It started out nicely. I had a couple of hours off on Friday to relax a little, and then I headed up to Eric’s.

Yes, Eric is still around, and he’s the reason why I’m not writing bad date stories lately (because there’s nothing bad to write, which is a nice switch.)

I’d hoped to get to ride along with him on Saturday, but the mill was closed, so he had the day off. I’d like to see how this whole logging thing works up close and maybe take some pictures (the new camera came on Friday) but another time will do. I’m not sure that he’s comfortable having his picture on the internet just yet, but here’s his ride:

Instead, we went up the hill to clean out his family’s hunting cabin, which his dad has recently sold. Which, of course, meant that I got to meet his dad and step-mom.

I’ve had my share of meeting the parents, and it definitely gets easier as I get older. Both of these people were very easy to get along with, and of course, I’ve already met their great galumphing dog (who’s calmed down quite a bit.) Eric’s stepmother strikes me as someone who would hit it off well with my own mom; in fact, they only live across the mountain from each other. I have a feeling that they used the same interior decorator too, but if not, they’d like each other’s choices.

After we’d done all of the sorting and moving and packing, we went back to their house to unload some stuff and to have dinner. I felt right at home already, and would have happily lingered over the table longer than we did if it weren’t for the nagging worry that my dog was out carousing the neighborhood (he wasn’t, turns out.)

They’ve got an incredible view, and as the sun went down and turned the sky purple, we went from watching the hummingbirds duke it out over the feeder to watching the bats put on an air show catching their breakfasts.

Eric gave me the nickel tour of their house, and each stop was more impressive than the last. They have a fantastic kitchen since they both cook. A master bathroom I could lose myself in. A comfortable and beautiful house, but then Eric took me outside to what I’d assumed was a guest house, and it is, sort of. But there’s a loft in it, and it’s filled with bookshelves. And what he showed me on those shelves was like walking into my childhood. It was filled with my favorite books, some of which are pretty obscure. And he didn’t show it to me just as one more stop on the tour either; I think he was saving the best for last and bringing me to his treasure. I bet we spent an hour up there looking over the titles and finding out which were each other’s favorites.

I told him it was like walking into a room filled with old friends, and he got a funny look in his eye. I don’t gather that it’s a side that he shows very many women; I know it’s not the first thing I bring up with men. If they hear of my book habit, they either brush it off, not understanding, or they picture having to help me move and their backs start to hurt. I don’t exactly date men that are typically really into reading, but to find that one I’d already liked had this addiction too, well, that was a huge bonus.

The more I get to know this man, the more I like him. We haven’t had a lot of face time, I know, but that’s working out OK. I feel like I’ve spent the last couple of years either looking back over my shoulder or wandering aimlessly, and now I’m going forward. Slowly, to be sure, but there’s nothing wrong with putting on foot in front of the other but only after we’ve checked to make sure we’re not stepping into a hole or a cowpie.