LOST AND FOUND

So I’m pretty sure no one is still waiting with bated breath for my Betsy/Thomas wedding series to begin. At least I hope not, because I want it to be like when you lose...let’s say maybe the charger to your camera. And you search high and low for it (literally), and you accuse a lot of people around you of misplacing it, but finally you give up and start taking pictures with your cell phone. And then one day, you decide to clean up your bedroom and open a bag and find that long-lost charger right where you left it weeks ago. And you’re overjoyed, because you never quite adjusted to using your cell phone for a camera anyway. So I’m hoping you will feel that same kind of joy when you finally sign on to this blog and find that the wedding story has begun, because that which you thought was lost to you forever, will have been found.

And on that note, I have a few lines for you from a little poem about lost stuff which I borrowed from Edmund Spenser (who is a real poet):

"For whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto another brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought."

Isn’t that beautiful? And I’m sure its meaning is very deep, but for me I just think of it when I’m looking for something...like a camera charger.

But I don’t want you to think I’m trying to pacify you and regain your affections with just a bit of high-brow poetry...so let me assure you that Part One of the wedding series is basically written, and will be posted here in the next few days. If all goes well.

Meanwhile, I wanted to tell you about the peacoat Dave gave me last year for Christmas. And again, I don’t like to brag, but for a man, this guy is unbelievably thoughtful when it comes to gift-giving. One time he SNUCK my broken string of pearls out of my dresser drawer and had them re-strung for me. On Mother’s Day a few years back, I stepped outside to find pots and pots of geraniums scattered about my front steps. And for my anniversary this past September, he secretly hauled my Honda scooter which hadn’t started for several years to a mechanic and had it repaired. And that may sound like more of a gift for him rather than for me, because yes, I’m over the weight limit for the scooter anyway. But I’m abnormally attached to the thing, because it belonged to my parents, and my mom rode it, and it was part of my "inheritance." Yeah, some people have their mother’s china cabinet or maybe even her wedding dress, but I have my mother’s scooter. And I had been whining about the fact that no one could ride it, and Dave fixed that for me, and it was seriously no small thing.

So you see, Dave really is a prince when it comes to thoughtful gifts. And that’s why I don’t want you to judge him too harshly by what I’m about to tell you regarding the dreaded peacoat. In truth, this gift also SEEMED perfect at the time he gave it to me. I needed a coat and it looked lovely coming out of that box last Christmas morning. But after only a few outings, it began to display its one painfully obvious flaw. It’s black, and therefore it needs the CONSTANT attention of a lint brush.

Now everyone knows that I barely take the time to brush my hair in the mornings, so you can just imagine how much I despise having to take the time to brush my coat too. As such, I don’t brush it nearly enough, and therefore I look even more unkempt than usual, at least on cold days. Lately, I’ve noticed my family and friends picking the lint off me wherever and whenever they so choose, and I’m wondering how many total strangers have been tempted but too shy to do the same.

So this morning when I put on the dreaded coat, I was actually thinking that my only hope was that they really DON’T make things like they used to. Because didn’t people wear their winter coats for years and years back in the those good old days? And I’m not sure I can take years and years with this coat. For once, I hope that whoever crafted this thing embraced the whole modern shoddy workmanship philosophy...so it will literally fall apart at the seams, someday soon, and I can start over. Of course, I won’t be surprised if in a cruel twist of fate, this coat will be prove to be indestructible. I will keep you posted.

I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate my return to the blogging fold than to enjoy a delicious lunch of tuna and wheat thins today. For dessert, I had a piece of warm-from-the-oven cherry pie, made by my husband who has inexplicably become a pie-baking machine lately. But that story will have to wait for another day.