I said I would write about this. As my obstinate but clever but intrusive but curious Amélie already knows all about this, it can’t hurt to finish off this blog with a fun tale.
I already wrote about how I was set up by my daughter Charlotte and her friend Hermine. Hermine’s mother and I talked once on the phone but we didn’t go out for some time. This is because of something I neglected to mention when I last wrote on this topic.
She originally lived in the West of the USA and went home for Xmas and the New Year. It wasn’t until after her return that we arranged to meet up at least once just to ensure the girls had their success at match-making. However, an important point is that we texted from time to time while she was away. It wasn’t romantic, it was just friendly stuff, day-to-day stuff. I realize now that it gave us a window into each other’s mind, our senses of humor, and some of our likes and preferences. It wasn’t intended to be that, it was just off-the-cuff jokes and snippets. But it changed what we knew about each other.
When we met for a brunch, we brought the troublemakers along (her daughter and my youngest daughter). They sat at another table while we chatted. After a couple of hours, we were still engrossed and they got bored. They decided to walk back to my house to make brownies.
A further hour or two later, we decided to join them. I realized a tiny flaw in letting the girls go to my house. I’d been
threatening cajoling my girls into tidying their messes up to no avail. Now Lillian would see the house as it is, not as I would like it to be. OMG.
Lillian wandered around with me, tried the drum-kit, and generally seemed OK with the house as it is. Naturally I didn’t know if, inside, she was saying to herself, “OMG! These girls are slobs! Maybe HE’S a slob too!”
It was a week or so later that I discovered why she was quite happy with my house and I needn’t have worried: she has two dogs. They think that fur should be carefully placed on any surface. They think that fur is an excellent additive to adult food. They think that the door bell is a command to bark at maximum volume for a few minutes. To Lillian, my house was a model for what she wants her to be: fur-free and quiet. Yay me.
Over time, the many many other women (OK, OK, you should know that men have this tendency to exaggerate about prowess) faded away as Lillian and I walked with her dogs and chatted and never seemed to run out of things to say or do together. She lives less than a mile from me and it’s a few minutes in the car or a short walk, depending on the weather and available time. It’s so easy to stop by, or for her to stop by, that many of the issues facing other couples just skip us by. I’m the neighbor that provides coffee when she runs out. She lets me use her pruning saw (that’s an actual saw, not a subtle saucy term!). When the girls sleep over, sometimes one of us does too.
Will it last? Will it be perfect? I hope so, but cannot guarantee anything. We seem to get along so very well that I have high hopes. I feel I have slipped into something very comfortable and natural. The only stumbling blocks have come from external things like dealing with her friend’s problems or my daughters’ problems. These are real, but hopefully won’t slow us down too much.
I’m not going to wax lyrical about her nor list all of the things I like. Quite simply, I like her, and want to keep looking and moving forward.