What can I say, this is my man. Somehow, after years of hooking up with selfish, immature, moochie boys dressed sort of as men, I was given the wisdom to see what a gem this one was. I knew the minute Martyn knocked on my door 4 years ago that he was a kind soul, and that we would be friends. I quietly knew more at that instant too, but didn't share it with anyone, not even myself, and experience has shown me that when one has a knowledge they don't shout to the word, it is usually a solid knowledge based on real inner understanding.
Our story is worth repeating, only in that sometimes I forget how nice a story it is. I moved to Portland in 2002 from Minnesota; I grew up there, had lived many places, but after 15 years in Minneapolis, decided I needed a big change of terrain and lifestyle. I looked for two years at small country towns in Minnesota and Wisconsin, California and finally visited my brother and his wife in Portland, and the minute I got off the plane, I just knew. Less than year later, I packed up the car with two dogs and a chinchilla an headed west. I've never looked back.
I had found a sweet little tiny cottage in a nice neighborhood, and as the moving van was unloading a man knocked on my open door. I can still remember exactly how his voice sounded as he stuck his hand out and said, "Hi, I'm Martyn Dunn and I had to meet the new neighbor with the same last name as me." Yes people, we had the same last name, and in Minnesota there are not a lot of Dunns. it seems in Oregon there are quite a few. Upon meeting, I learned he was a landscaper and we shared a passion for gardening and growing anything from the start. He lived right next door in a postage stamp size cottage which was the cutest little gem in the woods you've ever seen. It had a lot of charm, he'd done a lot of work on it, but perhaps what I remember most from the first visit is he had his living room full of tools for his business. We became friends, were the same age, had both been single quite awhile and were not daters. When he told me he was an avid fisherman, my little mind became engaged even more, as I had always wanted to try it, and had vowed too ever since I saw it in Colorado. He had drawers full of feathers and things for flying ties, and soon he taught me how to fish. I got to see parts of Oregon noone else had even heard of because of those fishing days. On one very hot day, over 90 degrees, I could hear a lot of rustling going on his side of the fence, and could see trees shaking. About 30 minutes later, he showed up at my door with a bowl of freshly picked cherries which he had gathered by climbing up his own cherry tree. It was at that exact moment I let myself in on the secret I knew on the day I met him - I would marry him.
So, after we were sure we weren't related, we were married in our own gardens that we had created. We continued to live in our two houses, and eventually had to move. So we took the plunge and went for our dream - a farm where he could build a little nursery and I could have animals and raise lavender and stuff. When we would go fishing we'd always see places with riverfront property and I'd tell him we would buy some riverfront so he could get up and fish on his own river, and I'd make him pies of berries, his favorite. And here we are.
Pictures are good at making one slow down a little and remembering all that's happened, and all the little surprises that led up to taking that picture. So if you have a dream, let it grow on it's own but set it free too.
