Wednesday, 22 April 2015

Fair (of face).



(Yes, we're arguing over which portmanteau is going to emerge victorious, to be used from here on out to describe the curious state of Bridget's face now that her freckles have come out of hibernation to fill some color into the wrinkles around her eyes because she squints in the sun on the water and also because she's a tiny vampire and hardly sleeps. If she isn't waking up to pee every three hours someone is molesting her and wakes her up anyway.)

Frinkles wins because it's mine and it's cute, though Loch's term of Wreckles is funnier and more logical. Wreckles indeed. My kingdom for a fountain of youth instead of concrete out there in the driveway.


PJ and Caleb replaced the barbed wire on the swing with new ropes. PJ did while Caleb...supervised but the ropes are strong and nice and white and Ben has been instructed to not do that anymore. He does the biting thing for kicks, don't worry. He doesn't have oral fetishes. Well, okay not like that anyway. Apparently he and Daniel were talking while he was cleaning up in the orchard and at one point he pretended to bite down on the rope to indicate how much he hated putting up with something (probably me) but bit the rope in half instead of letting go. He has jaws like a steel trap. Very strong.

He figured I would love the metal edge to the pretty swing. I did but you can't actually hold on to it. He said he expected me to write a story of a girl who lingered on a barbed wire swing so long she became part of it with blood dripping down her fingers, off her elbows but that she had to remain on it until she touched heaven.

I can't write that story. 

How come?

Because you just did. How does it end? Does she get there?

I don't know, Bee. She said she'd let me know when she's done scowling at her face in the mirror. What if it sticks like that?

Oh, God, you've been with Lochlan too long. That's what he says. 

You worry too much about the way you look. 

I don't, actually, but I don't think I'm going to attract anyone with my shining personality either. 

You'd be surprised. And you don't need to attract anyone because I'm right here.

Right. You married me because I'm sweet and pleasant?, not really. I married you because you're my best friend. 

And he smiled with that polar-ice-melting shy smile that floors me and reached out to pull me in. I touched heaven when his arms closed around me. I didn't bleed. I expected him to say something x-rated and he didn't. Wonders never cease.

I tell him this and he laughs out loud and squeezes me tighter.

You won't have to wait long to hear something x-rated. Trust me, Bee.

Then he whispered something in my ear and I'll have to figure out how to work blushing into that portmaneau. My poor face is just a whirlwind of everything written all over it these days. Can't hide a thing and seriously, Ben's glorious imagination beats mine by miles and miles.