I've been time travelling; my God it's 2009!
Oh! did I mention two large and vary dense bricks where broken with my bare right hand yesterday. Knife Hand Strike.
My very first lesson and test of true Focus at Energy Martial Arts.
An exercise that mentally drains, but leaves one in a euphoric state.
Strange.

A year later.

Last June I started this blog. The intent was to help forget the past 6 years of being lost, to move ahead, to banish forever the anguish and remove the blade that had pierced my heart.
Even though flyingbassets and Regeneration (bassets do fly!!!) contain few words with little or no theme, this bog in a very small intangible way was the first step in a series of thousands that lead my walking boots away from the fog that entrapped my soul.
I kept my word. Not much substance here or meaning unless you are me...stonethecrows.

Another anniversary has come and gone as well.

It began over a cup of Cafe Verona.

As April drew to a wintry close; the Old Man gasped his last breath of ice and cold.
Inside a not so quiet Starbucks, he waited. A thousand butterflies roomed his stomach. Maneuvering to the counter he ordered a La Grand coffee, The voice inside stated,
"All's well, boy.Those butterflies are flying in the same direction; only worry when they are all in a tangent and bumping into one another!!"
He met her online just over a week ago. Both agreed to meet live in person this day in the afternoon. Saturday. She could only stay for a short while. A previous commitment to help a friend unpack after a move. She could not be late.
He stood by the counter with one hand deep in his pocket fighting to find lose change he knew was hidden inside. The other holding on to a cup of scolding La Grand Verona. He turned sightly to his right only to look straight into a deep set of brown eyes, a full head of Gypsy hair and a sultry smile that could melt the frozen ice now forming on the streets outside.
"Hi" she said. Continuing to smile.
"You wouldn't be He, by chance would you"
He stopped fumbling for change; holding up the line now forming to the rear.
"Yes. That be Me."
Motioning to the Barista he asked for another La Grand Verona.
Finding their way through the maddening crowd to a table in a quiet corner, the converstaion began.
It never stopped. Words flowed between them, through sips of Verona in a true natural fashion as though they had known each other for a very long time.
The meeting lasted 45 minutes. She was late. Her friend would be worried.
The voice inside began chatting. Again.
"No way, boy. No f ing way. She's too much women. Too much on the ball for ya!!!" And you know it!!!"
"When she's outta here, it's start your engines man. That car of hers will be gone in a flash, never to be heard or seen again!!!"
He started to believe it. Then it happened.
She produced a book, slid it across the table into his hands.
"I've this book. You might like it."
Carol Shields. The Republic of Love.
He knew then and there he would see her again.
He always returned borrowed books.
Off she went to help her friend.
He, to take in his older boys hockey game that night.
Arriving home late that same Saturday evening he found a waiting email; written that same Saturday night.
It was from her.
Stating simple enough;
"Thanks for the coffee. Maybe we can have some fun together."
Love at first sight, he thinks.

After one year, she has become his Best Friend, Constant Companion. Lover and Soul mate.
Soulmates. Laughing are ya. It happens, man.
Soulmates are as real as love itself.