A tip for all of you newly married (and maybe old-married) people out there: find out what your significant other’s favorite flower is and bring it home every once in a while. Just because.
I had a lovely date with my wife tonight. We went Christmas shopping. That has nothing to do with the photo. I’m just happy and felt like sharing.
I hope you like the photo.
This is a little reminder from me to…me. It’s been a while since I senselessly bought flowers. By senselessly, I mean the part of my brain that is not part of the brain – the irrational part of the brain, is what I’m trying to say.
Yes, there are reasons why I love my wife. Yes, there are occasions to buy flowers. Yes, there are aesthetic reasons to purchase these aromatic and visually stimulating florae. But it’s time to do it for no reason whatever.
Because isn’t that what love is? A momentary stupidity in the face of all things logical that creates a blankness in the brain and a smile on the face? Well, it’s time to get stupid for love again.
Of course, me, the person for whom I might be gettin’ all stupid might read this, so maybe not tomorrow, or the next day, but soon. Soon.
I said, “Uh…I could if you like.”
“Well, you don’t have to, but they’re so pretty.”
So here’s a photo of the leaves from the day lilies with pretty water droplets from the soaker hose. Oh, and if you’re interested, the day lilies are in yesterday’s post. They’re pretty as well.
While photographing this suspension bridge, this couple came up and paused, nicely, and waited for me to take a photo. I informed them that they were never going to walk across this bridge if they were going to wait until I was done shooting this bridge. I also, in passing, that they could walk on as long as they were okay with being on my photoblog.
They were so cute. They were holding hands and being all googly over each other and making me a little jealous. My wife and I have been married for seventeen years. We have a ten year old daughter, who was accompanied on this trip by a friend from school, and a seven year old son. Marriage and kids are great. I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. But this couple, walking by themselves, holding hands and canoodling whenever they wanted, made me remember a time when I could grab my wife’s hand and not be joined on the other side by a sticky, melted ice cream covered hand.
When I was young, I wanted to learn to play guitar. I wanted to be the guy who the guys wanted to be and the girls wanted to be with. I, however, learned to play the trombone. Yup, the trombone. The guy who can make comical sounds by moving the slide up and down. The guy who, regularly throughout a concert, has to exercise the spit valve because the bottom of a trombone slide fills up with residual saliva while the player plays. Ooh, that sounds sexy. Probably my favorite part of playing a trombone was the ring around the lips that’s formed by slightly improper embouchure. My lips looked like a small donut when I was finished a concert.
I’m pretty sure that all the guys in the audience wanted to be me. And the girls, well, I married a trombone player. It turns out they make really good kissers. Haha, take that super-awesome guitar man. How good are your lips?