You might not realize it, but those of you reading the blog have known Sparks for a long time now. The pickles? His. He’s the one who owns a canner and… well… knows how to can stuff. The dried fruit? His. He’s the one who owns the dehydrator. The charming country getaway? His parents’ house. The Habitat hat? For him. The SCUBA diving? Him, him, him. The vacation to Bonaire was already scheduled when we met in June, and I got certified super-quick and was tacked on to the guest roster.
You’ve also seen his body parts around the blog for some time now… it has become a running joke in his family (who all read this blog daily, it seems) to “spot Sparks” in any new post. I won’t bother to re-run those pictures, but if you find yourself without any paint to watch dry, scroll back and look for the deep tan and the athletic sandals. That will be him.
Sparks enjoys cooking ethnic food, gardening, working on his Volvo, collecting vintage LPs, and fiddling with vacuum tubes. He is a cat person. He runs 5K three times a week. He has actually been to the Irish bogs which fascinate me… and which I have somehow never mentioned on this blog. Once, he spent a summer in Nepal. As you can see from this picture, he can and does fix computers (on days that he isn’t wearing his “No I will not fix your computer” shirt). His nickname is cute because he regularly shocks himself while at work (and I’m working on associating those shocks with not telling me that he just shocked himself again) and because once upon a time, he cut a live electrical cord with a pair of metal shears… in his sleep (lord, my hair is going gray already). For those of you who offered to remind him how lucky he is should he need reminding–aw shucks, and don’t worry, he won’t. He’s sweeter than sugar syrup on sugar-flavored ice cream with sugar sprinkles. At 28, I was just real sure that I had missed my chance to snag “one of the good ones”. Once again, life surprised me and sent me the very best one.
To those of you who noted that I’m young… you’re right! Keep saying that! Say it two years from now when I turn 30! Say it when I’m 40, 50, 60, and 70! 28 doesn’t feel very young when your life still isn’t “settled”. Every day of these past four months I have felt lucky, blessed, grateful, and blissfully happy. Momma was right… you can’t hurry love, you just have to wait. I’m sorry that there are so many years of our lives we’ve spent apart, but then, if everything hadn’t been timed the way it was, we would never have met–so we’re both perfectly satisfied with the way things turned out. As I said to him the first time we met, “there will be time, there will be time… time for you and time for me.”
But that’s another blog entry.