A very strange Australian video inspired me today. Apparently, Roy & HG was a really popular Australian show, and Fatso the wombat is a mascot that won the gold medal for ‘bombing’ — diving. Roy & HG have a whole series called “The Dream” in which they spew random commentary for real Olympic sport footage. This one was the best.
bad at laundry.
I leave socks everywhere. I kick them off in bed, while sitting on my desk, on the floor after a run. My husband (well, BF at the time) made a joke that my black socks looked a lot like slugs, and christened them “foot slugs(TM)”. Now, any time they’re seen randomly on the carpet, he jokes that they’re ‘wild foot slugs’ and urges me to catch them and put them back in the cage (closet drawer) where they belong.
I began this blog because its’ a tribute of sorts to my wonderful, amazing life partner, who has taught me to view life through a lens of humour and creativity.
Respectively, we’re called by these nicknames:
We’re polar opposites. He’s logical and organized, I’m impulsive and chaotic. He gets distressed to see random pieces of paper laying around on a desk. For me, I use those papers as notepads, plates (ew), cleaning material, bookmarks. Years ago, when we met, he swore he would find a way to indoctrinate me in the ways of cleaning and organizing. As of now, he’s still trying, though progress is being made at “glacier speed”.
This blog is mostly about our domestic life together, our challenges, and the small stories and imaginary scenarios that make this modest life such a treasure and gift.
HOW WE MET:
Then it progressed. He found out more or less what I was…
So…he tried. That was some years ago.
Of course, nobody believes their romantic partner is ever going to be perfect. There are dealbreakers, such as heavy addiction to drugs, forced religious conversion, domestic violence, and unrepentant cheating. There’s a grey zone in between partner “pros” and “cons” that might as well be categorized as “weird shit.”
It’s the stuff that is neither evil nor good, but which just makes no sense whatsoever.
He also has…some ideas about what I’m like. Here’s how he sees me..
**His sketch of how I show up in his imagination and dreams**