n the many events of one's day, it is only natural to have some ups and some downs. Such was the case with my husband and I during a recent conversation that just did not end the way I wanted it to. Complicating the state of affairs was a broken foot. Now, I realize that a broken foot is not all that abnormal, but it was essential to how the events of this story transpired. Imagine, if you can, a garden apartment. Isn't that a lovely term; "Garden Apartment". So "Uptown". So "Classy", don't you think? So "Down Home". In truth, at least in my case, the "Garden apartment" is a nice little basement apartment that we dearly love. It's name comes from the fact that we can see the garden through the high windows. So, in our garden apartment, we have lived and loved life.

Being a basement, it is necessary to climb stairs to get to the outside world. Not a problem ~ ~ ~ usually. But, through a mishap with some of those stairs, I, the wifey, came away with a broken ankle. Instantly, my position as a housekeeper and household member was altered and I have to admit that, at least to some degree, I liked the change. Being catered to can be very acceptable. For awhile, in fact, it was quite pleasant. Alas, with every benefit, it seems, there is the alter-ego. mmm. The evil alter- ego. It didn't take long for me to understand that my broken foot had compromised my freedom. In other words, I am stuck ~ ~ ~ in my basement apartment. For several weeks, I wasn't too bothered by my confinement, but as weeks turned into months and I was only able to go out on very rare occasions, usually only when a doctor's appointment was necessary, the basement began to feel like a dungeon. I don't like dungeons; nope, not at all.

Enter, a doctor's appointment. From my point of view, an appointment of any kind simply opens the way for escape from "The Dungeon". My husband, on the other hand, has far too many times when he is out, either running errands or going to work and it keeps him busy beyond belief. The rare opportunity he has to sit down and relax is something he treasures. Such was the situation recently when I had a doctor's appointment. I, of course, thought we would go 'revel in the freedom' by doing something wonderful; maybe, go out to lunch or a bit of shopping or, even, just going for a little ride.

Sadly, you can imagine my disappointment when, after the appointment, we went directly home. We did not pass go; we did not collect $200 and we most definitely did not have a good time. At least, my half of "we" did not enjoy ourselves. And I knew that if I tried to speak, my eyes would leak, my voice would squeak and my nose would be like a bright red beak. Not a pretty sight. Instead of creating the ugly picture that I have just described, I decided to try and put my words on paper; carefully thought out so there could be no misunderstandings or hurt feelings. This following poem was the result:

In My Lonely Dungeon I ruined your day off I'm sorry, but it's true. I can't believe the things we say, I can't believe all that we do. I know you've many things to work on, I truly understand. But don't you see how much it hurts To be caught in this jam? My broken foot still hurts me. I'm trying hard to walk, I'm living in this dungeon And you don't even talk.

So forgive me if I want fresh air, It's lonely in this hole, I just can't seem to stand it, I feel just like a mole. So, please, enjoy your time off, I' 11 try not to bother you, But I'm not happy being here All alone ~ ~ - with you. By: Joany Wednesday January 25, 2006 6:00 PM

Interestingly, when I first wrote that poem, it sounded like the perfect apology. It's funny how, after a short nap and some time to think things over, the whole perspective changes. When I woke up, I was prepared for a return apology so that life could get back to normal. It didn't happen. In fact, I was instead greeted with a rather tart reply to what I had written. By the way, I am very much a night owl and my husband completely enjoys his days. So, this is what my good husband wrote back to me:

You're for the nights,
I'm for the days.
If this causes fights,
Let's go our own ways.

I was stunned! Of course, I hurried to re-read my own words of regret and sincere apology. Instead, I realized how hurtful my words had been and I was moved to tears. The only remedy was for me to make yet another effort to set things straight. Being a writer does have it's advantages ~ ~ ~ or disadvantages, depending on how you look at it. haha. So, I sat right down and composed another letter. This time, 1 took great care to weigh each word's effect before allowing it to live on the page. Whaddya' think; it was a good effort? Read the following letter before I tell you more:

" Well, Lyle, that came out sounding all mad and like I don't like being with you, didn't it? I 'm sorry: that's not at all what I meant. What I meant to say was that I just get so lonely and the reason I look forward to getting out is because I feel so cooped up. I do like being with you and, sometimes, we have some great conversations, as you well know on both counts. I've tried to explain this to you and I've also tried to not bother you. I know you are doing a lot of different things and I can appreciate that. And you know that I try to help out.

My mistake has been that I want you to understand my point of view. I think that you don't realize that I do understand your point of view. I'm really sorry for every misunderstanding. It was not my intention to make you mad or cause you any kind of hurt feelings. I was only trying to say that I hate feeling so locked-in, without any hope of changing things: no control of my own over my own situation. I'll try harder to not bother you. I was trying to write a poem that would smooth things over and I did it all wrong. But while I was writing, I was remembering and it made me cry. Then, I was really trying to keep you from knowing that I was crying. I think it didn't work.

I know you have a lot to do. Also, I don't mean to cry: I can't help it, though. I really do not mean to ruin your day off~ ~ ~ or any other day, for that matter. I only went to bed so you could get some of your stuff done without having to worry about me. Since I couldn't keep from crying, I thought it was the best way to help. You are my best friend and I love you very much. All I know to say is, "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. I love you. "

With hopes of making things right, I lay the letter next to the poem I had written earlier ~ ~ ~ at about 9:30 PM

If you think this letter helped, you are absolutely right. My good husband was quick to forgive and let bygones be bygones. In days following this incident, he made special effort to take me out more often; something that endeared him to me even more than before.

Because we both enjoy writing, we have found many opportunities to use our talents together. We often find little ways to smooth things over with the thing we know best: writing. It certainly keeps life interesting.

I hope you've enjoyed this little visit. You may have guessed that there will be a good level of variety in "Just Joany's". I'm looking forward to sharing the interesting moments of life with you through letters, puzzles and poems. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.