I don't generally use the lyrics of Paula Abdul as a personal mantra but as Troy and I bantered back and forth on the way home from church this morning I realized that opposites really do attract. The truth is, if we wanted to get a divorce, I would simply sight irreconcilable differences. We don't want to get divorced, mind you, but we are just not on the same page when it comes to weather. Or temperature. Or natural forces. Let's take today's weather, for example. I would trade a whole heap of snow for the hideous wind we have smacking us in the faces on this very day. My husband, he likes it. He thinks it feels like twenty puppies are licking his face. Okay, so he didn't say that exactly. He said something about how it feels cleansing. Cleansing to have dust thrown all over you. Really? And then something about how it gives him some sort of dirt facial. Or something. I don't know, I'd stopped listening. But I don't like dirt facials. I don't think the wind is cleansing. I think it messes up my hair and makes my ears hurt if it's cold and sounds eerie when it moans through the rafters.
Troy hates the sun. He has sensitive eyes and overheats in record speed. If I would consent to live in a bat cave, he'd elect me wife of the year. I will not consent to such nonsense because who in their right mind hates the sun? The sun is warm. The sun is bright and shiny. The sun is crisp and clean and glorious. Troy doesn't like it because it chases the rain away. I think his brain has grown mildew as a result of so many rainy years in the northwest. Clearly his water socked head is effecting his ability to think rationally. If it rained, constantly, in that bat cave, he'd elect me wife of the decade. I don't mind a little rain here and there to brighten up the greens and wipe away the dust, but if more than a few days pass without my splendid sunshine, you can bet my world is going to feel upside down and all twisty inside.
We agree on so many things. Before we were married, we went though a book called The Hard Questions by Susan Piver. I'm not sure that two people with such strong personalities ever got through this book with such flying colors. Out of 100 questions, I think there were 2 that we had even a slight difference of opinion on. Our goals and dreams and lifestyles line up in ways that have made our relationship very easy. And obviously, our shared faith and equal yoking has been the platform on which our marriage has stood. It's a good thing, however, that mother nature doesn't ask us our opinion on the weather because you can bet we'd have a long distance relationship. Occasionally I'd put on a coat and enter the rainy bat cave and he'd wear a bathing suit and step into my sun room.
Today someone told me that his idea of heaven was a German chocolate cake trampoline. I don't like coconut so I was left to ponder the fact that if I died and found myself sinking in German chocolate cake, I might think I had ended up in the wrong place. In John 14:2 Jesus says, "In my father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you." I'm pretty sure that Troy's room is in the basement. There is a constant mist, the gentle rumble of thunder, and wind for the times he needs a dirt facial. There is also an endless supply of brownies. My room is always 76 degrees, the sun shines in on me from an open window. I sit on the window seat and smile out at Lake Tahoe because, somehow, it is there too. Occasionally a gentle breeze blows the thin curtains just slightly. And in the center of the room is my giant tiramisu trampoline.
Ok. It's true we are weather opposites. To me slightly overcast with intermittant sunbursts and about 60 degrees is perfect. I do like cloudy days and even enjoy the rain as long as its not all day or too many days in a row. It's the price I willingly pay for vibrant greens, ferns, moss, and creeks and streams. I guess I lived in the Northwest too long. It got in my blood in ways I can't describe. Of course the few formative years I spent in Northern Minnesota have also given me a appreciation of real weather. By real I mean below zero icy blizzards and house rattling thunderstorms complete with lightning to put on a completely natural version of the 4th of July. Luckily, I didn't live in Minnesota too long. The hot summers and humidity definitely did not get in my blood (though the mosquitos drank a lot of it).
ReplyDeleteTo set the record straight, I never said that a I like a good dust facial. I do like the occasional strong wind blowing in my face. I especially like it on a barren, scenic Pacific coast looking out over dark waves and slightly grey skies with the wind whipping directly into your face. Some people find the greyness depressing, I find it relaxing, and contemplative. It's perfect for a good book, or a time of prayer, or hanging out with family.
I do however like the sun, as long as I have my sunglasses (stupid sensitive squinty eyes). It's the heat I'm not overly fond of.
It is true however, my room in heaven is probably in the basement.
troy
I have to agree, Troy is a bat. Lori, I'm with you, sun room all the way! :o)
ReplyDeleteShon and Troy are one in the same, must be "where they're from" - it's so sad they are WRONG! Sun Sun Sun!!!!!! It's the only good way to go. :)
ReplyDeleteI agree with Troy. Heat is lame. The sun is nice, but if it gets too hot, bring out the clouds to settle it down a bit. My room in Heaven is a tent. In the Sierras. Right next to a pristine alpine lake. After I go for a swim, I lie down on a warm slab of granite and watch the patchy clouds float by overhead. And there is a bear foraging in the trees nearby. What? Don't bears go to Heaven too?
ReplyDeleteSo why is the Bat Cave's owner's office like a sauna?
ReplyDelete