Archive for February, 2012
Tim is one smart cookie.
Let me tell you why.
Today is pink-paper-heart day. The holiday of love. The most romantic day of the year.
Today, sweethearts everywhere snuggle into tiny booths in crowded restaurants, yelling a conversation over the din.
Today, women everywhere sport beautiful new diamond jewelry and munch on delectable dark chocolates.
Today, card aisles everywhere gape big, toothless, sold-out grins at desparate last minute shoppers.
Today, counters everywhere sprout beautiful spring gardens and florists everywhere collapse in utter exhaustion promptly at 9.
Except at our house. At our house, the day has come and gone. Leftovers from Tim’s favorite supper are long since cooling in the refrigerator. Rooms are quiet, curtains drawn, doors locked. All is safely gathered in—except the hard-working, tired, supperless man of the house himself, whose day’s work is unexpectedly extending far past its normal bounds.
But Tim’s no dummy, and he prepared even for such an unexpected and unheard of catastrophe as missing pink-paper-heart day.
He didn’t wait until today to say I Love You. He made sure his sweetheart knew it yesterday. And the day before yesterday, too, for good measure. And the day before that and the day before that and the day before that and the day before that…and even the day before that.
What a smart man he is.
I’m so thankful he’s my valentine.
I’m wearing pink today and cleaning up a frenzy–because it’s spring and I’m happy.
I don’t care who says differently–the calendar, the groundhog–it’s spring and I know it.
My hyacinths are blooming.
It hit 70 degrees yesterday.
We had dandelion greens on our burgers for supper last Saturday.
I’m wearing pink.
So sorry, calendar. So sorry, groundhog. You got it wrong this time.
If you need me, I’ll be upstairs vacuuming the baseboard.
Once upon a time just before Christmas, a busy boy and his not-so-busy wife took a nice, quiet trip to the beach.
They needed some down time.
They rented a little cabin in the woods for an off-season rate and walked every day.
How still and quiet in winter, this busy summer park!
They ate in every morning and out every night.
They tried a different restaurant every time, but if they had to do it again, they’d go straight to Bubba’s, order the Rockfish, and never leave.
As they walked, they talked. And talked and talked and talked.
It was a happy trip.
A safe trip.
A quiet trip.
A windy, cold trip.
A tell-your-friends-and-do-again trip.
And a happily ever after trip.
You should try it some time.