I'll be writing a blog post about Washington Square Park, the movie Passionada, and some other things in a few days. Some things have come up that will keep me somewhat afk... in the meantime, a poem written by Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings:


Double Knots

Tied in two, twisted ‘round
Here’s the sneakers
Laces no longer white
But softer than cotton
From a year of being tied
And untied and tied again

“these double knots are too tight,
Can you help me undo them?”

I’ll have to undo them
Using my fingernails
Or using my tweezers when stress
Has left me with nothing on the ends of my fingers
To undo double knots with

Once or twice, I’ve used my teeth
Which was really bleh plith plith thap
But made the kids laugh
When I made a face and spit off the dirt
That got stuck on my lips

Wet double knots are the worst
And the tightest
The hardest to undo
But they are the ones that were created
By the most interesting and important journeys
Through mud puddles or beach shores

I make it a point to remember that
It keeps me patient and focused

These double knots in life, I’ve learned
Are always undoable… I’ve never used scissors
Or given up
No matter how hard or how much time is to be invested

It once took me two days of trying to undo a double knot
I had to wait for the laces to dry, but I got that double knot undone

I undo the double knots, even though I know
That eventually there will be another double knot
To undo, but it keeps them from tripping
On hanging laces

Sometimes too hard for them to undo, yet
But with each undoing, with each moment of determination
They will each learn to untie their own laces
And feel strong enough and capable enough
To undo the double knots that come up in life
My wish for each of them… double knots that don’t give them too much of a struggle,
and Velcro and slip on shoes.

~*~*~*~*~



Will be undoing some double knots for a few days. Wet ones, the hardest kind, but it's ok... mud puddles happen.

One week from today is our 12 year anniversary. We rarely go the traditional route, which mentions silk, pearls and colored gems as being the things we should be giving and receiving. Our plan is to head to New York City, to Washington Square Park, for some Scrabble games with the parkies. These are hard core Scrabble junkies, people who have a love for the game so intense they will venture out in the scorching heat of summer or dead of winter time to see if anybody is waiting at one of the designated Scrabble tables. A renovation is supposed to take place later this summer, so it will be interesting to go before it happens and then go next year to see what changes have taken place.

A day trip to New York City will be more fun than anything silky or shiny could bring, and we're looking forward to just checking the whole park out. There's an equally avid group of chess players, and people walk their dogs and, from what we've heard, sell their drugs (mostly pot) in the park, so this should be a great day for people-watching.

Something happened this past Monday that reminded me of all the reasons why I wanted to marry Kenny. We were running late, as Kenny had started his new work hours. As we drove along the highway, Winter asked if Kenny could drive over 'the other bridge.' Kenny explained to me that during their trips to get Winter's arm checked and the cast taken off, they would use the Sagamore bridge instead of the Bourne bridge, to avoid traffic with all the work being done on the Bourne bridge. The work had ended, and taking the Sagamore bridge took about five minutes longer to get us to our destination. As we were running late, I didn't expect Kenny to say yes, but he didn't say anything and, without hesitating, just drove towards the Sagamore bridge. Winter's eyes lit up, he was so excited just to see the other side of the canal, the Bourne bridge in the distance. Nikki and KC were just as amazed, it got so quiet in the van as all three of them just looked out their windows, taking it all in. The hills and boats and scenery, as seen, from the other side of the route we usually take. It was such a simple gesture, such a small sacrifice of time, but as I watched all three of them looking out their windows, Winter listening to his music on his cd-player headphones, just looking at the water and stones that border the canal, and the peaceful look on his face... I got a feeling in my heart towards Kenny that just felt like he had poured in some thick, warm maple syrup. :)

About eight years ago, Kenny and I had a tremendous argument when I'd asked him to stop on the highway so I could watch a thunderstorm rolling in. This storm was incredible, black clouds with white tops, so high up it took your breath away. We were heading to see a show in Rhode Island. He wouldn't stop, said we were running late, and later told me he didn't understand why I'd want to watching this dangerous storm pull in anyways. I was crushed... I felt I didn't ask for anything that often, and this was something *free*, why wouldn't he stop to let me watch this storm for a few minutes? It was a vital moment in our marriage, as our discussion after it happened led to us better understanding each other. Kenny had explained he wanted to keep me safe from the storm. I explained to him that storms and weather were something I'd always had an interest in, and always would... and I felt the risks of watching thunderstorms were a lot lower than if I had an interest in, say, skydiving or scubadiving. He was being the *man*, wanting to protect his wife from potential lightening strikes. I was being, as usual, the *rebel*, refusing to fear the dangers and seeing any risks as minimal to nil (which, in actuality, I'm right about.) He was being logical; we were running late, why stop to see this storm roll in for a few minutes? I was being debative; who cares if we are slightly late, the show we were going to see had the doors open at a certain time, but the show itself didn't start until an hour later. He was being sensible; people aren't supposed to stop when they see a storm coming, they are supposed to keep going. I was being curious; let's stop and watch this, something cool might happen, like a tornado! We made a pact; Kenny would stop the vehicle if something to do with weather was going on and I asked to stop to watch. I would do my best not to put us in extreme danger by requesting to stop in front of an F3 tornado.

That moment in time has led to a man who does stop and will change his route, without hesitating, even when he's running late, to let his kids enjoy the scenery of bridges and a canal that inspires them. It also led to a man who pulled over to the side of the road the other day when I told him I wanted to have the kids look at some huge low-hanging catterpillar nests up close, even though he was anxious to just get home. He even came with us to inspect the gigantic silky nests and gigantic catterpillars crawing all around the leaf-eaten shrubbery. It led to me respecting that Kenny views me as vulnerable, and that he feels it is his responsibility to protect me, which makes me feel... well, probably more like a woman than I consider myself to be. It's kinda nice to know that Kenny, who sometimes tells me I'm not a normal chick and that I tend to view things through the eyes and mind of a man, that it drives him nuts on birthdays and holidays because he can't just buy me something and knows I'd much rather *do* or *see* something new than *have* something new, still perceives me as being female and himself as the one who will keep me safe.

It has led to a dozen-year anniversary, and the feeling that if I had the choice to go back and start all over again, I'd do it all the exact same way we have... with all of the disagreements along the way, with all of the sacrifices we both made, with all of the learning about each other that has been as fascinating and wonderful as loving Kenny has been.