Yesterday was a little prelude to the holidays...a gathering of "family" of sorts.
Velinda and I went to our mutual friend, Sylvie's, little apartment across the bayou. We went to help her decorate it with christmas lights. We had lunch at Cafe Degas. We took an impromptu side trip to Home Depot for nails, and spent the rest of the afternoon putting up lights in her little apartment.
Sylvie is French and, well, how do I say?...a bit "manique"Someone said later that night "Oh, she's just French. You know. That's how they are."
Maybe.
But she was pretty "French" when we first started lunch, if you know what I mean. A brisk walk, a double espresso and an empty stomach can do that I guess.
But we love Sylvie. What's not to love?
The more exciting part of the light-hanging, however, was that I
finally got to meet Velinda's new beau.
They have been "courting" (I have to use the archaicism here. It's the only word that works, I think) for a few months now.
They met at church. They've even been talking marriage. They're taking things very methodically and carefully. They're even in a pre-marital sort of counseling.
It's all very proper and old fashioned. They hold hands. They go to church together.
Now, of course, he's about a decade younger than she is, is from rural Mississippi, has a number of tattoos and a mohawk and...well....how do we put it...a bit of a history.
But, hey, who doesn't?
In his heart, however, I think he's straight out of the Chivalrous South.
The most charming part of this 19th century romance is that it's being played out by the two most unlikely actors.
You just don't have any idea.
Any.
I knew a lot about him from what she's told me, and I already approved. I already was an advocate for the boy, even before meeting him, but I have to say he completely charmed me.
We can't put the cart before the horse, but I'm quite excited for her.
Later that night, he, Velinda and I went to dinner at her friend's house, and met up with Velinda's sister. She's easing him into meeting the family. She's already met his family.
She seems nervous, as one can only expect one to be. But I have to hand it to her; she handles this sort of thing, the craziness that comes with a potenital serious relationship, more rationally than just about anyone I know.
I admire that. I don't understand it, but I admire it.