Oh Boy

Redbeard doesn’t snore.

And his house is clean but lived in. He has an affinity for symmetry that is so embedded, he’s hardly aware of it. This is evidenced by his fridge magnets, wall hangings, towels, and door posters. Things appear around his house with intention and I recognize this because I, too, and comforted by order and intentionality in the home.

He only has one clock in his entire house with a second hand (score!) and he wears Old Spice (double score!). My affinities may be odd, but they are distinct enough that when I see something that’s always felt like home, I recognize it.

He has an entire room devoted to making music: electric and acoustic guitars, keyboard, soundboard, recorder, and mandolin; all of which can be hooked up to his extremely cutting edge Macintosh computer with Garage Band software.

He also has an upright piano in his living room, antique furniture from his grandmother throughout the house, Earth Balance (non-dairy butter substitute) and organic eggs in his fridge, and quotes from Alan Watts on the wall. He’s particularly fond of his cat, who acts like a dog.

He opens doors but without fanfare. He picks up the tab. He notices my handmade scarf. He reaches for my hand. He asks if I need cough syrup. He says, “You’re intense but you’re also really fun,” which seems accurate to me though I wouldn’t have said it that way myself. He asks to read my stories. Then he reads them. Then he tells me what he thinks and asks for more.

In other words: so far, he’s passing every test…even the ones I didn’t even know existed.