Sunday with friends

I settled into the lazy-boy beneath the warm glow of a lamp just over my right shoulder, sipped from a ceramic mug (my favorite brown one) and allowed my mind to settle. Clouds had set in. I could hear a sigh of wind whistle in the gutters as rain began to hit the window; slow at first, then, in a moment, it filled the room with an energetic rhythm. Euphoria set in. Then, as it usually does, nostalgia.
There was something substantial in my chest. Something satisfied and happy. I began to retrace my steps from the day. Sleeping in with my wife, a rare treat these days. Coffee and toast in the shower (the steam keeps the toast from going stale too quickly) then a morning at church where my heart and mind was fed, and freinds whom we hadnt seen in sometime, greeted us with smiles.

These memories, however, were only the beautiful steps leading to the height of our day: lunch time. As we all know, the greatest meals might be served on the finest ware, but in loneliness, it might as well be a TV dinner at home. What made lunch so exciting was the reunion with Byron, and the Jones, a sort of celebretory gathering. They had just purchased a new home in Vancouver and we were all going to visit.
As Naomi and Sue bustled about in the kitchen, making Kas, Gallo Pinto, veggies and salsa, we men sat in the living room, chatting, catching up. It was tacit, that feeling one gets at this stage of life. Married. New home and the sharing of such pleasures with those you love.
The meal was ready and we gathered at the table, in front of a large window, bringing in the scattered beams of light that dripped between passing clouds. Naomis and my back were turned to it, being warmed slightly.

Conversation and laughter were brimming over as the wine once brimming aswell, became drips of crimson residue in the nooks of our glasses. Our bellies sate with the myriad of food, we leaned back in chairs (or window) allowing moments of silence to drift about the table.

Byron first, then us; we made our way out the door. Hugs and thank yous came liberally.

Now, here I am, recolecting such treasures, truly thankful.

Blogging prelude - expect dissapointment

"Fundamental accuracy is the ONE sole morality of writing" Ezra Pound
"At the risk of appearing foolish, a writer sometimes needs to be able to just stand and gape at this or that thing - a sunset or an old shoe - in absolute and simple amazement" Raymond Carver
Probably some of the best advice on writing (and reading for that matter) came from C.S. Lewis in a letter he wrote to a child inquiring about what it takes to be a writer. I wont bore with the entirety of it, however a huge take home would be this:

"Write about what really interests you whether, it is real things or imaginary things, and nothing else. (Notice this means that if you are interested only in writing you will never be a writer, because you will have nothing to write about....)".

In conclusion, the reason for the above as a sort of prelude to our blog, is to prepare you for the context of making it. Naomi asked that I would do most the writing, which I am excited about. As most blogs alow the people, whether freind or passer by, to big-brother on our lives, this blog will be abnormal, probably dissapointing to the avid and tenured bloggers who want the latest details of our lives through a computer rather than a personal encounter. Sorry. There will be, however, info about our daily experiences, what we are up to and going (or not going). If I write them, it will be in narrative or anecdotal. If Naomi writes it, most likely in cut and dry, warm and affectionate vernacular. Over all, this blog will be interesting and fun to maintain.
Enjoi!

well...its June of '08 now, and our blog has changed dramatically. it was to be expected. at least, i feared the change. i hope my sister in law is happy now that we're just like her and her husband.