I can fix a car and make a souffle. I know how to paint a picture and paint the town. I'm more interesting than my clothes and my car. I hate to write, but I'm good at it. I'm a horticulturist and I love plants. I have four wonderful children and five beautiful grand-children. I play fair. I've hiked Mt. Whitney and the John Muir Trail. I'm cute and funny and crazy and nice. But, I'm not always nice. I'm spicy. Sometimes I don't answer the phone. I like long walks on the beach and I have lived on some of the best of them. I'm secretly afraid of teenagers (ssshhh, don't tell anyone). I like to savor the taste. Reminisce about its' fragrance. And feel. I can hear, but sometimes I don't listen. I'm honest. I sport significant scars from significant events. I am an optimist. I'm German. I've learned my lesson...a few times. I have wonderful kids, grand kids and friends. I crave chocolate and intimacy. I hate to argue. I've goosed a stranger. I miss my grandmother.
My mate is alive and aware. He stands tall. He is proud, but not arrogant. He is wise. He works hard and his hands are strong. He is mature, but not old. My mate has walked the trail and achieved the goal. He's a hero. My mate has flaws and can see them...all. He has weaknesses to overcome. His stride is steady. My mate has a past and a future. He has been married. He might have children and they might have children. My mate was probably a boy scout. His mother is proud of him. He likes to smile. He likes to make others smile. He takes big bites out of life and savors every morsel. He exchanges values...equally. He read my profile a dozen times. And then he read it again.