You know… I was planning on doing a whole ‘back-into the blogosphere’ post waxing poetic about all things gushy and love related to go with this Valentine’s day set up… I PROMISE I was. Poetry in motion kinda thing. Tug yer heart strings… blah blah bah.. Mainly because it has been a RIDICULOUSLY long time since I last posted (Didn’t I warn you that I was a delinquent blogger?). But then, LIFE happened… the kind of life Like, EAT.SLEEP.BREATHE and wonder ‘where THE HECK every stinking hour of EVERY stinking day went’ kind of life happened. Hockey? Yep. Shells? Yep. Crappy weather, awesome weather and back to crappy weather? Yepper. Oh and Family. Oh, and friends who I feel like I haven’t seen in oh… like FOR FREAKING EVER. And, a babysitter with a new (read: REAL) job that makes it difficult to get out for date night. Urgh. But you know what? It’s just the way. LIFE. And sometimes life GETS in the way. Then sometimes the way to love life is to live life. Am I getting a little out there for ya yet? I know, even I am getting confused. So let’s move on.
You may be wondering what the HECK is going down here at Witzend. But I’ll tell ya… I bought myself Valentine’s flowers. Yep. And Double Yep… guess what… they were only $29…All of ‘em. And before you question my Old Man’s chops just know that I did it ‘Cause my husband is one lucky dude’. Not just lucky because I save him a truckload of duckets on flowers or, because I schlep my own arse to the flower shop but, because heck, let’s be real… He’ s married to me. And I love buying my own flowers – a whole LOTTA flowers. And because He loves me… and I
put upwith love him to pieces, and he works a crap load. SO, in order to make sure he pitches up with flowers I buy them myself. And that makes him extra lucky.
Actually, I may have told you before. My husband and I don’t actually celebrate Valentine’s day. It’s not because of the true origin of the holiday (although that would be grounds enough). It’s not because of the crappy Hallmark Cards or overpriced roses that don’t smell like anything or the cheesy gifts like the pajamagram thing (‘cause he knows that if that box ever shows up on our doorstep – that’s it. He can pack his bag and Peace-out yo). It is because a mere 2 days later is a much more important day for us. It is our Engage-a-versary! Bring on the schmoopsie-poo love fest here kiddos. This is our day! That’s the day that my husband (as he says) “put this whole operation in motion”. It’s the day that he asked me (in the nicest way he could) “Can you please Shut the ‘EFF’ up so I can ask you to Marry me?” Yep… that’s actually how it went down. No bended knee, He didn’t have a ring. OH… and he hadn’t yet asked my father for his blessing. It may have been the few drinks deep we were, or the warm Bermuda air. Or the fact that we were sitting on the Waterloo House Patio post dinner and in complete shock of the newly learned news our precious place was going to be torn down. Whatever it was, it apparently was the moment that he suddenly realized that he couldn’t live without me. It was perfectly imperfect and perfectly us. And I said Yes, because I realized I couldn’t or didn’t ever want to ever live without him. And the rest is history. But wait…
… ‘Did she say yet why ALL of the flowers?’ … ‘If she doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s day then why would she go to such trouble?’ … let me let you in on a little secret. Just because I am not the biggest fan of VD (you know what I mean… get your mind out of the gutter) does that mean that there needs to be a lack of all things PANK and gushy? Nope. Sure, you can think “I mean, really? Who entertains for Valentine’s Day like THIS?” Go ahead. I’ll tell ya who… it’s ME.
Here’s another little secret…there will be no additional guests seated at this table. This table is set for my boys. Yes… a truckload of flowers IS apropos for ‘lil gents in training. Why? Because (aside from the fact that I lurv those littles so much I could squeeze ‘em ’til they pee their pants) they need to KNOW that they are loved. And they need to know that flowers (and china, and the company you keep, and maybe wine) are the best way(s) to make a simple farm house table a beautiful place to convene and share love. And that THIS is just one of the many ways that their mom shares a part of her heart. That the part of my heart that is reserved for setting beautiful tables for my dudes is a big part of who I am (and a lot of what you see in my squares). They should know that they should trim stems every day and replace water, and that THIS advice will come in handy when they finally meet the person whom they want to give their whole heart to… because fresh flowers, knowledge and “knowing things” about that knowledge makes a true gentleman… and mark my words, they may beat the crap out of each other on a daily basis, but these dudes WILL be true gentlemen (or else).
I love that they are never surprised to walk through the door to the sight of armloads of flowers on the counter ready for a barrage of vases. I love that they help pick the vases. I love that they help keep tabs on who is dying and who is thriving. I love that they know that when things start to wilt that it’s time for help. And, just so you know, it is not lost on me that this is completely euphemistic for so many other things in life. The boys learn flower names. They are starting to learn how to pull together a bouquet. They are learning life lessons every second of every day. And if it is done through flowers, or homemade food, or a big huge hug when your teacher sends a nasty gram saying you aren’t behaving (ahem… yes … current sitch) then they can come home and know that they will be welcomed with open arms and a sea of beauty to remind them that they are loved. So all in all, Shit. I guess this did kinda turn out to be a smoochy love-fest after all. Funny how that works. I hope that you fill your home with flowers, with love and, with life lessons my dears. Happy Valentine’s week and I hope you go out there and hug someone so hard they pee their pants.