize my shoes.

But honestly, if I didn’t have my women friends, I think I would be in a terrible funk. Men may feel the same way about their male friends; I’m not sure. You see, we women reach out to each other. We send each other texts, emails, and notes. We call and check on each other. We ask each other for advice. We FaceTime and meet in the park for lunch. We share our recipes, books, TV shows, feelings. We organize happy hours on Zoom. We do these things because we are women, and women prioritize connection. They initiate.

And when I don’t initiate, one of my friends does. I have several who are especially good about that. I get busy and weeks may go by. They don’t give up on me or assume I don’t love them. They reach out. And I’m grateful. Because women can talk to each other about things the men in our lives just wouldn’t know or care about. Let’s face it: while I’m talking about my sick friend, Gene is thinking about the exhaust manifold in his truck… or the weeds that need spraying… or his testosterone level.

There are some big differences between the sexes. And I gave up long ago expecting to get everything I need from my man. I need to be loved by others, too, and I need to express my love for them by giving them my attention.

So I’m trying to become “the one” in Hafez’s beautiful 14th Century poem, “With that Moon Language.” Because I love my girlfriends. And they love me.

With that Moon Language

Admit something: Everyone you see, you say to them,

     “Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud;

     Otherwise,

Someone would call the cops.

Still though, think about this,

This great pull in us to connect.

Why not become the one

Who lives with a full moon in each eye

That is always saying

With that sweet moon

     Language

What every other eye in this world

     Is dying to

     Hear.

Home Sweet Home on the Road

by pearlsofpauline, posted in Camping, Cuteness Factor, Marriage

LET ME SET THE STAGE

Let me set the stage: I am married to a frustrated forest ranger.  My man is an introvert, a very focused guy, a guy who knows a lot about a lot of things, a guy who was happily living like a monk when I met him. And I’m a people person.

It all started with an ad I ran in the “Meet Your Match” section of The Arizona Republic.  My friend Len Young decided I was bored. So she helped me write the ad, and I sent it in and recorded a three-minute phone message about myself.    

You see, back in 1997, internet dating wasn’t de rigueur. (That’s an homage to my French teacher, Madame Pallissard.)  People ran ads, and those who were intrigued paid the paper by calling a 900 number to listen to the advertiser. I received about 10 messages, and returned all but one, which belonged to a man whose accent was so thick I couldn’t understand him.

After talking to my potential dates, I decided I wanted to meet Gene. He has a wonderful voice, for one thing, had left a very articulate response to my message, and was self-deprecating, unlike the rest, who sounded more like job interviewees than potential friends. So I checked him out by calling his workplace and asking for his title and address. He appeared to be legit.

We met for breakfast, played golf a couple of times, went fishing, and started dating. Three years later, after two broken engagements and while I was mid-way through chemotherapy for breast cancer, we got back together. I found that I couldn’t live without him. Literally. On June 22, 2001, we were married.     

Jump to today. We are camping in Payson, Arizona, in our travel trailer. Now doesn’t that sound romantic? Well, guess again. And picture a guy who just 10 days ago was diagnosed with Bells Palsy, while we were camping in Cottonwood, Arizona. He was determined to get out of the house after being home for a week because of the coronavirus.

I love to go camping; I really do. But the getting there and the coming home are a lot of work. There’s hiring the kitty-sitter, planning the food, grocery shopping, gathering the fishing stuff, packing clothes and toiletries, bringing things to do if it rains, and leaving the house clean, in case we’re killed on the road.

Once there, I make the bed (like wrestling a bear), put the food away (picture squeezing into Spankx), and organize our things (imagine limited space and, even more important, limited sockets).

And then there’s Gene’s part: packing the car, hooking up the trailer, driving to our campground, parking the trailer (the true test of love and commitment), removing the stabilizing bars (I always imagine him losing one of his arms to this part), unhooking the car, connecting the water hose, installing the sewer hose, and plugging into the electricity. You can see why I’m concerned about all this work in his present condition.

So here we are, having driven each other nuts trying to get the trailer properly positioned and level. It takes a few tries.

Me: “Can you pull up and I’ll try one of those boards under the tires?” He pulls up. I lay down the board, and he backs up over it until I shout, “Stop!” Me again: “How about if you pull up and I’ll try the thinner board?” Same thing. Me again: “I think we need one thick board and two thin ones on top of it. Can you pull up again?”) Finally, the trailer is fairly level, and I am completely insulted, as he has talked to me as if I’m an idiot, just because he couldn’t hear or see me while I was directing him. And then he tops it off with this: “I’m not sure you’re in tune with my needs.”

So I get organized inside, and he enjoys the great outdoors and has a glass of wine. And slowly, as we eat dinner (reheated pork loin with peaches, mashed cauliflower, tabbouleh, and chocolate chip cookies, with more White Burgundy), we relax and begin to talk again.

I’m reminded of telling both my girls, once they were old enough to think about marriage. “Chemistry is important; it gets you through the tough times.” A glass of wine, a nice dinner, and the cuteness factor. Thank God for the cuteness factor.