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I don't even know the words to it!


August 14, 2005 - 11:30 a.m.

Just got out of BWI, where I got Fawn onto her airplane in plenty of time. Airports have lately seemed a strange and difficult place to see someone off... there's no closure to them, because you say goodbye, and then say goodbye again when they're done shuffling through the line to get to the first security check, then again when they look back before going through the metal detectors... it's like the end of The Bridges Of Madison County (the movie version).

This is a complex and rich lady. This was a complex and rich weekend. It was one of those times you can spend with someone that seems to rush by, yet also takes its time and unfolds slowly.

How much do you want to know?

Fawn liked all the cats, but was rather overwhelmed by them (and a mystery cat whiff from somewhere in the dining room that I had not been able to locate in my whirlwind of cleaning and vacuuming last week). I realized that because it had been quite a while since anyone new had spent any real time with them, they sort of all latched onto her because she was the new and unusual fixture in the room. Bert was his usual berfy self, Henry was a consummate suckup, Marnie and Gina were their usual kitten selves, and The Whale said her name over and over. Even Tucker and Audrey came out to check her out.

I think I underestimate what it's like to be swarmed by my cats.

She liked them. She liked the house. She liked the land a lot. She said she could do without some of the clutter and the aforementioned mystery cat whiff, but after a determined effort with each of us armed with a spray bottle of Febreze (salvation of modern civilization), the issue was resolved, at least until I get home and figure out who managed to squeeze behind what piece of furniture and piddle in an unapproved location.

And she liked... me!

I got over to BWI Friday evening to pick her up, and had to do only two or three laps around the perpetually-under-construction arrivals area before we saw each other and she was able to reach the Saab. Tip for you short-distance travelers into BWI: don't check baggage, and you will be able to get out of there a lot faster. You don't actually need all that underwear or four pairs of shoes. BWI is a great place if you want to get out of the airport area fast, because even on busy evenings, you can be out on I-95 in less than five minutes.

And the talking began.

We talked about random stuff all through dinner, and on the drive home. We got there just as it was getting hazy and dark -- it's been well into the upper 90s the last few days, oddly coinciding with Fawn's visit -- and Fawn got to see what tha valley looks and sounds like as darkness comes down. It was as if she wanted to see everything all at once. I showed her the house, introduced her to the cats, the spring water and the mysteries of my bathroom.

I was enormously pleased that she never uttered the word "potential" once during her visit. As in, "this house has such potential," with the implication that, well, it sucks now.

We listened to a lot of music and stayed up late talking about lots and lots of things... what was going on at work, how things are going with her mother, who is a little ill right now, and a small surgical procedure coming up for Fawn in the next couple of weeks.

Somehow, the physical connection we had had when we met a few weeks ago, when she was in DC for business, held. She's the most natural-feeling woman to hold I've met in a long time. She's about 5'6" and a very thin 135, though like many older women, she's denser than she looks, so she looks more like 110 or 115. Her eyes are gray-green and her hair is somewhat darker than mine, and quite short. I felt like a walrus next to her, and I'm smaller than I've been in a while.

In any case, we stayed awake very late listening to music and exploring each other. The air conditioner cycled on and off and kept the room from getting too warm and humid, and in the morning we got up horribly late. No big emergency, since our main plan for the day was to go to the fair and talk with goats and cows and giant vegetables. After lunch down at the diner down the valley, we went to the fair.

It was incredibly hot, and this led to the smallest crowds I'd ever seen there. Not even "crowds," really, but isolated clumps of people trying to find shade and water. The most puzzling sight we ran across were a half-dozen young women in the goat and sheep barn, for some reason dressed way too formally for the 95-degree heat: some sort of uniform for (I think) the Future Farmers of America, though I always thought farmers (future or not) would be more practical than dressing up in dark wool skirts, high heels and black nylons and carrying heavy corduroy jackets in the heat. We couldn't figure it out, and neither could the goats.

Fawn seems to like sheep and goats, and talked with them and scratched their ears the way they like. We visited with some cows, all of whom were breathing like big locomotives in the heat of the barns. We also got to talk to a guy who always puts up a live display of honeybees in one of the crafts buildings. Fawn peppered him with questions because she's a gardener, and we both learned stuff we didn't know about bees, though I am still sure my bees (in my barn) are bumblebees, not carpenter bees.

I was amazed at the lack of produce in the displays. There was only one entry for cayennes, and they were pretty lame. The first-place jalapeno winner was a plate of rather woody-looking, not-very-uniform peppers I would have cut up for salsa. The giant pumpkins are far from giant at this point in the summer, though I expect by next month the Frederick Fair will feature some true multi-hundred-pound monsters.

We went over and watched part of the antique tractor pull, and I explained about the pull and about old tractors in general, but the heat was starting to get to both of us. After pictures in front of the giant fiberglass Turkey Hill cow, we retreated to Bippy's for a drink and to relax in the newly-repaired air conditioning.

Almost out of nowhere on the way home, some conflict came up. I had asked Fawn what she thought so far, and she responded that she was sort of uncomfortable with the cats, and while that should have been a simple thing, the way she said it seemed to connote that she thought I was wrong to have them, or wasn't taking proper care of them. I don't know, maybe it was the heat or the excitement or the energy collapse from having been cleaning all week, but I took it very badly and was very hurt by it. I mean, I really take my cats seriously, and when anyone even begins to suggest I'm not looking after them (even if it's sometimes at the expense of wear and tear on my house or possessions) I get very upset. This just hit me wrong.

We got home, and we talked for more than an hour, and I could see she hadn't meant to be hurtful and I realized I was overreacting to someone who just hadn't gotten the hang of talking with me. After both of us got pretty emotional and after the conversation got into a lot of new areas, we decided to go out to dinner at a nice place on the mountain near where I live, and we got moderately dolled up and went out.

Fawn has a butt that skirt designers must have on the wall somewhere as a model. She had brought a simple top and a black tailored skirt that just fit perfectly. She's not a big fan of heels (fairly sensibly, since one of her knees has a torn something-or-other in it, hence, the upcoming surgery) but she is one of those rare women who don't seem to need the little uplift that a heel gives to the calf. Melody was the same sort, though when she did pull out heels, the sculpting of her calves was spectacular.

Anyway, we had a long, pleasant dinner, shared some escargot and a lot more talk, and then went home. She had to fly out early today, so we couldn't stay up all night, though we did manage to stay up pretty late talking and making some very nice and intense love.

I had forgotten how nice it could be to wake up in my house with someone next to me I liked. It's been a while. A damn long while.

The amazing thing about this weekend is that not once did my little frustration light come on... Fawn is observant, had great hearing and vision, has a voice that's easy to listen to and nice to hear, and she knows the words to Edith Piaf's "C'Etatait Une Histoire D'Amour."

I don't even know that.

I showed her my podcasts, explained to her the difference between MP3s, internet radio and podcasting, and learned to my surprise that not long ago she went out and bought a G5 iMac. She hasn't figured out how to connect her DSL to the thing yet, but I told her I could talk her through it from afar.

OK, let's look at the stats, here:


  • Smart
  • Attractive
  • Sings
  • Likes cats
  • Likes my house
  • Likes me
  • Knows French chanson
  • Has a better Mac than me
  • Has cute calves
  • Will travel

Holy shit.


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