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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2004-06-02 - 8:26 p.m. The Man Who Ate the 747 If I�d known that I could increase my gate by luring fighters without their significant others into the Sunday tournament, I would have structured this thing entirely differently. - FjF, autocrat Sapphire Joust. Yes, I inadvertently went to Sapphire Joust on Sunday. Had no intention of going. No real interest in packing up my gear and life and dragging it through Memorial Day weekend traffic. My beloved Roland was invited to fight in the Sapphire tournament on Sunday, and he called me Saturday night to say he was staying over. And he tried so hard not to be pathetic. And I tried hard not to be pathetic. The cat, it must be admitted, showed no such restraint and was *entirely* pathetic, sitting in the middle of Roland�s empty spot in the bed at yowling at me, refusing to listen to either comfort or reason. Sunday morning, found me driving south, listening to The Man Who Ate the 747 on tape, which is a remarkable book about the things men do to prove their love for women. We�ll get back to that point a bit later. I walked up behind Roland, where he was warming up with Corbie, who was kind enough to say Good morning, Theodora and to *not* hit my husband in the head when he whirled around. In case anyone has ever wondered, one of the advantages of a barbute is the ability to rub noses while Roland is armored up. But for those lovely good morning kisses, Roland did have to pull the helmet off. Then, I sat in bright company, with my monarchs, my host, and nobles of the realm to watch the Sapphire Joust. The moments I was away when Roland delivered his honors, those were the bouts he lost � proving that love and inspiration have much to do with the success of human endeavors. Melt. Yeah, yeah, yeah. We�re sappy. But our tenth anniversary is next week, so we�re likely to be fairly adorable over the next few days. Could be problematic, as my Mom turns up tomorrow. She�s bringing me chicken salad and a logging chain. I. Am. So. Jazzed. In the end, my only regret was missing Isabel, who was at the event only on Saturday. I would also like to talk to her about the small blue stuffed animal, a model of what the offspring of Eeyore and Rabbit might look like � if two male fictional children�s characters could have children - that fell out of my computer case at my first meeting of the day. Do all my women friends have this incessant need to corrupt my husband? � � � 
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