| Linens, handmade jewelry, handbags, lamps some exceptionally good buys |
When I first moved to
London I read the
Jane Austin novels,
which made me cry.
I had chosen not to
marry and my son was
a baby. I was not
within the scope of the
novels.
And yet, up until then
I had largely
maintained the virtue
of heroines, even
when I hitchhiked. My
clean white tennis
shoes, pink gingham
blouse, cut on the
bias, and wheat jeans
were chosen to show
what I was really like.
I carried a silver letter
opener shaped like a
scimitar that had been
given me by a
London I read the
Jane Austin novels,
which made me cry.
I had chosen not to
marry and my son was
a baby. I was not
within the scope of the
novels.
And yet, up until then
I had largely
maintained the virtue
of heroines, even
when I hitchhiked. My
clean white tennis
shoes, pink gingham
blouse, cut on the
bias, and wheat jeans
were chosen to show
what I was really like.
I carried a silver letter
opener shaped like a
scimitar that had been
given me by a
handsome young man when we didn't click.I carried it to use if someone
tried something I did not agree to. And I agreed to little.
I am sure I had the country charm that I so valued. Though now that I am
old, I wonder if I could have somehow gone from the image and feeling of
virtue and goodness to marriage. I wonder if I had a bedroom with linens
like those shown above, if I could have married.
I was asked to marry, that part I had down.
I remember in London when I was living with the topologist, having a
dream about the tunnel of love, not a ride, more like an obstacle course. I
had been in the dark making slow progress when I saw daylight and the
opening that would take me into the world, but between me and that place
I wanted to be was a pond of mud, black and slippery, and who knew how
deep. There was no path around it. I woke with a sense of apprehension,
in view of what I wanted, but held back. I had to get John to take me
across, I thought. Why wasn't he with me? Or was he? The expanse of
mud faced me and I knew that love existed only if I crossed.
I woke up with longing and fear. The mud sounded dry, the tunnel hollow,
when I tried to tell John. He didn't offer to build a bridge or a pontoon. I
had thought he would know what to do.
We swirled real cream into our dark coffee in thick walled cups, made to
chip not break. How deep had the mud been, I wondered. John made a
paper ring and slipped it on my finger. Paper, I thought, it wouldn't last.
John wanted to go to the West End, so I dressed Miguel and me and the
three of us went. On Regent Street John guided us to a jewelry store with
rings in the window. The glass felt thick as... "I don't want to get married,"
I said. "I want you to ask me, to keep asking me for seven years."
As if the money in his pocket were his emotions and I had rejected
investment, the pride that had billowed our journey was gone with an
almost audible puff.
I wanted it back, "Seven years, isn't that common law?"
He never asked again; in less than three years we split up.
So I wonder, was there some way of mixing flowers and plaid, blue stripes
and solid yellow, that would have prepared me to say yes?
Perhaps... but I think my mother, or someone, would have had to talk
about the relationships...
tried something I did not agree to. And I agreed to little.
I am sure I had the country charm that I so valued. Though now that I am
old, I wonder if I could have somehow gone from the image and feeling of
virtue and goodness to marriage. I wonder if I had a bedroom with linens
like those shown above, if I could have married.
I was asked to marry, that part I had down.
I remember in London when I was living with the topologist, having a
dream about the tunnel of love, not a ride, more like an obstacle course. I
had been in the dark making slow progress when I saw daylight and the
opening that would take me into the world, but between me and that place
I wanted to be was a pond of mud, black and slippery, and who knew how
deep. There was no path around it. I woke with a sense of apprehension,
in view of what I wanted, but held back. I had to get John to take me
across, I thought. Why wasn't he with me? Or was he? The expanse of
mud faced me and I knew that love existed only if I crossed.
I woke up with longing and fear. The mud sounded dry, the tunnel hollow,
when I tried to tell John. He didn't offer to build a bridge or a pontoon. I
had thought he would know what to do.
We swirled real cream into our dark coffee in thick walled cups, made to
chip not break. How deep had the mud been, I wondered. John made a
paper ring and slipped it on my finger. Paper, I thought, it wouldn't last.
John wanted to go to the West End, so I dressed Miguel and me and the
three of us went. On Regent Street John guided us to a jewelry store with
rings in the window. The glass felt thick as... "I don't want to get married,"
I said. "I want you to ask me, to keep asking me for seven years."
As if the money in his pocket were his emotions and I had rejected
investment, the pride that had billowed our journey was gone with an
almost audible puff.
I wanted it back, "Seven years, isn't that common law?"
He never asked again; in less than three years we split up.
So I wonder, was there some way of mixing flowers and plaid, blue stripes
and solid yellow, that would have prepared me to say yes?
Perhaps... but I think my mother, or someone, would have had to talk
about the relationships...
http://www.health-boundaries-bite.com
Your fingernails reflect your health --
Learn some warning signs --
Karen Kline
Your fingernails reflect your health --
Learn some warning signs --
Karen Kline
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12/10/07 - I want to thank the people who ordered from this
page. You made me very happy, on many levels.
2/11/08 - I want to thank the people who continue to order
from this page. Very much.
page. You made me very happy, on many levels.
2/11/08 - I want to thank the people who continue to order
from this page. Very much.
If there's
something in
particular that
you'd like to see
on this page, let
me know.
something in
particular that
you'd like to see
on this page, let
me know.
Health Boundaries Bite
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Linens... and a story
Underexposure to natural daylight can
result in sleeplessness, the Winter Blues,
fatigue, increased appetite and
diminished sex drive.
Reduced, poorly timed or limited access
to light can effect the body's clock or
circadian rhythms resulting in disruptions
in waking, sleeping, concentration,
emotion and appetite. See Sleep and
Vitamin B12.
result in sleeplessness, the Winter Blues,
fatigue, increased appetite and
diminished sex drive.
Reduced, poorly timed or limited access
to light can effect the body's clock or
circadian rhythms resulting in disruptions
in waking, sleeping, concentration,
emotion and appetite. See Sleep and
Vitamin B12.
