Now that you've said, "I do..."

There are so many things I like about being married. Things I'd never thought of, but have already made me laugh (and sometimes cry). For instance:

Dave was out of town for work Monday through Thursday, and I had the weirdest, inescapable back pain for most of the week. I just felt generally unwell and went to work from home Wednesday afternoon. Around 3:00, someone came in the back door. I assumed it was the landlord (we're expecting a new roof any day now), and called, "Hello?" Dave came around the corner! His bosses asked after me and sent him home when they found out I was sick! I bawled my eyes out on and off all afternoon.

We've only been married three weeks, and there are a lot of "single person" habits we're having to break. My favorite one of Dave's is turning the bathroom light off on me as we get ready for bed. Cracks me up every time!

Last night, around 2 a.m., I woke up in an instant and sneezed violently. I felt Dave jerk next to me, and heard a very bleary "bless you." I can't put into words how grateful I am for this wonderful man.

So have a little grace for me if the next couple of WriteMe posts have more to do with marriage anecdotes than actual writing. I'm hoping to strike a balance soon.

Zorro has no power over the weather.

I recently started reading Isabel Allende's Zorro and was surprised at how easily I fell into it. It's a delightful book, the characters are endearing, and the plot moves along at a good clip with pleasant surprises in store. My only complaint was that the 3rd person omniscient narrator suddenly interrupts on page 89 with his own voice and alludes to his role in the story. It's terribly abrupt, and (I looked) the only other place he speaks is literally the very first sentence. Jarring.

But my complaint against the narrator is beside the point. The book had been recommended to me over and over, and I finally read it, loved it, and couldn't wait to see what happened next.

That's when we had a week or so of violent thunderstorms. And this little guy

got frightened while the fiance and I were at the gym. And he took it out on Zorro:

Of course, I immediately tried to find which page I'd been on and see if I'd lost any valuable story information. The two main characters have a pivotal experience in the ten pages between where I stopped reading and where Puck deemed I should pick back up. I'm off to Grumpy's this week to find another copy and finish that story. And the house has been puppy-proofed - mostly.

He who is drowned is not troubled by rain.

I'm having trouble breathing. This is a fantastic short story - ethereal, clean, with elements just beyond what you can (or want to) grasp. And this folk tale has always haunted me:

Half Flight

My favorite retelling of it was "Daughter of the Forest," by Juliet Marillier. Look it up. But don't waste time on the sequels.