Tag Archive | winter fling

A Tolkien of My Affection

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I like to play this game (which I invented) with friends and lovers. It’s called Tolkien of My Affection. To play you’ve had to have read Tolkien (not just watched the movies), so you’re up on all the characters. But beyond that, it’s pretty simple. Recently I played this with Fling while at a cafe.

It consists of two questions.

  1. Which character is (the person your playing with)?
  2. Which character are you?

After you type your answers, you simultaneously text each other those answers. Then you explain why you chose each character.

My answers were Narsil and Isildur.

  • Fling is very much the man who cut the ring from Sauron’s hand and paid for it. (Though I like to think he’s currently being reforged).
  • I, alas, am very much the person who can do great things, but never the one small most important of all things.

Fling’s answers were Bill the Pony and Samwise Gamgee.

  • Fling said I’m brave, but I’ve been with bad men. Yet I’m wiser now and in good company with someone who cares and would not drag anyone into needless danger.
  • He sees himself as dependable, down to earth, closest of companions, and occasional protector. A through thick and thin, to hell and back sort of guy.

I have to say Fling’s answers were a bit worrisome. Sam turned Bill loose at the Gates of Moria. True, they were reunited, but . . . . Are the Gates of Moria on our horizon?

Tolkien of My Affection is a dangerous game. On the surface of it, the object is simply to understand the other person and yourself a little better. However, very often you find out a lot about yourself, and the other person, and what sort of relationship you think you have with them and they think they have with you.

You know, like, why did both Fling and I see ourselves as humanish creatures (semi-elvish royalty; rude hobbit) but each other as non-humanish creatures (magical sword; intelligent pony).  Why did each of us see the other as something subject to our power: Isildur owns and uses Narsil, Sam owns and uses Bill. What does this say about us as individuals? About our relationship?

This game is a bit like the Ring itself. Once you pick it up, you can’t stop playing with it. So if you haven’t picked it up, For Galadriel’s sake don’t. It will drive you mad.

The Paperwhites

 

 

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So Winter Fling (think Aragorn, but with less of an accent) brought me a plastic bag stamped Home Depot the other night. Romantic? Yes.

 

It contained a box of paperwhites (Narcissus papyraceus to be exact), a plastic pot, and a ball of coir medium. Home Depot/science project/ daffodils? Fling totally gets me. Bless him.

Paperwhites are the perfect flower for indoor winter growing. They bloom in a few weeks, and fill your home with a wonderful musk scent. When they die back, you can plant them in the garden for next spring. Short-term pleasure; long-term joy.

 

 

 

 

I may have to keep Fling past New Year’s. Maybe till the start of Lent (Feb 13th)? But, then what about Valentine’s Day?

Oh, why does love have to be so complicated! Why can’t I just force it to bloom when I want and then when I’m done with it bury it out in the garden!

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Good Me, Bad Me . . . E’gad, Me.

This is good me.

And let’s be clear, even good me is not very good.

This is me rolling my eyes toward heaven and thinking something along the lines of “hmm, do I write him back and say I’m breaking it off (because he’s just not intellectual enough), or do I just string him along for the holidays because I’ve nothing better on and I hate going to holiday parties without an escort.”

Like I said, good me, still not very good.

But bad me? Oh so very bad.

On any given day, you might meet either me, or even both mes. Some days even I don’t know which I am, so I can’t make you any promises. But I try to keep the balance tipped slightly to the good. It’s easy to do because good me has a great sense of humor that, once deployed, can override almost any deviltry bad me can concoct.

I think on balance I’m rather normal. Except, I tend to enjoy my life more than most because I’m not terribly introspective. Introspection is such a buzz kill. Live your life, don’t analyze it.

People hate this about me, my joie de vivre. Or they do until they realize it’s something they can have too.  You can love life every day, even when people die, or your home is swept away, or your life’s work goes up in flames, or . . . .

Loving life is about loving being alive. Now.

Wow. That’s starting to sound introspective. I’d better stop.

Good Me needs to write a letter; Bad Me needs to find a winter fling.