Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. ~Rainer Maria Rilke
Thursday, November 10, 2011
The Other Woman... Revisited
It's probably the young woman who waited for her love to come back from the war 66 years ago. I wrote about it over a year ago and yes, she is still here.
For those of you who didn't know me then. I will direct you to this post and this one so you can understand my dilemma. Because her beautiful body is back in the Prospector's head...
and she's calling his name.
Wednesday the Prospector (out of the blue) says, " I'm going down to the storage place. I need to get the battery out of the Chevy. "We" need to get the car started again... be sure she's OK."
"We"? I asked.
"I may need some help rolling her out of the shed and back in if I can't get to the battery."
I knew that she was calling his name. He hadn't mentioned her all summer. He had been busy with other projects. I guess the "honey do" list wasn't long enough.
The Prospector jumped out and unlocked the door, then he stood there for a moment and just looked at the car.
Why does he have to be so open about this affair of the heart? It's way too obvious.
Then I turned around and opened the driver's side door and looked in.
Then I looked at the back seat.
Anyway, I looked back toward the steering wheel and that's when I saw this foggy stuff.
Yes, Farmlady... maybe you've been spending too much time alone on the mountain talking to the goats and the deer. Maybe you are seeing things.
The Prospector opened the passenger door and when he did this, the fog disappeared instantly. He spent about 10 minutes getting the battery out from under the floor board. It was in an awkward place and was strapped down.
We finally got the battery out without having to roll the car out of the storage space.
Then the Prospector looked under her hood... right in front of me.
He has no sense of allegiance to our relationship when he is around this floozy and he has started talking again about fixing her up. He wants to take her back to her original, young, beautiful self.
No wonder she's calling his name.
She better not call mine. She's trouble I tell you.
She will cost him a lot of money and take him places he may not want to go.
I don't know how to fight this woman. She's beautiful in a classic sort of way. She has huge headlights, a lot of chrome and white wall tires.
The Prospector did build me a potting shed this summer. I know he loves me.
We're like good felted fabric... strong, almost waterproof and connected forever, but this other woman is a powerful object of his affection.
I will have to engage in some clever subterfuge.
I will find her weaknesses.
I will let this relationship continue...
for a while.