tokens of love (my album title*)

the first I ever received was the toy that came in a Rice Krispie packet, dropped for me in my front garden by the wall to the left under the shrub, by a boy in Year Six at Primary School

the second the sonnet, Shall I Compare Thee, written out in tiny beautiful script with edge decoration on a scrap of paper, by a boy who dated me when I was fourteen

the third a boquet of flowers delivered to me "anonymously" in the depths of a Canadian winter (-30 in Edmonton in December is cold cold cold!), by a boy from Wales (there is no such thing as anonymous with flower deliveries from a shop)

the fourth two books, The Rubyat of Omar Kayam (sp?) and The Prophet, given to me by someone almost twice my age who should have known better

the fifth the time of someone who used to take the night bus across London in the small hours, if I needed company

the sixth (which I have described before) four Valentines from the four corners of the earth all timed to arrive within a matter of hours on Valentine's Day, from a man who loved me

the seventh a small ivory elephant - now lost, given to me by my mother to look after for her when she had died

the eighth rooms full of flowers on my honeymoon night (because there had been no flowers at my mother's funeral and I was determined to have masses at my wedding) (but actually didn't have the budget for them at the end of the day) (so XCH had arranged for our room - which The Savoy very kindly upgraded to a suite at no extra cost, because I'd complained about the cost of the "honeymoon package") (you paid extra for the "free champagne and bunch of flowers on arrival" - and I'd pointed out, in the innocence of my youth, that that really wasn't good enough) - I admired the flowers and took photos of them for posterity, but it was only years later that XCH told me he'd paid for them all - they hadn't come with the room courtesy of the management. . .

the ninth a very handsome wooden handmade Noah's Ark (I have one of those "things" that you have, about Noah's Arks) under the xmas tree the first year that XCH finally got a decent payrise - it is a Shaker style one, and each of the children had chosen a pair of animals to go with it, which I found wrapped in my stocking before I discovered what was in the large box under the xmas tree

the tenth a handful of white roses, thrust at me across the threshhold - confidently not nervously and certainly not anonymously - freshly cut from one of those rambling rose bushes, lots of long wirey stalks all bent and crooked, masses and masses of flowers: some in bloom, some with the petals dropping off all over the place, some still in bud; the roses lasted far longer and looked more beautiful than any bunch of flowers I'd ever brought into the house or had delivered by a florist

the eleventh (my favourite number) your time and thoughts and someone very special pointing out the difference between "worrying about someone" and "caring for someone"

the twelfth (how do you spell that?), almost a constant in my life these days, and most certainly the most important, my Small (but Growing) People


*as per

15 comments:

Dave said...

*waves. that's all, just waves*

I, still, like the views said...

I like waves! and ripples, and pools, and rivers and streams, and seas and oceans, and rain and hail and snow (but not sleet) - erm, where were we?

*waves*

luther blisset said...

I'm sure that nowadays, people twice your age do know better. But you're absolutely right about anonymity being impossible.

Dave said...

Actually, nowadays people twice your age probably don't know better. What with then having alzheimer's.

I, still, like the views said...

hello lurking luther in my vast experience anonymity is perfectly possible (a little like Mary Poppins), given the right circumstance - but is it advisable?

dave cheeky!

Malc said...

Now I feel guilty. I've been grumbling to myself about tomorrow's florists' and greeting-card-makers' benefit day (as I always do), but now I know the big bunch and soppy card will be the right thing to do and I'll give in (as I always do). Thanks.

Mel said...

Oh, the not getting found out part is the fun-est!

I have the bestest time being sneaky....*snickering*
I'm rather good at it.

I, still, like the views said...

malc bake the good woman a cake too. . . light a candle or two. . . breakfast in bed. . . a foot massage. . . a hot bath with lots of lovely bubbles and more candles. . . and the great thing about all that giving, is you know you'll enjoy it too - not that my pot is calling your kettle black

;-)


mel you're good at most things!

:-D

Rimshot said...

*sigh*

Mel said...

*chuckling*

Whatcha meant to say was "You're good at the naughty things...."

(in which case--you're RIGHT! LOL)

dinahmow said...

you've made me smile. And I still haven't had breakfast!

fathorse said...

All my tokens of love have come from my mummy, who doesn't count, and ma cousine. I don't think incest is an option.

:(

Des P said...

much love

as well as the tokens

xxx

mig bardsley said...

Coo! Neat tokens :)

Malc said...

Cake? Hell! I just can't compete with the babe in that department. She's been on baking overdrive ever since the run-up to Christmas. I blame Jamie and Nigella.

I've got special dinner planned for Friday night when she gets back to Westray. Shhhh, it's a surprise.