Monday, February 14, 2005


Earlier today, I said to Dave, "Check on me tonight, will you? When you get home, say, 'How's that chapter coming? Did you get it finished?' I need the accountability."

Dave gave me that look, the expression husbands the world over don whenever they find themselves being soft-spoken into a no-win situation. I saw fear in his eyes. I tried to erase it.

"I won't get snappish or crabby or defensive when you ask. I promise."

He stood there thinking, remembering. I have a feeling I've made that promise before. I have a feeling I've broken it. Without commiting to anything, he left the house--quickly, and without looking back.

When he returned awhile ago, he didn't ask. So I offered. "You know, I'm going to need a little grace on that chapter," I began.

He scoffed. Not a bad, mean, hostile scoff. Actually, it was a tad on the timid side; just enough to hint "I told you so," but undefined enough that he might be able to pretend he was only coughing, should I call him on it.

"No--I really do have a good reason," I said.

He looked at me, waiting.

"Well, first off, I was asked to do an edit. Quick turn-around. They needed the article right away . . . as in today."

He didn't blink.

"And I spent the afternoon at the school helping with Tera's party. And after we got home, Zac needed a ride to the Y."


"And . . . and it took me a loooong time to form the meatloaf into a perfect heart shape."

Know what? That one worked. He loves meatloaf, and he's not averse to heart-shaped food, if that food happens to be served on, say, Valentine's Day.

I'll put in an hour or so on that chapter after I'm finished here. Honest. You can check with me later, if you feel brave.

For now, I feel like blogging. I'm just too full not to. I've had a perfect day, and it has to come out somehow. So here goes:

--I awoke to snow on my car. Not much, but enough that the air smelled winterish and wonderful.
--My husband took me to lunch; at the conclusion, I had the most perfect puff-pastry swan filled with light-as-air cream.
--Clouds rolled in.
--Clouds rolled back out.
--I heard from an old friend.
--I heard from some new friends.
--I found what I was looking for at the library.
--My meatloaf came out perfectly; the potatoes had just enough cream cheese and butter; the peas tasted like I'd just released them from their pods.
--Zac's working on his third plateful and making appreciative, gluttonous noises, Larry's laid out like a bear skin rug near the wood stove, Tera's doing homework on the hearth, and Dave's sitting next to me on the couch, not holding me accountable.
--There's just enough breeze that every so often, the wind chimes on the porch tinkle.
--I'm loved.

I hope you know you're loved, too, tonight. I hope your day was wonderful, and you spent time with someone you care about.

Happy Valentine's Day

A program note: tomorrow I'm having a biopsy (nothing I'm too worried about.) If you should come to this site and see ANY posting of ANY kind, please do not read. I've never had Valium before and I'm concerned that it may cause me to write something incriminating and/or embarrassing. Your cooperation is appreciated.

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4 Comment:

At 2/15/2005 1:44 AM, Blogger Ken had this to say ...

Okay, I promise not to read any blogs posted today. I do, however, plan to think about you and pray that all goes well with your appointment today.

I hope that you know that you are loved, as well.

At 2/15/2005 6:30 PM, Anonymous Anonymous had this to say ...

Hey, Ken I think she just said as much.

At 2/15/2005 8:38 PM, Blogger Lori Seaborg had this to say ...

Hope the biopsy went well, Shannon!

At 2/16/2005 1:25 AM, Anonymous Kim had this to say ...

Glad you had such a sweet Valentine's Day! I just love reading your posts. They inspire me to be a better wife & mother. :)


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