if you're good, then the Magic

Two weeks ago, while driving home from work together, bike and Mr Burns in the back of the car, I told Joe the formative story of my entire childhood, from The Little Princess.  Either I hadn't told him this story before for reals, or I have and he's forgotten or was letting me tell him again -- regardless, we spent the 15-minute drive home (there was traffic), Joe at the wheel, me lost in the re-telling.  As I've written elsewhere, The Little Princess was pretty much My Book throughout my childhood, a book I re-read serially, this story -- and the film version starring Shirley Temple -- giving rise to our main game on Liberty Street, perhaps the only reason we always played Escape from the Orphanage.

The specific part of the book I was re-telling Joe was the morning poor humble good little Sara Crewe wakes up in her once-cold garrett and finds it transformed through the kindness of the gentleman next door (although she doesn't know this at the time).  Poor Sara had been a star pupil at the boarding school where she is now kept on as scullery drudge and tutor, dressed in the one black dress she'd possessed before her father died and left her pennyless.  But that one morning, she awakens and finds her surroundings transformed entirely. 

Before she opens her eyes, she becomes aware that she is warm for the first time in so long, she feels a down quilt over her, she tries not to awaken so as not to end the dream, but can't resist, opens her eyes and looks around, sees the transformation that took place while she was gone in dream.  She runs to fetch Becky to show and share with her what has happened, and cries out, about all the things that fill the room

It's true! It's true!  I've touched them all.  They are as real as we are.  The Magic has come and done it, Becky, while we were asleep -- the Magic that won't let those worst things ever quite happen.

This is what can happen, the story says, if you're good.  If you're really and truly good in your heart -- humble, compassionate, loving -- then when you fall on hard times, you won't be alone.  It might take a little while, but someone will recognize you for who you really are and restore the beauty to your life.  The Magic will come and do it.

Apparently I married this Magic.  Joe loves nothing better -- at least based on years of evidence -- than starting and finishing a project while I'm gone. This used to happen much more when I traveled regularly and extensively for work.  This is how I first met the house we live in now.  Joe found it while I was in Ukraine.  He figured out where the key was hidden, brought me by here on our way home from the airport, and showed it to me, proud of his find.  This is how the lawn was put in, while I was in Sarajevo, Joe working every moment of daylight so that it would be done when I returned, our landscape transformed.  This is the story of the built-in bookcase in our bedroom, that showed up one day after work, Joe having installed it on the sneak while I was in San Francisco.  This is the story of our bed, similarly snuck in mid-day.  This is the story of our new fence, started on Valentine's Day 2010.  This is the story of the new steps outside the French doors to our room, and the gravel by the driveway that says I love you.  This is how so many things in our immediate environment have changed and improved, all through his delight in my delight, the way he treasures making me cry out happily, clap and jump around.  

He is the Magic.

I'm sorry if this comes off as obnoxious bragging.  I think of it more as singing about my own good fortune, chirping my delighted early bird song, oh how good life is.

And so it was while I was at death camp last weekend in the boonies of Sebastopol (about which will come a separate post, soon).  I had a suspicion a project would happen, since it was the first time I was gone all day on a weekend in a long time.  When I pulled into the driveway, I was surprised, I'll admit, that the yard looked unchanged.  Not disappointed, but surprised that Joe hadn't turned up more of the lawn for garden beds, something I know he's dreaming of.  Surprised, not disappointed.  Then I opened the front door of the house to a funny smell.  And no one in sight.  I called out.  Still, no one.  I found them in the bedroom.

Stretched out on the bed which was in a new spot, Joe working another transformation, this one much simpler -- no construction involved -- moving the bed from where it has been for years, blocking smooth entry to our room, to the spot between the bookcases, shifting the window seat that had been there, unused, against a wall.  He got the idea a few months ago, so it's been on the list.  I wasn't sure about it, but have learned to just let go in these cases, since Joe's impulse is so often the correct one.  

Burnsy likes it too

What's maybe a little crazy is just how happy this one simple change has made me.  I love our room in a way I didn't before.  Moving the bed has made all the difference in the world --  so much cozier this way.  I can't believe it's taken us so long to do this.  I just want to hang out in there more than I used to, and can't wait to figure out the lighting situation - the one unanswered question in all this. 

The funny smell I mentioned, in case you're wondering, was the smell of the vacuum, a smell to which I've become unaccustomed in the year we've had twice-monthly professional housekeeping.  I can't recommend this more highly, especially if you're a working person who spends 40+ hours a week outside of your home.  Oh how precious are the hours of life and pleasure I've regained, hours I used to spend mopping, scrubbing and cleaning.  Hours I can now spend kicking back in my re-arranged, so-much-more-pleasant room, reclining on my bed with Mr Burns, book in hand...

I am so grateful, always, to have married the Magic, to be in lifelong partnership with someone who shares my desire for a beautiful life, someone who constantly surprises me with his additions to our mutual existence.  And I won't lie: someone super-crafty who really and truly makes magic happen.  Looking ahead to when I'll be gone for 2 weeks in Bali in July, I wonder what will be here when I return, what surprises, big or small, the Magic will have in store for me.

All I have to do is be really good, really, really good, and wait.  The Magic will come and do it.  It always does. 

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