December 27, 2011
For Old Time’s Sake
It was an ordinary afternoon. The weather was chilly. It had been raining for two days in a row, the kids were restless and the ranch needed all hands to make sure the stock got fed. Now that we are a cattle ranch as well as a horse ranch, there’s even more to do when we have inclement weather.
Lex tugged on her boots and waterproof duster. Then she put her gloves and black cowboy hat on. Have I ever mentioned how incredibly sexy she looks in her black cowboy hat? Can you imagine how my hormones went crazy the first time my eyes focused on her after she pulled me out of my Mustang when the covered bridge collapsed? I was a goner as soon as I saw those beautiful blue eyes shining out from underneath that weather beaten black cowboy hat.
I’m still a goner. So, right after she went into the hay barn, I put on my warmest jeans, the shirt that she gave me years ago that used to be her younger brother’s and my boots and followed her to the barn. When I could tell Lex was absorbed in thought while she loaded up the truck with bales of hay, I climbed as silently as possible into the loft. Once there, a creaking floor board gave me away.
Lex looked up to see me standing at the edge of the loft. “Amanda?” She had the cutest expression on her face. She was obviously puzzled. What was I doing up there? I decided to see how quickly I could jog her memory.
“Can I help?” I carefully got as close to the edge of the loft as possible. Naturally, Lex moved closer, just in case I lost my footing, which I naturally did.
I let myself go and she promptly moved under me to catch me in her arms. “Feel familiar?”
“Amanda, what are you—Oh. Yeah. This seems a bit familiar.” She kissed me and the years melted away.
As she nuzzled my neck, she spoke softly to me, “Do you know what is different about this time?” Then she sucked on my earlobe and I forgot what we were talking about.
“This time,” she said, “it’s a dozen years later. And my back just locked up. And I have no earthly idea how to put you down without screaming in pain.”
“Oh, Lex! I’m so sorry. Let me—”
“No! Don’t move. Let me think.” Lex turned around in a small circle and finally figured out that if she got me close enough to the tailgate on the truck, she could put me down there and lie down next to me without it hurting too much.
It worked. There was a lot of wincing, and the sound of wind being sucked in through teeth, but I finally stopped doing that when she was in a comfortable position and I could make myself stop with the sound effects.
I put a small pile of hay under her head and lay down beside her. Then I ran soothing fingers under her shirt to relax her enough to drive the truck to the house and get her inside.
That was the thought, anyway. But Lex had other ideas. My soothing fingers led to her probing fingers and suddenly the thought of back spasms was all gone.
For old time’s sake.
I love you, Lex.
Amanda.
December 16, 2011
The Giggle Twins Cafe
Lex and the girls came bursting through the door. Their faces were red and they were all laughing.
“Sounds like you’ve had a good time.” I helped them off with their coats and patted each one on the face. “Brr, you’re cold.”
“We’re fine, honl” Lex picked up Eddie who had toddled over to her and held his arms up. “C’mere little guy. How’s your cold?”
“He’s feeling much better. The meds Rodney prescribed are doing the trick.”
“That’s good, little man. I don’t like it when you’re not feeling well.” Lex kissed him on the cheek and he reciprocated with a wide open-mouthed slobbery kiss to her nose.
“You have to come with us next time we go to that café, Mom,” Lorrie led us all in the kitchen and pulled out the milk from the refrigerator while Mel retrieved a sauce pan from the cabinet. Lex opened the cabinet door with the hand that wasn’t holding our son and got the can of cocoa powder out.
I watched them like a well-orchestrated dance as they went about making hot cocoa. Once the milk was heating, Lex put Eddie down so she could pour the heated milk into the mugs that Melanie had brought over to the stove. Meanwhile, Lorrie went to the pantry for Graham crackers and a can of chocolate frosting.
I sat down at the table after putting Eddie in his high chair and pulling it closer to me. This was domesticity at its best. To see your loved ones who you’ve poured you heart and soul into working together to make a Saturday afternoon treat that we all enjoy, and letting me sit back and watch. My family is amazing.
Once we were all stuffing our faces with the chocolate frosted Graham crackers and washing them down with our hot cocoa, I asked them about lunch.
“Oh, Mommy, they’re the best!” Mel piped up.
“Who’s the best, Mel?” I looked around the table at the smiles that were breaking out on their faces.
The two ladies that own “Giggle Twins Café.”
“Ah, I see. You went to Parkdale for lunch?” Three heads nodded, their mouths too stuffed to speak.
Finally Lex said, ‘Amanda, you have to come with us next time. These two women, younger than Martha, own the café. Remember when we saw it when we were coming back from Ellie’s?”
“I remember. The place looked cheerful from the outside and when that guy opened their door while we were waiting for the light to change, the smells of their food made my mouth water.”
“Mine too. So I thought I’d take the girls there today and check it out. Oh my god, Amanda. Their food is better than SMPH!” I’d quickly clamped my hand over my wife’s mouth to keep her from teaching the children any new phrases I’d end up having to explain.
“Did you ask them why they called the café, ‘Giggle Twins’?”
“Didn’t have to. From the moment they met us at the door to the time we paid the bill and left, they laughed non-stop about one thing or another.”
“That’s right, Mommy.”
“You know how Ms. Francine is at the café in town?” Lorrie asked. “She’s all like, ‘order it, eat it, pay for it, and get out’.”
Melanie agreed. “Remember when she told me to eat faster cause she’s been on her feet all day and didn’t want wait around to go home and put her feet up.”
“These women are nothing like that, Amanda. Velda, the one who greeted us, kept us entertained by telling us all the crazy things they’ve gone through as they learned the restaurant business. And the other one, Jane, kept sticking her head out of the kitchen and asking, “Are you sure they don’t want their food well done? Then the food would come out and you’d know they’d been kidding. The food is fabulous, and their coconut cream pie is to die for. You’d love it.”
“You had coconut cream pie and didn’t bring me any?” I glared at my lovely family and crossed my arms to let them know I didn’t appreciate not having any pie.
“We couldn’t bring you any, Mommy, cause Momma ate the whole thing. I just got to lick her plate.”
I could tell that Lex was thinking quickly.
“Um…they said, next time I should bring my lovely wife.” Lex wiggled her eyes and looked at me, hopeful that she would weasel her way out of trouble.
I picked Eddie up out of his chair and handed him off to Lex. She looked at me, puzzled, until I stood up and grabbed the keys. C’mon, girls, let’s see what they have for dinner.”
“But…but…”Lex stammered.
“Don’t forget to give Eddie his meds.”
About two hours later, the sound of giggling filled the air. I leaned back in my chair and wondered if anyone would notice if I unbuttoned my jeans a little to make room for my overstuffed tummy. Lex was right; the food was to die for. And the Giggle Twins had brought out another coconut cream pie, to our delight.
“Poor Momma,” Mel said right before she stuffed a forkful of pie into her mouth.
“Yeah, right,” Lorrie added. “Poor Momma is going to miss both the coconut cream pie, and the apple cobbler.”
The girls had explained to the one called Velda that her momma had gotten in trouble for not sharing her pie. Of course, Velda giggled. Then she went to the kitchen and brought back two more pies.”
“Here ya go! We make ‘em fresh every day, and it’s near closing time.” I tried to pay for the pies, but the Giggle Twins just laughed and said it was their treat, seeing as how they’d fed our family twice in the same day.
“Besides,” Jane said, “Your lovely Missus said that you’d be back to pick up the pies she’d ordered earlier today.”
December 15, 2011
A Gift That Keeps On Giving
Jeannie and I were talking about how motherhood has changed us both and how hard it is to keep our priorities in order when it comes to our mates. Poor Lex has been nearly consumed with the cattle business, supplying aged meat to some of Austin and Houston’s finest restaurants.
Keeping up with the kids and managing the house have been more challenging as each year has gone by and the kids get older. Good old-fashioned romantic evenings are few and far between. Our spirits and libidos are willing but our flesh keeps saying, “What, are you nuts?”
Jeannie said she and her husband made a trip to Austin and did a little shopping. She handed me two packages and gave me a wink. “I think you’ll enjoy your romantic evening.” She told me to wait until Lex and I were getting ready for bed to open the presents and not to open them in the same room. “After all, part of the fun is the surprise.”
That night, when all three kids were asleep, I handed Lex her package and retrieved mine. “What’s this?” Lex asked.
“Something from Jeannie. We’re supposed to open them separately at bedtime.”
“Jeannie? Are you sure it’s safe? You know your sister, she loves to torment me.”
“I know, but the package is soft. So I figure it’s safe.” I took my package and went into the bathroom with it. Lex decided to sit on the bed to open hers.
“What the fuck!” Lex laughed out loud and came to the backroom door. “Amanda? Is your sister even a little bit sane? What in the hell? What are we supposed to do with these?”
I opened the bathroom door and struck a sexy pose. “Like what you see, Slim?” I sashayed past my wife and turned around and played with the front zipper. It just screams sexy wife, doesn’t it?”
Lex was speechless. She fingered the material in her hands and said, “I’m not putting this on.”
I went to her and rubbed against the flannel shirt she was wearing. Static filled the air and tiny sparks of electricity could be seen due to the friction of the materials. “C’mon, sparky. Give it a chance.”
Grumbling, Lex changed into what could only be described as bunny pajamas. Dr. Denton’s for adults. Complete with the flap on the backside. Finally, we both stood in front of the mirror on the dresser and took stock of what we looked like.
“Well it is warm,” I offered.
“I thought they were supposed to be romantic,” Lex complained. “I feel like a two year old. I thought it’s supposed to make us sexy.”
“Sure to a herd of rabid bunnies.”
“What do you think, Amanda?”
I played with the flap on the back of Lex’s Forever Lazy Adult One-Piece PJ’s and hummed a little bit.
“What are you thinking?” I must have had that look on my face that made Lex think, “Danger, Will Robinson!”
“Let’s just see what we have here.” I played with the zipper with one hand and brushed the other hand over the material starting at the collar and down to Lex’s thighs. Then I turned her around and started rubbing my hands over her back and down to the flap in the back. “This could be useful,” I said as I slipped my hand between the flap and her skin.
Lex shivered and I was inspired.
The next morning, Jeannie called while we were still waking up. We’d shed the pajamas hours ago, but they had served their purpose.
In her most smug voice, Jeannie asked, “So, did you like your presents?”
“Mmm. Did we ever. Thanks!”
Lex took the phone and said, “Great idea, Jeannie. We need to go now.”
I could imagine the shock on Jeannie’s face when she realized her joke had backfired. But that thought quickly dissipated when Lex started nibbling on my collarbone and running her hands down my body. Oh yeah! Great gift, Jeannie.
December 13, 2011
Like Mother, Like Daughter – Virtual Genetics and Dinner Don’t Mix
“You know, Lorrie, the food is all going to go to the same place.”
“Eyewww, Mom! Not while I’m eating.”
I heard Lex snickering while she wiped Eddie’s face with a washcloth.
“And what’s so funny?”
Lex beamed with pride, “She’s just like I was as a kid.”
“Was?” I pointed to her plate and repeated myself, “Was? When did now get to be was?”
Sure enough, Lex’s plate had the meat to one side, the mashed potatoes on the other, and the steamed vegetables made a perfect triangle of food that absolutely, positively, did not touch each other.
She grinned. “Okay, how about this. I’ll move my veggies right next to the mashed potatoes and they can sit side by side?”
“That’s gross, Momma!”
I stared at both of them while Mel blissfully swirled her broccoli spears through her buttered mashed potatoes before taking a bite. Well, I guess that little talk about table manners bears repeating.
Eddie picked that exact moment to spit up. No one said a word. They just cleaned him up and sat him back in his highchair.
I had to ask before my brain exploded from the strain of trying to understand my loved ones. “None of you batted an eye when Eddie spilled the contents of his stomach.”
“Why would we?” Lex asked. “All babies spit up. It’s no big deal.”
“But the thought of your meat touching your mashed potatoes disturbs you?”
“That’s just icky, Mom! I mean, we’re not going to eat Eddie’s barf!”
How in the world did Lorrie inherit Lex’s penchant for separating her food on her plate? I was just about to ask that very question when I noticed that poor Mel’s face had gone white the moment her sister had mentioned Eddie’s barf.
“Momma, I don’t feel so….”
Another memorable dinner at the Walters had just come to an end.
November 24, 2011
Jeannie’s Second Chance
I love my sister. I really do. As siblings, we were childhood playmates and tattle tales. As teenagers, we were each other’s confidants and rivals. We have an unspoken bond that says no matter how stupid the idea, no matter how many times we try the same thing to the same disastrous end, we will defend to our last breath the right of each other to give something ridiculous one more shot.
Thus, Thanksgiving at the Walters is being brought to us by Jeannie, my sister, nature’s enemy of all things culinary. She wanted to try just one more time to host Thanksgiving.
I broached the subject with Lex. “Oh, please, sweetheart. I’ll be there to help.”
Lex paced back and forth in the bedroom. I could tell she was trying her level best not to be negative, but she was also aware that as she got closer to being forty years old, her stomach had its own ideas about what she is allowed to put into it. And none of those ideas included poisoning at the hand of her dear sister-in-law.
“One condition. It’s all I ask.”
“Anything.” The way Lex looked so pitifully at me made me cave in immediately. She could ask anything of me. That’s how effective her pout is with me. Fortunately, she saves it for really important things, like when I’m too tired for, well, you know.
“Ask Jeannie to cook the meal here. We have a much larger kitchen and there are places to put things. We’ve got that huge fridge and you and Jeannie can do the prep work here on Wednesday so she won’t be overwhelmed.”
“That’s really thoughtful of you, love. No wonder I married you.” I patted the bed next to me, inviting Lex to join me.
I tugged her down beside me and wrapped myself around her.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Lex grinned and could hardly suppress chuckling before letting me in on the joke. “Rodney told me what you were up to, so I’ve already put a fire extinguisher in each lower cabinet, just in case. And there’s ipecac in each upper cabinet. And there are 2 buckets of sand in the mud room. And since Rodney will be here, we’ve got medical care covered.”
Later that day, we told the girls that their Aunt Jeannie would be cooking Thanksgiving dinner at our house. Lorrie looked as if she were going to cry. “Aw, mom. You know Aunt Jeannie can’t cook. She can barely manage peanut butter sandwiches. If it weren’t for microwave ovens, they’d all starve.”
Being the helpful sort, Lex had to go there. “How’d she set fire to the last one, anyway?” Lex pretended to ponder the circumstances of each disaster. “I remember when she plugged one into a 220 line. Then there was the one that caught on fire cause she put an aluminum pan in it.”
“Mommy, remember the last one? Aunt Jeannie… mmph!” Lex had her hand clamped securely over Lorrie’s mouth. She’d noticed that I was going from chagrined to pissed off in record time.
“If you are all quite done.” I glared at Lex and Lorrie. Melanie had crawled up onto my lap and hugged me.
“I love you, Mommy. Don’t be mad. Aunt Jeannie can cook here. Maybe our oven won’t lock her food inside.” Then she planted a big kiss on my cheek and gave me another hug. “I like Aunt Jeannie’s baloney sandwiches.”
That was my undoing. I had reversed course and started laughing uncontrollably. I hugged my daughter and gave Lex the “all clear” nod that let them know they’d live to see another day.
We did have turkey on Thanksgiving. Martha and Charlie brought it up from their cottage and it was wonderful. Her dressing rocked, too. I made the mashed potatoes and green beans. Lorrie made her first pumpkin pie. As for Jeannie and Lex, we got them to watch a few cooking shows on television and they decided they could handle the job of expediters. And they got to wear the “Kiss the cook” aprons as they nibbled on everything to make sure it all tasted good.
Rodney was just thrilled that he could watch football with Charlie and not have to use his medical skills for at least one meal. Another disaster averted!
Happy Thanksgiving from the Walters gang.
November 18, 2011
Mrs. Carlson’s Worst Day
We pulled up into the school parking lot and noticed that several of the teachers’ cars were gone. This was normal since it was already 90 minutes since school let out. Lights were on in some of the classrooms, so we figured that Mrs. Carlson was waiting for us in her room. We left all the documents and pictures we’d brought with us in the truck and decided to just let our sparkling personalities do the work.
You’d think we’d discuss even a little strategy, or who was going to be ‘good cop’ vs. ‘bad cop’. But we didn’t. After a dozen or so years together, it was entirely unnecessary, like how Lex knew to pull me back when I was about to go after that mead tramp with a lance aimed at her posterior. She could feel the tension, the little things that told her I was particularly homicidal, and, especially “and” not to laugh about it later.
We went inside and let the office staff know we were there. I asked for the principal and showed him the composition and the note that Mrs. Carlson sent home with Lorrie. He looked at them and handed them back without a word. When he returned to his office the school secretary looked them over and asked, “What do you have in mind, Lex?”
“Nothing requiring hospitalization or the sheriff’s intervention,” Lex assured her.
“Says who?”
The school secretary snickered and patted me on the shoulder. “I tend to side with your wife, Lex. This new sub thinks the sun rises and sets on her brilliance.” Then she leaned in to whisper, “Big f’n pain in the ass, if you ask me. Big city stuck up.” Waving us on to the door, she said, “Just let me know where to bury the body when you get done. Good luck!”
I felt better. I could tell that Lex did, too. We decided that the best way to deal with a pompous ass is to keep them off kilter. Lex unbuttoned her shirt so that the start of her cleavage could be seen. I handed her my brush and she used it to tame her hair and make herself look downright irresistible. “Mr. Walter, indeed!” she said, and grinned at me.
I lost focus for a moment. See, I have a particularly strong admiration for Lex’s assets. Once, a view of her cleavage nearly caused me to drive off a bridge. The attraction is as strong as ever, even after all these years.
I snapped to. Literally, because Lex was snapping her fingers and waving her hands in front of my face to bring me back from that erotic haze that had swept over me. “Okay, I can do this.” We talked strategy for a moment and then headed off to Mrs. Carlson’s room. I went in first.
“Hello? I’m Amanda Walters.” Then I held out my hand for her to shake. “Lex will be right in.”
“Eleanor Carlson. I’m your daughter’s teacher.” She took a moment to size me up, which was okay, since I was doing the same with her. “Will your husband be long?”
“I’m not really long, just tall.” Lex said in the sultriest voice that I rarely heard outside of our bedroom.
If that teacher’s head hadn’t been attached to her neck, her head would have flown out of the window from whipping it around to get a look at the owner of that voice.
The teacher started backing up as Lex stalked her. Really. Lex looked like a jungle cat stalking her prey. It’s not so much the intimidation, it’s the attitude. It’s the sultry, sexy way that Lex can use to bring an opponent to their knees begging. Hell, it’s why my very straight sister cannot resist flirting with Lex. This woman, my wife, my love, the very essence of sexy, was making Mrs. Carlson back up into the student desks, chairs, and finally her own desk.
“Let’s see if we can clear the air, okay?”
Mrs. Carlson nodded.
“As you can see, I am not a man.”
Mrs. Carlson nodded.
“So referring to me as Lorrie’s father is out of the question.”
Mrs. Carlson nodded.
“Lorrie is spelled “L-o-r-r-i-e”, got it?”
Mrs. Carlson nodded.
“Our last name is Walters—with an ‘s’.”
Mrs. Carlson nodded.
“Amanda is my wife and the mother of our two daughters, Lorrie and Mel, and our son, Eddie.”
Mrs. Carlson nodded.
“Lorrie will probably inherit our ranch when she is grown, if that is her wish.”
Mrs. Carlson nodded.
“It seems to me that the only one having gender identification problems is you. I think that Lorrie has correctly identified her sister, Mel, as the one who likes to dress up like a princess, and her brother, who isn’t toilet trained yet, as the one with the poopy drawers.”
I’m sorry, but I have to say, that the way she looked at the cowering teacher even made words like “poopy drawers” sound wonderful.
Lex handed the composition to me. My turn at bat.
“So, Mrs. Carlson.”
She looked at me while trying to compose herself.
“Exactly what grammatical mistakes were there in this composition?”
She just stared at me without answering.
“Um hum. Aside from your presumptuous belief that you know better about our household than our own daughter does, does this composition meet the requirements for the assignment?”
She weakly nodded her head again. “I…uh…I’ll just change that grade, okay?” She sat down at her desk and changed the grade on the paper and in her grade book to ‘A’.
“If you have any questions about our life, just ask.”
Mrs. Carlson stood and looked like she was trying to make up her mind as to whether she should hold her hand out for a handshake or not.
I took her hand and briefly shook it. As I was about to turn to leave, Lex leaned in and said in her deepest, darkest, usually saved for when we’re playing our version of dress-up, voice, “If you ever berate our child, or grade her according to your own misconceptions instead of her academic merit, I’ll be back.”
Then Lex turned and swayed herself right out of the room. As we started down the corridor, we overheard, “Listen, Paul. We need to talk about this. I don’t care what your family thinks. I’m going home. ”
We winked at the school secretary as we passed her office and set about driving back home. Lorrie was fairly beside herself waiting for us to tell her the outcome. We called her to the mudroom instead of making her wait.
“Did you kick her ass?”
“Now, sweetie, is that something you should ask?” I decided to have a little fun with my child. “I mean, really? It’s not like she’s a cattle rustler or something.”
“No, but she’s a jerk!” Lorrie insisted.
Lex pulled Lorrie into a hug. “Amanda, Lorrie does have a point.” Then Lex handed Lorrie her composition so she could see the corrected grade.
“Thanks!” She hugged us both and ran back to the kitchen to tell Martha.
“I bet there’s a letter of resignation on the principal’s desk in the morning.” Lex took my arm and we headed to the den to relax for a bit.
“I didn’t really want her to—“ Lex gave me that knowing grin. I confessed. “Okay, so yes I did.” I kissed Lex on the cheek. “So, you sexy rancher, how about using that sultry voice with me for a little while? We can even play dress up.”
November 17, 2011
My Best Day, By Lorrie Walters
Lorrie came into the den and handed me the composition she’d received back from her substitute teacher today. Lorrie’s regular teacher was out on maternity leave, and Mrs. Carlson was finishing out the school year for her.
There was a note attached to the composition, addressed to “the parents of Lorie Walter.” The paper, itself, bore a “C-“ in red ink at the top of the first page. Lorrie was angry.
If there is one thing my daughter is good at, it’s compositions. She typically receives the highest grades for her efforts. She has also won state writing contests for the past two years on a row. So you can imagine how disappointed with her grade she was.
I gave Lorrie a hug and promised that Lex and I would look it over and discuss it with her teacher. She hugged me back and whispered, “Kick her ass, mom,” before she went outside to take care of her chores.
“Lorrie!” It was hard to scold my daughter when her mother was thinking the same thing. Once Lorrie was out the door, I made myself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table and began to read.
“My Best Day, by Lorrie Walters.” I was surprised to see all the red marks and comments. For example, where Lorrie had referred to her sister, “Mel”, her teacher had crossed out sister and written, “brother.” Lorrie mentioned how her sister loved to play dress-up, and on her best day, Mel had dressed up like a princess. Then Lorrie mentioned her baby brother and how the only thing she didn’t like about him was when he messed his diaper.
Red marks were everywhere. “If Mel is old enough to dress himself, why would you say he soils his diapers? And why does your brother wear a dress?”
“Huh?” I reread what Lorrie wrote and then what her teacher had written.
“You keep referring to your father, Lexington, as ‘mom’. What? Is your father one of those men who like to dress up like women? Are you confused about which parent is your mother and which is your father?”
I heard the back door bang as Lex stomped into the mud room. She called for me and no sooner had she taken her boots off than she stomped into the kitchen, fit to be tied. Apparently, Lorrie had caught her up on the events of the day.
“Sit.” I got her seated at the table and poured a large glass of iced tea for her. I showed her the composition, and then she read the teacher’s note.
“Mr. and Mrs. Walter?” Lex shook her head in disbelief and read the remainder of the note. “Needs counseling regarding gender identification.” She continued to read. “Imagines she has a horse but won’t give its name. Keeps saying ‘Mine’.” Lex read further. “Needs encouragement to pursue a normal life because she wants to run a ranch when she is grown.”
“Martha is on her way, honey.” I grabbed my purse and Lex went back to the mud room to put her boots back on. Then I handed her the package I’d assembled for her. “Deeds to our properties. Family pictures. Cattle counts.”
I didn’t know who to feel sorrier for. Although Lorrie was disappointed with her grade, her teacher was going to feel a lot worse once we got done with her. I opened my cell phone and punched in the number that the teacher had written on the note. “Mrs. Carlson? This is Lorrie’s mom, Amanda. Lex and I are on our way into town and should be at the school in twenty minutes. Good. Well we’ll see you then. Thanks.”
Lex took one more look at the composition as we climbed into her truck and sighed. “She corrected Lorrie’s name? Good grief!”
October 18, 2011
For Years to Come
Lex and I were lounging around in our bedroom and started talking about how our lives were in the early days of our relationship. How we were inextricably drawn to each other. How we became necessary to each other, and how each of our senses of well being became completely tied up with the other’s.
I still look at Lex and see the much younger woman who overcame obstacle after obstacle in order to run her ranch and make a success out of it. Meanwhile, she dealt with alienation and isolation, and had been abandoned so often in her life that it’s a wonder that she trusted me so easily.
But there it is. Sometimes you just know. Sometimes you see the person, hear their voice, and you know that this is the person you’re meant to be with for the rest of your life.
Lex is that person for me. She saved me. Not just from the creek, but from a life with no future. I know my grandparents love me. I’ve always known that. But the one-on-one commitment to another person who you want to share everything with is hard to find. And more precious than anything.
I asked Lex if she remembered our wedding vows. I was embarrassed to say that I don’t remember the words I said, but I do remember every emotion I felt. Lex confessed afterwards that she couldn’t remember the words either. But then she pulled me close and kissed me. Then she said, “I’ll never forget this.” And she kissed me again.
Some friends of ours are being married at the end of October. Lex joins me in hoping that the day is a wonderfully blessed day for them both. May their lives be filled with love, laughter, and the devotion that comes only with the deepest love.
Dedicated to Cindy and Cathy.
Amanda.
October 7, 2011
Amanda Walters – Renaissance Woman
I’ve just come down to the den from getting cleaned up while Lex put the kids to bed. I figured, as long as I embarrassed myself in public, I might as well do it here, too.
You all know what a Renaissance Fair is, right? In case you don’t, it’s like a county fair with a few exceptions. The entertainers are dressed up as wandering minstrels and try to sing like minstrels did in the middle ages. Men, women, and children dress up in period costumes, wear all manner of wigs and make up, and party like it’s 1499. There is jousting, food cooked in kettles, home made ale and honey mead.
Once in awhile you see Star Trek aficionados who blames their costumes on some kind of worm hole they claim to have gone through. The food is okay, the costumes are eye-openers, and hand over eye closers when your child points to a codpiece and starts giggling.
The trouble started when I said I was thirsty and Lex pointed to a not too far off beverage vendor. They were selling mead. Just as we got there, the person who’d been selling the mead left and a very buxom woman took his place. She watched us walk up to their table; rather, she watched LEX walk up to the table and barely noticed the rest of us.
Okay, so I think that my wife is gorgeous and I agree with anyone who thinks she’s an eyeful. A “cleavage full” is a different story. How she could mistake Lex asking for a small cup of mead for “Can I stick my nose down your boobs,” is beyond me.
Did I mention that I’ m banned from ever attending this particular Renaissance Fair again? It was only a jousting lance. Could I help it if she was determined to wear it up her butt?
Amanda.
June 9, 2011
Reality…Wow, What A Concept
“Are we what?” I asked Lorrie after half listening to her question. This was the time of day when I’d just met the girls as they got off of the school bus and was driving back to the ranch house.
“Are we real, Mommy? My friend, Pam, said that we all could just be pigments of someone else’s imagination.”
I nearly drove the SUV into the side of the covered bridge and wondered if Lex would be able to pull us all out of that creek. Thank goodness that it wasn’t the rainy season. The tires may get soaked, but we would most likely just end up with–
“Mommy!”
I swerved back onto the middle of the bridge and silently berated myself for letting my thoughts get away from me.
“Uh, sorry. Lorrie, what did your friend say?”
“Pam said that we could just be the pigments of someone else’s imagination.”
“Figment, Lorrie, pigment is what those freckles on your nose are.”
“Figment. Mom, what about it?”
“What about what?” Okay, I have to admit that Lorrie’s question took me off guard. It’s a question I have asked myself and never really came to a satisfying conclusion.
“Lorrie, do you feel real? When you touch things, can you feel them? Do you taste the food you eat? Do you smell Freckles wet fur when she comes in out of the rain? What do you think?”
“I guess I’m real, then.” She took a moment to think about it further as we came closer to the house. “But what if all those things are what someone imagines we’d feel and taste and smell?”
I brought the Expedition to a stop and turned off the engine. As the girls gathered their things up, I began to think that maybe Lorrie was on to something.
A little while later, Lex joined me in the kitchen as I put the final touches on dinner. I told her about the conversation in the SUV earlier and that I thought Lorrie would make a fine philosopher.
“And rancher. Remember, she wants to run the ranch when she gets old enough.” Lex nabbed a piece of pot roast and popped it in her mouth. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she chewed the succulent meat. “Mmm, yummy!” She reached for another tidbit and I smacked her hand.
“Wait until dinner. Why don’t you go call the girls and have them wash up for dinner, honey?”
Lex grinned at me. “Why don’t we imagine we called them for dinner, but they weren’t hungry and left all this wonderful pot roast for me?”
“You’re incorrigible, Lex.”
“I imagine so.”
“Be nice or you can imagine what happens in the bedroom tonight, all by yourself.”
“LORRIE! MEL! DINNER!”
Then Lex scooped me up in her arms and started nibbling on my neck.
Real. Definitely real.
Amanda
