Monday, August 5, 2013

Ode to HubsJ

because he really needs one, and because it is overdue.  (although my style is somewhat missing today, and i am relying on bullets to make points)

a poorly formatted ode

inexplicably passionate guy, right down to calling the grassgreen color a hallucinagenic, his wife a rare beauty (he does, all the time) ... and going into raptures over cloud formations and forgetabout the swallows, forgetaboutit.
Energy spills into painting rearranging, refrigerator cleansings, shutter hangings and the everpresent book sortings. 
Dinnertimes are rich, varied, and above all... fabulously tasty.  He shows his love in his kettles, the clangs of pots and pans and the slice and dice of vegetable.  It is how we continue to grow. (yesterday for lunch, i had tomatoes drizzled in oil and balsamic, with mozzarella and fresh basil. 
He dances like a wild giraffe, and we love him for it.  all of us.  (although we chose to emulate slightly different styles... ) His joy is wilderness in action.  classic rock or jazz, reggae or choral beatitudes, he will rock it.
Sex? good lord. if you knew, you'd be jealous. yes, you would. take me at my word.
He is very masculine without being an asshole, full of sporty competitiveness whilst still being a teacher of beginning boys.  watch him play catch with my 8 for hours, and encourage the jumps of the five as he works on knowing his body and how it works.
He loves his work, mixing up duties with desires and doing his best for so many who give him (sometimes) so little.  He will quibble with my saying they give him little.  He is generous. He loves to be generous, he seems pretty good at it. . . .
He is part of his history, and working his way forward to a new understanding of where he is now. 
He is trying, falling down and getting back up over and over again. always getting back up.
always getting back up.
go for it, hubsJ.