Life is full of surprises. Some you don’t want, like a funnel web in a shoe, while others are completely unexpected but more than welcome, even if you are then left with figuring out the hows, whys and HOW?s of the serendipitous conundrum now presented to you.
This is how I now feel, after fate knocked at my door via a source that doesn’t really deliver much in the way of anything other than frustration at the inanity of it all: Facebook. Yes, that bane of modern life, which at once draws me in and repels me, finally provided a moment, a gift for which I can be genuinely thankful. Playing matchmaker, from out of the blue my heart set aflutter, eyes unable to be pried from the beauty, and a meeting quickly in the planning. Finally, after a long and oftentimes bumpy road, I think I’ve found The One.
She’s black, possibly orange, I’ve not been able to decide as yet, but I’m sure she’ll be either or both. Of course her nationality is Belgian; I’ve had (and still have) successful partnerships with Belgique dames before, and believe that the spiritual connection is strong with the motherland. As with all the finest leading ladies, she’ll be dressed in sensual, dark accoutrements tailored by Italians, the finest in their game. She will deserve nothing less.
I will travel to her hometown and meet her family, those who gave her life and who will hand her to me. I’ve researched her history, all the way back to 1934. The great grandparents, the passion they’ve instilled in their offspring, passed down over four generations. Old world values, carried into the modern day while never losing sight of what is important, what is desirable, what makes the heart sing. The experience, the feel, the beauty of simplicity, the realness only found in the original, that warrants the artisan’s touch and displays the heart openly and proudly on its sleeve. There will be no plastic surgery, none required, none desired.
Her name is Jaegher. Love at first sight does exist. Consummation beckons.