Meri's Musings

I want to hear the roar of the sea and experience the quiet bliss of having  my lover's arms  encircle me as we stand against the wind. I want to fall in love for the last time in my life.

I haven't known that heady, out of control, you make my toes curl kind of feeling for  a long, long, time. I've spent lots of time  learning to be my own woman, traveling to places hither and yon sometimes without any travel companions. I've settled into a routine by now. It might be time to shake things up. Or then again. . .  why mess with a good thing?

Not having found either Mr. Right or Mr. All-Right-for-Now, I had almost forgotten what love is. Now I know. Turns out you can buy it (the Beatles were wrong) And cook it. And cover it with marinara or maybe a little pesto or garlic aioli and shave some zesty Parmesan atop it and eat it. Now there's something I can sink my teeth into. Too bad there's an expiration date. 

What gives me JOY? A feeling of sufficiency with regard to basic needs. Books to read and a mug of something warm to drink. Walking at the place where water and land meet. Stumbling across evidence that love still thrives. There are endless sources of JOY, and at least A Thousand Beautiful Things to celebrate. Won't you spend a little time looking for JOY and sharing it with us? To play along: 1. do a post that tells and shows us what gives you joy. 2. capture the URL of the specific post  and paste it into the  Mr. Linky box  along with your name. 3. visit other players -- as many as possible --  and let their joy infect you.   Leave them a comment about their post. Let's start an epidemic of joy!

What a strange thing divorce is. It terminates the legal construct called "marriage,"      but it fails to sever the string of memories you carry around, memories tucked neatly away in some mental suitcase until something unpacks them. Yesterday, I was sitting in Jason's hair studio, sipping tea and watching the "trim" turn into a major shearing, when the oldies station played this piece of Fleetwood Mac history. And the memories of falling in love and its particular soundtrack came flooding back. There was a little bar across the street and down the block from the law school.  It was a bit schizophenic: a lunchtime hangout for law students and professors, an after-shift blue collar bar,  and a post-class study place  for night law students  after the doors were officially locked for the night. There was a jukebox, playing through all the changes in the cast of characters. Some of the songs it played  are forever embed...