Assortment: May 2008

There I was, the deadline so close I could almost hear it's breathing, and me, writing, writing, writing. And, of course, as it is with me and my writing, time seems to go by unnoticed and I may or may not realize that a mealtime has come and gone with not a crumb having passsed my lips.

Someone else in this house knows this about me, too. So, a tap, tap came on my door, with a delivery of this to my desk.

It may well have been served on fine china with silver flatware wrapped in a napkin of pure linen, for that's what it meant to me. And under that bag of tangy-hot Lime 'n Chili almonds (they're so good, you want to tear open the bag when it's empty and lick the inside, no matter who might be watching), wrapped in gold foil? An Almond Rocca, because he knows I like them, too, just one at a time.

Then, a couple mornings later, I was lingering in the smooth sheets, soft pillows, and warm blankets of bed for just a little longer, when soon, I found this on my lap.

He swore that he had put a square pat of butter on the waffle, but when I saw it, it sure looked like a heart to me!

After this, I didn't need a Mother's Day. Why would I need a Mother's Day when I had just had two? I tried to explain this sense to him last Sunday, but he just grinned and disagreed.

Then he brought me this.

Simple. Delicious. Beautiful.

How I ever got so blessed to have this man's ring on my hand, I'll never know.

And I'm not the only one who notices these "little" things that he does.

Just yesterday, I was sitting in the little green chair at the schoolroom table. On one side of me there was a boy sitting in a little blue chair, working math equations, and on the other side, another boy was sitting in a little red chair, pouring over science. As I was checking over a grammar assignment, another little boy with an apron tied on and a chef's hat atop his head, came bringing me fancy food arranged on platters and trays--the best from his kitchen. There were things to eat, things to drink, and all of it so healthy. Soon our school table showed the bountiful labor of this very busy and very serious, yet twinkly-eyed "chef-er".