A friend of mine once told me that it takes four seasons to know a man.  The FC and I are nearing the end of our fourth and final season. Autumn.


The crisp fall weather brought us some major excitement. The FC and I bought a cottage (in Quebec “cottage” means a house) and we’ll most likely be moving in May. He also met my family and passed “the Irene test ” with flying colours (though admittedly it’s not much of a test because my mother, having three daughters, loves having surrogate sons in her home and was already asking his sweater size for future presents.)  But in all the excitement we also faced a little heartbreak too, and this is where the FC really shines.


I’m now more sure then ever that the FC is not a fairweather boyfriend. He consistently impresses me with his faith in our future, his desire to jump hurdles, make sacrifices and face my contradictions, fears, limitations (and endless articulations of those limitations) with a sense of hope and humour.


It’s funny, but when I first started this blog (because of him, back in the spring) I wanted it to be funny (what else can you do with a name like “cooking for cock?”) but these days I’m feeling more sentimental then quippy,  less interested in making sexual puns and more interested in really understanding the nature of love. Sure the FC and I laugh together all the time, but there’s also a gravity and seriousness that has settled into my very core, a respectful reverent wonder and awe and thankfulness for what I’ve been given even if, for whatever reason, it doesn’t reach another Autumn.


(But I truly hope it will.)



photo by Yoojung Seo

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