Somehow, in the relative blink of an eye, two years exactly have passed since I met, tackled, captured and subdued Mike Neir, tricking him somehow into falling in love with me.
I’m still not quite sure how I managed to be this fortunate – fairly certain it’s some sort of scheduling oversight in the head office.
Look at me – I am a nearly forty-year-old nutjob with weirdo values and obsessions (gardens, chickens, deep space video games, Ethiopian food) who has peculiar food restrictions and can be stubborn to excess. What’s not to love, right?
For his part, he is a guitar-playing, computer-engineering, laid back genius who not only puts up with my shenanigans, but encourages me to follow my impulses. He builds me raised garden beds and modifies chicken coops to suit my whims. He eats the food I cook!
At this point, I can’t imagine life without him – he’s that cliched Other Part of Me, the better half, the completion, et cetera.
And he has a great butt.
And awesome sideburns.
Getting our life started and put together is a wonderful journey of discovery and companionship, and I think I just threw up a little in my mouth with the sappiness, so I’ll just say – Mike Neir, you totally awesome, hot, dirty hippy of a boy – I love you bunches.