Some years ago – early in our courtship – my wife had a cat. As cats do, it would routinely bring in badly injured animals that were aided in their 'journey into the next life'. One day, sick of the bloodshed, I told Jennifer that she had to take responsibility for the cat's callous actions, and thus the burden to put the sick and injured out of their misery fell upon her shoulders, and that she had to deal with the havoc that he wrought upon the local fauna.
Picture it, early summer, a warm, humid evening. A storm was brewing. Out of the gradually escalating darkness in comes the cat with a distressed baby bird, frail, featherless, bleeding, yet chirping loudly. If you are familiar with the habits of birds, once out of the nest (and especially if handled by humans), it would be doomed to starvation as the parents would most certainly reject it.
Now, she begged me to do the deed, but – having made my position clear – denied her such an easy option. Thus, in the haughtiest manner I could manage (which is pretty bloody haughty), I informed Jennifer that it was her duty as a decent human being to "take care of business" and sent her on her way. I suggested that drowning would be an adequate method and pointed her in the direction of the laundry (which was located outside in the backyard).
In the mean time, it had finally darkened, and the rain started to pelt down. Three or so minutes later, in comes poor old Jennifer, dripping wet, with large welding gloves on (also wet), cradling the still chirping bird, tears streaming down her face, telling me that she just couldn't do it. Indeed, upon venturing, I discovered that she had even prepared warm water to dispatch the bird (lest it get cold).
Disappointed, but knowing the hand that fate had dealt me, I – silently – took the wretched creature off of her and went outside to finish the deed. Shunning the laundry, I opted for blunt force. It was mercifully quick, and without doubt painless for the poor beastie.
That evening I think that - for good or bad - we learned a little more about each other.
I asked Sarge what he thought was the most romantic thing he'd ever done for me, to which he promptly replied "held down a job all these years!"
Hahaha
Actually, he's very romantic. So my pick for most romantic was the trip we took together to Paris--he's fluent in French, and squired me round in the most courtly way, ordering my dinners, showing me the sights, and finally, most wonderfully, found my favorite parfumerie on a side street in the Ile de la Cite, and spent the better part of an hour patiently helping me choose a scent and then buying it for me and carrying it around in its little pink bag until we got back to the hotel. Ah, romance.
Second to this was the wonderful way he helped me through the birth of Hedgehog.
megan, i bet something romantic has happened to you. it doesn't have to be man/woman..... i bet the offspring has done some unbearably sweet things for you?
A handful of flowers gleaned from our garden, a business card with a scrawled message celebrating 10 years and looking forward to the next ten, all left on the dresser as he departed for work in the wee hours long before I awoke. . .
Coming up on 25 this August, I look forward to a hand-picked bouquet and a post-it "heart" by my bedside when I wake up (he will have already walked to the guesthouse next door where his office resides). I savor the simple.
Romance is a million little things strung together in a day, a week, a year, a lifetime of LOVE. No pearl necklace or diamond tiara could rival that! : D
you are so right debbie, small gestures do really count. i guess it's those small every day things that mean you still gleefully anticipate "date night"
I'll have to think about this one. After 27 years time goes by. Yes, the same as HSC. V.C.E. goes for 2 years so this is helen's 1st year. We used to have HSC until the government changed it to vce. Jo.
I loved Kris' story and as someone who has had to end a life, I appreciate it. I'm so grateful I'm not alone. You know me Kylie, it would hurt more to know I have to do this crap alone.
Romance. Like dear Debbie I'm SO simple. It isn't a diamond or anything like that, it's a word, a deed, a kiss, a hug. It's when I konk out on the sofa from pure exhaustion and he gently covers me with a fleece blanket. It's saying "thanks" for the smallest deed. It's simple and honest. It isn't puffed up with pretense.
My friend "K" was going to a conference across the state for a couple of days. After she left to make the 2-3 hour drive to get there, I called the hotel she was staying at and arranged to have a bouquet of flowers waiting for her in her room. The card simply said, "Miss you already... just bob."
I have to disagree that romance is the million little things along the way--for me, that's love, not romance. I still think it's the grander gestures, the ones that are big and wide and put the giver at a possible disadvantage in terms of making them vulnerable--
hi leah, i lamented recently that i will agree with pretty much any well constructed argument, which is a scary thought and here i am about to do an about face!
when debbie said she looks forward to the same handpicked bouquet at 25 years as at 10 i thought that it was romantic the first time but the second time i would like something different. not neccessarily a grand gesture but a thoughtful one.
i had a quick look at definitions of romance and of course it can be used many ways but the word which came up and the idea which you refer to, is heroic
and guess what? i just looked at my exact wording to debbie "small gestures count".theres no mention of romance
yay! i'm not doing a flip after all!
and this is exactly the kind of discussion i hoped for when i posted asking for your thoughts!
Kylie, yes, heroic is exactly the word I was searching for...in its true sense...I'm glad you weren't put off by my comment, I wasn't trying to be argumentative, but rather put forth an argument, which of course makes all the difference, right?
And I don't see you as towing the line on a well-argued point--you've definitely got your own perspective, which is one of the many reasons I love your blog!
hey leah i never thought you were being argumentative and even if i did i would want to argue! i think i just love to engage in something; argument, discussion, makes no difference :)
saw your clothes post, i may need to post on that after the romance stuff. it's funny, i have thought of talking about clothes and wondered if it was all too frou-frou (and that coming from the queen of inconsequential posts!)
Ooooh, fun, questions!
ReplyDeleteI'll be back.
xo
Some years ago – early in our courtship – my wife had a cat. As cats do, it would routinely bring in badly injured animals that were aided in their 'journey into the next life'. One day, sick of the bloodshed, I told Jennifer that she had to take responsibility for the cat's callous actions, and thus the burden to put the sick and injured out of their misery fell upon her shoulders, and that she had to deal with the havoc that he wrought upon the local fauna.
ReplyDeletePicture it, early summer, a warm, humid evening. A storm was brewing. Out of the gradually escalating darkness in comes the cat with a distressed baby bird, frail, featherless, bleeding, yet chirping loudly. If you are familiar with the habits of birds, once out of the nest (and especially if handled by humans), it would be doomed to starvation as the parents would most certainly reject it.
Now, she begged me to do the deed, but – having made my position clear – denied her such an easy option. Thus, in the haughtiest manner I could manage (which is pretty bloody haughty), I informed Jennifer that it was her duty as a decent human being to "take care of business" and sent her on her way. I suggested that drowning would be an adequate method and pointed her in the direction of the laundry (which was located outside in the backyard).
In the mean time, it had finally darkened, and the rain started to pelt down. Three or so minutes later, in comes poor old Jennifer, dripping wet, with large welding gloves on (also wet), cradling the still chirping bird, tears streaming down her face, telling me that she just couldn't do it. Indeed, upon venturing, I discovered that she had even prepared warm water to dispatch the bird (lest it get cold).
Disappointed, but knowing the hand that fate had dealt me, I – silently – took the wretched creature off of her and went outside to finish the deed. Shunning the laundry, I opted for blunt force. It was mercifully quick, and without doubt painless for the poor beastie.
That evening I think that - for good or bad - we learned a little more about each other.
This is a lovely topic but I have nothing to add to it. I wish I did.
ReplyDeleteI asked Sarge what he thought was the most romantic thing he'd ever done for me, to which he promptly replied "held down a job all these years!"
ReplyDeleteHahaha
Actually, he's very romantic. So my pick for most romantic was the trip we took together to Paris--he's fluent in French, and squired me round in the most courtly way, ordering my dinners, showing me the sights, and finally, most wonderfully, found my favorite parfumerie on a side street in the Ile de la Cite, and spent the better part of an hour patiently helping me choose a scent and then buying it for me and carrying it around in its little pink bag until we got back to the hotel. Ah, romance.
Second to this was the wonderful way he helped me through the birth of Hedgehog.
So, Kylie, how 'bout you?
leah! you got me :)
ReplyDeletei ask the questions but dont answer them
i might need to think
kris,
ReplyDeleteit's a gruesome story but undoubtedly romantic.
do you still have a cat?
k
megan,
ReplyDeletei bet something romantic has happened to you. it doesn't have to be man/woman.....
i bet the offspring has done some unbearably sweet things for you?
love
k
A handful of flowers gleaned from our garden, a business card with a scrawled message celebrating 10 years and looking forward to the next ten, all left on the dresser as he departed for work in the wee hours long before I awoke. . .
ReplyDeleteComing up on 25 this August, I look forward to a hand-picked bouquet and a post-it "heart" by my bedside when I wake up (he will have already walked to the guesthouse next door where his office resides). I savor the simple.
Romance is a million little things strung together in a day, a week, a year, a lifetime of LOVE. No pearl necklace or diamond tiara could rival that! : D
you are so right debbie,
ReplyDeletesmall gestures do really count. i guess it's those small every day things that mean you still gleefully anticipate "date night"
Kylie, the cat was dispatched to a relative's care when it was discovered to be responsible for a spot of eczema on poor old Jen.
ReplyDeleteWe now have no pets, other than two very large children. And no eczema either.
I'll have to think about this one. After 27 years time goes by. Yes, the same as HSC. V.C.E. goes for 2 years so this is helen's 1st year. We used to have HSC until the government changed it to vce.
ReplyDeleteJo.
kris,
ReplyDeletehenry and ezra are very large only in comparison to cats!
I loved Kris' story and as someone who has had to end a life, I appreciate it. I'm so grateful I'm not alone. You know me Kylie, it would hurt more to know I have to do this crap alone.
ReplyDeleteRomance. Like dear Debbie I'm SO simple. It isn't a diamond or anything like that, it's a word, a deed, a kiss, a hug. It's when I konk out on the sofa from pure exhaustion and he gently covers me with a fleece blanket. It's saying "thanks" for the smallest deed. It's simple and honest. It isn't puffed up with pretense.
My friend "K" was going to a conference across the state for a couple of days. After she left to make the 2-3 hour drive to get there, I called the hotel she was staying at and arranged to have a bouquet of flowers waiting for her in her room. The card simply said, "Miss you already... just bob."
ReplyDeletebob,
ReplyDeletethats the stuff dreams are made of. too sweet. unbearable.
love ya
k
thats the stuff dreams are made of. too sweet. unbearable.
ReplyDeleteFat lot of good it did me.
I have to disagree that romance is the million little things along the way--for me, that's love, not romance. I still think it's the grander gestures, the ones that are big and wide and put the giver at a possible disadvantage in terms of making them vulnerable--
ReplyDeleteLike what Bob did!
ReplyDeletehi leah,
ReplyDeletei lamented recently that i will agree with pretty much any well constructed argument, which is a scary thought and here i am about to do an about face!
when debbie said she looks forward to the same handpicked bouquet at 25 years as at 10 i thought that it was romantic the first time but the second time i would like something different. not neccessarily a grand gesture but a thoughtful one.
i had a quick look at definitions of romance and of course it can be used many ways but the word which came up and the idea which you refer to, is heroic
and guess what? i just looked at my exact wording to debbie "small gestures count".theres no mention of romance
yay! i'm not doing a flip after all!
and this is exactly the kind of discussion i hoped for when i posted asking for your thoughts!
Kylie, yes, heroic is exactly the word I was searching for...in its true sense...I'm glad you weren't put off by my comment, I wasn't trying to be argumentative, but rather put forth an argument, which of course makes all the difference, right?
ReplyDeleteAnd I don't see you as towing the line on a well-argued point--you've definitely got your own perspective, which is one of the many reasons I love your blog!
hey leah
ReplyDeletei never thought you were being argumentative and even if i did i would want to argue!
i think i just love to engage in something; argument, discussion, makes no difference :)
saw your clothes post, i may need to post on that after the romance stuff.
it's funny, i have thought of talking about clothes and wondered if it was all too frou-frou
(and that coming from the queen of inconsequential posts!)
frou-frou is good sometimes; it's relaxing.
ReplyDeleteoh, p.s. If you email me your address, I'll send you over some dish cloths! I sent Megan's out a few days ago, so I'm good to my word!
leah@fosterdog.com