A tribute to the people who make my life less ordinary:
To Lori‘s clan, for openness, honesty, stellar conversation, and letting me pick the restaurants.
To Jeff, who is willing to pretend to urinate in public for my amusement,
and treat me to whiskey and absinthe
with Rena, his superstar wife, in secret places.
To Ms. Card, for her laugh,
and Wendy, for childhood and Scratch-n-Sniff stickers and this very moment.
To Tim, for history.
To Mary and Michael, for more than I can say,
and a beautiful, hand-knitted shawl to keep me warm.
To Shane and Jef, for blurry, light-filled smiles that mean the world.
To Kelli and the joy of meeting you in person.
And this man, for the best years of my life.
And to everyone not pictured here, the talented, joyous, loving beings that you are. This is what matters. This moment that we have together, live and in-person or via virtual hug. You are glittering diamonds, the fabric of my soul.
How lucky I am to know you.
I like that he said brown-ish at the ripe age of four, that he can see the nuance, that there is green and some yellow in there, too. I like that he can speak his mind with me, sharing what makes him nervous (big kids watching him go down the slide) and happy (sitting next to me during dinner, sweet sigh) and sad (his friend when he is mean). I like that I can be my goofiest, cavorting around the yard and house, in my usual way, with him in on it, making up stories during long piggy-back rides while I sing to Radiohead. The gorgeous alchemy of two happy souls moving in tandem before he rests his head on my lap and drifts off to sleep. Another play-date and sleepover for the record books.
May day! May day! The first time I heard any variation of that expression was on the Hardy Boys Mysteries on TV as a kid. Man, did I love that show, and 
