The next art assignment is called Never Seen, Never Will. You are to think of something, some place, or someone in the world that you have never seen and probably never will and make it somehow. Write it or draw it or construct it. Since I am sure that I won't be going diving again there's no chance that I'll ever see a whale shark in the wild so I googled pictures and printed off a few. Then I got out a sketch pad and started working on it. I could write about seeing one but that seems like cheating, writing doesn't feel like art to me. I don't draw very well but I can try my hand at it and then work out how to paint it with watercolors which are the only paints I have. I also have a couple how-to books about watercolors so I can get some tips before jumping in.
This morning I went over to Zambaldi Beer to watch DS fill a couple kegs from a half barrel of Brown Ale. Every time I go visit he's doing something different. I'm always impressed at how he figures out how to do things with hoses and valves. Creative. (He gets that from me)
After supper I sat down with yarn and needles and cast on a mitten cuff. I knew I had some100% wool that isn't fuzzy and I even knew where it was (once I searched and found it on Ravelry). I'm going to make the cuffs in this light gray and the hand in a darker gray. Just because I can. Maybe I'll even have a pair of mittens for the next time I have to blow or shovel the snow.
31 December--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview.
He sat there, still like he always sat, as if he had all the patience in the world.
"I want to rush into a physical relationship with you, Iggy, and yet I'm afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
Suddenly I could not meet his eyes. "I'm afraid that it's too soon since Jim died and people will talk."
"But Jim has not been on this island for, what, four years? When you arrived word went around that you are a widow of not many years but people do know that you are widow. They will not judge you for that. What else?"
I shook my head at my thoughts.
"What?" he asked again, smiling in the dark.
My words came out in a rush. "I love working with you, Iggy. I love talking to you and teasing you and being teased by you. You are my first real friend on Anguilla. What if we start a relationship again and it doesn't work out? Will I lose my electrician, my friend, and my lover all at once if we fight again?" I could hear the tears in my voice and took another drink to wash them away.
He reached out his hand and gently took mine. "Oh Rose, my Rosie, do not think that you will lose me so quickly. We can stop right now and I will not be angry." He chuckled.
"What?" I asked. "What's funny?"
He shook his head. "I have been trying so hard for two weeks now not to rush into this with you. I have been holding myself in, not touching your face, not kissing those sassy lips, not putting my hand on you some way every day. I can wait a while longer, I think, if you need me to."
Suddenly I realized that I was not willing to wait. I could not wait for some nebulous day in the misty future when I stopped feeling married to Jim and able to move on into a new relationship.
Another drop of perspiration slide down my spine making me shiver, but this time it was not a shiver of trepidation but a shiver of anticipation. I tipped back my head and drained my glass. Then I took Iggy's glass from his hand and set it beside my empty one on the counter.
"I don't think there will be any more waiting tonight," I said as my hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him to me. My nipples felt hard when his chest crushed mine as his strong, long arms engulfed me in his embrace. Our mouths came together as if they had been meeting for years and we drank in each other like we had been thirsty for days.
Finally being in Iggy's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been building in me since almost the first time I saw him lounging against the front porch steps made my muscles tense and shiver with the strength of my feelings. When we took a breath and leaned away from each other, I took his hand and tugged him upright.
"I want to take a shower," I said in a low voice, "and I want you to wash my back.
His low chuckle pushed my desire to another level. I dropped his hand and went around the room quickly lighting jarred candles, carrying the last into the spacious bathroom with the shower stall for two at the end. Putting the candle jar below the mirror doubled the light in the room without the need to turn on the glaring ceiling light. I turned and found Iggy had not moved from his place in the kitchen. I went back to him and tugged him to get his feet moving. "Come on, Iggy," I said, "you probably want to clean up too."
Dear god, I thought, please let him help me through this. Make him wake up to the fact that I'm running right now on desire and fear in equal parts. I need him to do some of this.
Almost as soon as the thought left my mind he moved. His hand came to life in mine and he gently turned me into his embrace. "You are sure that this is what you want?" he said against my lips.
I couldn't think straight with that kind of sensation dancing along my veins. "I'm sure. You're what I want, right now." My prayers had never been answered so quickly and so enjoyably.
I went to Pick 'n Save this afternoon on my way home from the brewery to pick up the three items that I forgot to put on the Meijer shopping list yesterday. Arrgh. Here I'm trying to be so cautious and then go and forget something. I had to go get the stuff because it isn't worth paying $5 for pickup or $10 for delivery of $6 worth of groceries but I was extra careful, wore my mask, and used hand sanitizer when I got into the car and washed my hands first thing when I got home. I think I'll make the first recipe tomorrow. Investment Cooking begins!
Happy New Year!