Skip to main content

Love is in the air...

Words from a Bird.  Day 46

As the husband has been given a week's grace from nursing duties (I quite liked him in that white dress and orthopaedic shoes) and headed off skiing, last night he handed me over to my mum for my continued convalescence.

Saying goodbye was tough, as it is rare for us to be apart for more than our work day dictates.  But it's ok, I still have Percy, replacing one short, grey haired companion for another short, grey haired companion, albeit one with four legs and a wet nose.

Now spending Valentine's Day apart from your significant other is not for the fainthearted.  I watched my mum and her younger half exchange beautifully crafted words of love and gifts this morning.  A lot of effort had gone into making the other feel special, especially from the younger half who was battling the hangover from hell this morning. 

As I have been housebound since Tea Towel Night, there's been no opportunity for me to buy the husband either card or gift.  This wasn't going to be a problem though, as I have a large box of random cards which I can dig into on occasions such as these.  Rifling through them, it was difficult to decide which was more suited for a declaration of love.  Here are the choices I had:

1. Happy 70th Birthday! 
Bit premature, although by the end of the week's skiing he'll probably feel that age.
2. Well Done Smartie Pants!
It goes without saying that when he met me, he won the lottery, but no one likes a bighead.
3. I Hear You're under the Weather?
Probably will be relevant tomorrow morning after a night's debauchery with the ankle biters.
4. You Passed!
Again, relevant around midnight tonight, especially if one of the kids could add the word 'Out' to it.
5. On our Wedding Day
This one has obviously been hanging around for at least 9 years as it's not the card you buy for someone other than your husband to be. It resembled me in some ways, slightly curled and faded.

So the Wedding Day card it was.  At least it had love hearts on it which gave it a pictorial nod towards Valentine's Day. And it had romantic if completely occasion-inappropriate words in it.

My ever-thoughtful sister brought me some chocolate hearts to put with the card, and the whole lot was given to son number 2 to remember to give to daughter number 1 who in turn would remember to give them to the husband today.  The middle pass between son number 2 and daughter number was necessary, as chocolate does not stay in the packet long where he is concerned. 

So as they settled down on their flight this Valentine's morning, I am picturing the husband opening his card and chocolates at 30,000 feet, wallowing in the obvious, if not slightly peculiar, love which I have for him.

Unfortunately, because of his extra curricular nursing duties this week, the husband had not been so well prepared or assisted.  He texted my card over this morning, in three separate photo messages.  I can see that it is red and there is a teddy on it, but apart from that I can't make out much else as it's so small.  Maybe he had found an old Christmas card in the box, who knows?

But it's the thought that accounts, as the old saying goes. 

And I know I am in his, wherever he might be....


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Say goodbye...

Here's a question for you.  Why is it that when we are dieting, we say that we have 'lost weight'.  To me this implies that at some time in the not so distant future, we're going to find it again.  I like to imagine a 28lb blob of yellow fat in a three piece suit, winking lasciviously at me and saying, 'Oi skinny.  I've missed you.  Fancy letting me ride shotgun around those hips again?'
So instead of 'losing weight' I am getting rid of it.  Throwing it away.  Killing it.   Banishing it, never to be seen again.  Previous experience tells me that I will probably have old Blobby hanging back around my middle in a couple of years, once I've tired of leaves and crispbreads, but I am trying to do things slightly different this time.  Slowing down the stampeding rate I eat (I blame hurried school lunches for this), speeding up the walking, and being more aware of what I am doing and why I am doing it.
Someone once told me that if I ever felt like pickin…

Cold wind blows...

I don't know how cold it is with you at the moment, but I spent yesterday morning snapping the two furballs off various trees and posts as we attempted a walk before I went to work.  I had made the schoolgirl error of asking myself, 'Just how cold can it be?' before putting one extra sweater on beneath my walking coat.  I also had my Olga from the Volga fur hat, a scarf and gloves (to be fair, I've been wearing all of these since the middle of October).  Unfortunately, what I hadn't taken into consideration was the above the knee dress I was wearing to work yesterday.  I imagined that the extra warmth up top would somehow work its way to my knees.  
I was wrong.
Getting back indoors after forty five minutes of combat with The Beast from the East, I looked down at my legs.  Even with the black 100 denier tights I was wearing, I could see that my legs had taken on a slightly different hue to normal.  They were looking like two red pillar boxes, and it took ten minutes …

A man could go quite mad...

I have started to realise that there are many things about me which drive the husband mad.  When you first get together, those small faults are cute and a little bit quirky.  However, fast forward a couple of decades and they become a fairly acceptable excuse for manslaughter.  
I started thinking about this after the contretemps with the cutlery drawer a couple of weeks ago.  If you remember, the husband informed that that I was messing with his feng shui by putting the boiled egg spoons in with the dessert forks.  He only seemed to notice that I did this after I bought a new cutlery tray for the drawer, so I'm blaming Groupon for grassing me up.
The other thing is my snoring.  When we first met, this was described as 'endearing', and he told me that as he lay next to me at night, he used to smile to himself and listen to me.  This swiftly moved on to comparisons with a nasally challenged warthog, and more recently to a Boeing 747 with a noisy exhaust.  I'm considerate …