 - Last login: 3 hours agoTextuous
- Textuous is a 51 year old guy from Near-N-Yondered, Texas, USA.
- Likes 6 pages • 75 fans • Received 47 reviews
- Member since Mar 30, 2006
Antique Cowboy with tarnished six-shooter, rusty spurs, and swaybacked steed. Garage kept, housebroken, and mannerful. Grammatically textuous, with traces of chivalry and dance-floor etiquette. If you read the blog...the least you can do is say hello and leave a smile or sumthin'.
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MINI MEYER (Volume 4)
Even then, I had a tree house. It was little more than scraps of lumber nailed across two limbs in a huge pine, standing like a solitary sentry in the pasture. The roof was pieced together from crumpled sheets of barn tin, casualties of a sudden spring storm a few years earlier. Remarkably, it was completely dry during a rainstorm, and it was there I discovered Donna one afternoon, early in my fifteenth summer.
She was the little sister of my best friend Marty, who happened to live directly across the county road from me, and who, until that day, was a vague blur in the peripherals of my life. I had taken the pair of old binoculars from the hook just inside the kitchen door, and retreated to my hide-away just as the thunder got really loud. (Back then, there was an overabundance of guardian angels, and the very real possibility of being struck by lightning never once crossed my mind.)
As the first big drops began to fall, a few finding their way unimpeded onto the corrugated roof above me, I noticed motion across the road. Even without the spy glasses, I could see laundry flapping from invisible wires in Marty's side-yard, and a small figure frantically engaged in a losing battle between sheets and gusts of wind.
Up close through the lenses, she had short brown hair, and even at a distance of seventy-five yards, piercing green eyes. And in the three minutes before the heavy stuff moved in, my life changed, and several lifelong preferences were solidified in an adolescent cowboy mind.
It took the better part of two weeks to get up the nerve to talk to her, even though I basically moved in with Marty. I finally kissed her, in the tree house, on the night of July 4th, as we watched the town fireworks show above the distant tree line. She was breathtakingly beautiful, highly creative, imaginative in a down-to-earth way, and smart enough to end up being valedictorian of her graduating class a few years later.
Our romance lasted until the end of August, when she fell for the junior-varsity quarterback. It's hard to complete with a silver and black, 1973 Camaro Z-28 with the Rally Sport and LT Packages.
Donna got a scholarship to Texas A&M, and became a veterinarian. Lightning hit the old pine tree about that time, and even the huge stump has disappeared. And I became a cowboy with a slightly skewed view of the world at large. Most things change...but some don't.
Intelligence, creativity, and imagination still top my list of desirable female qualities.
Short(ish) hair and green eyes are a plus. And tree houses...there's just something about kissing in a tree house.
Meyer
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