and there are schemings afoot�

plans in the works�

my TT knows how much i *heart* a surprise, he does. my sweet boi with scrapes on his fingers from helping me with my window box garden this weekend�my man with his anxious work dreams�the one who writes me this morning i miss you already.

and this weekend,
which i do not want to elevate to pedestal proportions/expect too much from,
but in any case fills me with a sense of childhood wonder and bliss�as if 8 and not 28�
this weekend, as every before in the past few years, will be us and he and i and together and family�
and something in addition to this? amazing!

my present to him, a tattoo design of a tree for his right arm...wrist and over the shoulder � branches intertwined and growing, still � and semi-funding of the project. this is a gift of creativity, a gift from a dream of mine, from the canvas of thought.

eeep�hide the cheesei wonder if this man will tire of my drawings�poems, sculptures�lipstick hearts in the tub�
i wonder if he will tire of my voice in the shower, our thousand kisses before sleep � stretched over one of the sandwiched cats, their relentless purrings of bliss and warmth.