New Releases

Mystique

Washington · USA

It’s been a year. Hasn’t it?

In more ways than one.

Yes, 2020 has been one spent in seemingly endless topsy-turvydom (yes, that’s a word...) for everyone, and mere survival, quite literally, constitutes enough to declare bona fide victory.

Be we’ve done better than that, I think, you and I. Yes, we’ve endured our share of hardships, both shared and individually. The busted pipe, the 13 cubic yards of earth we decided to move out of the garden on the one snowy day in Portland (in March!), the disappointing mission creep of my workplace, one of our beloved neighbor families moving away, and the increasingly frequent and painful reminders that we’ll never be as young as we once were (I’ve pulled what muscle now, doc??!) to name just a few.

And, of course, the unexpected passing of our dear friend Dana. Of all the wounds we’ve endured, that one remains the deepest.

But we’ve also had cause for celebration: Your new job that’s restored your faith in the profession of nursing. The blood-, sweat-, and tears-driven evolution of our garden, still just in its infancy but already privileging us with the (properly distanced) company of friendly and admiring passers-by. Pop’s new job. Your sister’s family’s new fur baby and new home. The enduring company of our adoptive garden goldfinches, downy woodpeckers, bushtits, and hummingbirds (especially Chubby, my spirit animal). Even the amazingly positive response from our insurance company to earlier said busted pipe. And of course our neighbors, who (for example) under zero pressure, influence, or obligation but by the goodness of their hearts, volunteered to help us slog out those 13 cubic yards of earth through our snowy and boggy swale (my back hurts just thinking about that...).

Never in our four years of marriage has our anniversary fallen so close to Thanksgiving, but so it goes this year that they’re separated by just a day. There are a million different things about you and about our relationship that I’m endlessly thankful for, and the proximity of this holiday to our wedding day I have to think was preordained from the start. And as much as I’m bewildered by the mystery of what compelled you to hitch your wagon to such an imperfect soul, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for the lifelong opportunity not only to ponder it but, above all, to have faith in the power of its magic, without waver.

Happy Anniversary, Ashley.

Thank you.

I love you.

Tula

P.S. I know you said no gifts this year, but you said it too late. And you damn near busted me red-handed. Remember that package I retrieved from the mail coming back from one of our neighborhood walks that I told you was the neighbor’s surprise gift she’d addressed to me for safe keeping? Well, in fact it *was* a surprise gift, but one I had intended to send to *Shelly* to hold onto for *me* that the well-intentioned post office routed to me anyway (I shoulda left my name off the address altogether 🤦🏻‍♂️). So, that whole thing about me bringing it over to her while Dave was away was a ruse. With Shelly’s generous cooperation, I’ve since retrieved it, and it’s sitting in the tool chest drawer where all the rechargeable batteries are.

Hope you like it. Sorry for the deception.

Surprise. 🙃

From Fall