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She drives with the steely aggression and stone cold calm of a Mario Andretti. She gets misty when she points to the antique rocking chair in which she breast fed her children. She decorates her home with sea shells and glass, aqua hues and tenderness. She yank starts a lawnmower and uses power tools and heavy equipment like a construction worker.
She dresses like a hard rocker, like an elegant business executive, like a hillside hiker - cool and comfortable. She shows me how to make love with the amazement each time of the first time and the relaxed unhurriedness of knowing it's never the last time. She plays like a finely tuned instrument with no margin for error or assumption. She takes me beyond merely giving and receiving pleasure: she shows me how to really share pleasure. When I'm naked, and she, fully clothed, holds me, it's an expression of her sheer full hearted generosity lit by the moon rippling shadows through bamboo blinds for nights that never end. She serves fresh strawberries and dipping sugar for breakfast. Each of her days start like a new page, like a clean slate, like a fresh mound of cut hay.