Sunday, February 12, 2012

Snow Day

Snow Day at Porcupine Farms isn't really a day off.  It's just more time to deal with the snow.  And firewood.  And the wood stove.  And more firewood.  And ashes.  And wet dogs.  In the ashes.  And I get wear my Carhartt and smell like Aspen 'cause everything I own smells like my ass been coddling the wood stove.

Isn't this what husbands do?

In truth, I am spending this snow day writing about that husband because he isn't here right now  hee hee... I devote today to Chris, the husband who has put up with me for over 11 years.

The one who still leaves me love notes in my "regular routine" early morning cabinetry... the one who packs me a healthy lunch (so he doesn't have to deal with my bottomed out sugar levels at the end at the day)... the one who says "honey, you look so sexy sometimes"... the one who still has my PMS programmed on his Palm Pilot even though I haven't menstruated in 6 years.  He still stocks up on chocolate, though.  He rubs my aching feet when his hurt more.  He picks up pizza in blizzards.  And he is the one who reassures me that everything little thing is gonna be alright. Oh, and he lets me love Bobby Labonte.

This is why I want to thank him for his supporting my decision to take part in the Avon Walk with my sister.

There's a part of Chris that cringes when he sees "pink ribbonism"... my new pink iphone cover or a pink ribbon tote bag, or pink pens and paper.  I don't blame him.  It sucked for him too.  And for the last few years I consciously tucked many of my tell-tale apparel and key chains and magnets banners and return address labels and tic-tacs and dog collars and license plate frames and tattoos (well, I can't really hide my tattoo, but that's different) away.  A new beginning for us as a married couple where the "new normal" for us wasn't patient/caregiver.

He helped me through breast cancer.
He helped me bury my father, his best friend.
He is my mirror (I could use a shave).
He is Santa Claus at the SAL in T-Burg.
And he is probably blushing like crazy right now!

So, Chris... thank you for letting my repressed inner "peeeeenk" come back out so that my sister and I can make this happen.

Thank you letting me go down this rabbit hole with my sister as the Mad Hatter.

1 comment:

Just Let Me Finish This Chapter said...

Thank you, Chris, for lending me your wife to walk with ... I promise to send her back with Lush goodies and blisters.