stormy--'s Diaryland Diary

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The Day I met a dog named Daisy.

I’m tired. Just not sleepy tired. Does that make sense? It’s kind of like when you’re hungry but not hungry-hungry. Like when you could definitely chow down on some nachos and a couple of tacos, but if the only option is to nosh a salad then you’ll just go without. That’s the kind of tired I am.

I spent the day with my cop friend. He had the whole day off and, when he came over to check out my window and door locks earlier this week, he said he wanted to spend it with me. It was incredible sweet of him to want to spend his free day with me. I, of course, hedged a little. But it’s not for the reason you think. None of that wishy-washy “I don’t know how I feel about him liking me” type of stuff. I promise. (Stay tuned. If I remember, I’ll get to why I say that.) Nope, my hesitation had to do with the fact that I had already made plans on visiting this fruit farm that’s about and hour and a half away from me.

This fruit farm is pretty much in the middle of nowhere and has a small store attached to one of the barns. All year round they sell produce, nuts, cheeses, etc…. It’s really good stuff and you can’t get it any fresher. Every year the first weekend of the fall they bake and sell the most awesome sweet treats and pastries. My favorites: the pumpkin cheese cake, pumpkin cookies, and their caramel apples. Yum! And I know what you’re thinking. “What’s so special about a caramel apple? If you had one caramel apple you’ve had them all.” Wrong! I don’t know how they do it but the caramel is just so thick and creamy and their apples are so sweet and crunchy. And those mass produced caramel apples you see in grocery stores are nothing compared them. Every year the farm has a set amount of treats that they’ll make and once it’s gone - it’s gone. I look forward to this day so much that I actually signed up for the fruit farm’s newsletter just so there’s no chance I miss out. Today is like Black Friday but for pumpkin connoisseurs and sugar addicts. So, naturally, I had to make it there today to make sure I get all of my favorites.

When I told my cop friend that I kind of had plans to go to the fruit farm, he offered to drive me. And there wasn’t any way I could argue with that. Actually, I was looking forward to spending some time with him (even I’m shocked I’m admitting it). But still I was unsure if it was a good idea. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend time with him or have him join me. I was just a little self conscious about the amount of baked goods that I was going to buy. Like I mentioned before, this is like the Black Friday of sweet treats. There was no holding me back.

And I did go a little crazy. I bought my pumpkin cheese cake, two packs of pumpkin cookies, my caramel apples, a bag of white taffy (which I can’t seem to find anywhere but there), a few apple cider donuts (they freeze very well), a pumpkin loaf (which I’m assuming is something like a nut bread. I’m not 100% sure. If just looked and swelled delicious!), and two packs of 12 peanut butter cookies (They’re huge! They’re the size of small plates and the absolute best! I’m sending a package to my sister and the other is all mine!) I also bought a few veggies and a brick of mozzarella cheese, but I’m not as super excited about those.

The craziness didn’t end there. They also had a field where you can pick your own pumpkins (I bought 6) and I even bought a bale of hay to decorate with. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking with the hay. I just know that I’ve seen a lot of people decorate their yards with them. And it made sense to pick one up. After all, I had my cop friend’s big pickup truck to lug all of my purchases home so it was easy to simply tell them to throw in a bale of hay with everything else. Right now it’s sitting on the side of my garage because I have no idea what I’m going to do with it yet.

After we did our shopping (my cop friend also bought some veggies and some peanut butter cookies, so I didn’t feel totally embarrassed with all of my purchases), he drove me home where I put away all of my goodies (and veggies) while he unloaded my pumpkins and hay bale. Then it was off to his house where I got to meet his dog.

Daisy is a 12 year old German shepherd. She’s the friendliest dog and is really a big ole puppy. But she does have some joint problems and arthritis. And as much as she loves going on long walks, she can’t go too far. So, my cop friend has this collapsible wagon into which he shoves a soft, thick dog bed. During walks when it looks like she’s getting tired, he simply picks her up, sets her inside, and continues on. She gets to feel the wind in her hair and sniff and see what’s happening all around the neighborhood without hurting her body.

That’s exactly what happened when we took Daisy for a walk today. I must say, my heart melted a little when I saw how accommodating he was towards his dog. And, when he was pulling Daisy in her wagon with one hand and then reached over to hold my hand with his other as we walked, I didn’t mind at all.

For dinner he grilled chicken and potatoes and he had a salad already prepared in his fridge. By the time I was done I was so full I didn’t even want to nibble on any of the sweet treats we bought earlier today. The rest of the night we sat outside (even Daisy found a comfy spot to lounge in) and talked until it got so dark we almost couldn’t see. That’s when I told him it was time for me to go home. He wanted me to stay a little longer but I used the fact that he has to work early tomorrow as an excuse for an early exit.

It’s just a lot for me to get used to - the hand holding, the way he would sometimes rub my back or arm, and that thing where he tucks my hair behind my ear. It’s all very sweet but also felt kind of intimate and I need to baby step my way into these types of things. And, when he brought me home and walked me inside to make sure I was safe and sound, he kissed me. Actually, he kissed me twice. The first time I was not expecting it, and when he pulled away I know I was probably looking like a deer caught in some headlights. He looked worried when he asked me if it was okay. It took me several seconds but I told him it was. That’s when he kissed me again and I kissed him back. It was a simple kiss yet very, very nice.

So, if you already haven’t guessed, I’ve decided to give him a try. Man, that sounds horrible when I type it out. He’s a person not an appliance that I could simply return to the store if I’m disappointed. But, I think you get what I mean. I’m willing to see where things will go with him - if anywhere. It’s quite possible he just wants to be friends. I mean, I’ve had guy friends kiss me before. Granted, it was nothing like that. But still…. Anything is possible.

I decided to see where things would go with us after having a long conversation with my sister. It was after he asked me to spend today with him. I was venting to my sister how I had ruined one of my favorite days of the fall and how I should make up an excuse and cancel before it was too late. I gave her every excuse I could think of - I have way too much emotional baggage that I need to sort out first, I need to focus on my career, etc…. Any excuse I could find I threw at her. And basically she told me (in a loving way) that I was full of crap. I even told her that I was too squishy to go out with him. Those were my exact words - “too squishy”. It’s true though.

Anyone who reads this little diary of mine should know about my weakness for M&Ms and basically any type of snack. My cupboards are stuffed full of the stuff I’ve purchased (Notice the “s” on the end of the word cupboard. I started off with a snack shelf which turned into snack shelves which turned into cupboard which is now cupboards. Two full cupboards to be exact. Yeah…. That’s kind of embarrassing to admit.). I’m not fat but I’m definitely curvy and my belly, thighs, boobs, behind - basically my whole body - is squishy. And, for the most part, I’m totally okay with that. I don’t want to be stick thin (years and years ago I was really thin and I hated it!). I don’t want to have to count every calorie, workout like a madman, and weigh myself every day. To me it’s just not worth it and I have more important things to do and experience rather than worry what anyone else thinks about my body. I do yoga most days but I also enjoy nibbling on some treats now and then. I feel comfortable in my own skin and I’m happy. I like myself just the way I am.

Having said that, I started to feel very self conscious when I compared my body to my cop friend’s. He works out most days and he runs. Last weekend I caught myself staring at the muscle definition of his upper arms as he checked out my windows. Any muscle definition I might have is buried under a layer of squishy stuff. And tonight I saw inside his refrigerator. It was full of fruits, veggies, chicken and fish. And here I am with two designated snack cupboards. It’s like that Sesame Street song - “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn’t belong….” (Man, that song came from deep, deep, DEEP within the recesses of my brain!)

My sister had a good comeback to my “I’m too squishy” comment. She told me that he knew that I was “squishy” the moment he met me and still liked me. Maybe he likes squishiness in a woman. And, she said that I would be doing him and myself a great disservice if I use any of my excuses as a reason to push him away. And she’s right. I like him. I really do. I don’t want to push him away simply because I’m scared.

So, we’ll see…. I might have to call my sister for some more encouragement whenever I feel a freak out coming on, but I’m doing this. (I am going to try keeping my snack cupboards a secret though!) I’m going to just let things flow and see where he and I go. Squishy parts and all.

*

11:04 p.m. - 2020-09-26

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