More (Un)Romantic Tales

So with it being Valentine Day yesterday and the the fact that I keep hearing the marvellous song Grenade by Bruno Mars I've been thinking about past Valentine Days.



The Valentine Day that springs to mind was in 1986 when I was in my third year at university and had been with the same boyfriend since the first term in the first year. I'll call him.... Twerp... just to make it easier you understand. Well Twerp and I had a lot in common. We both studied history, had older parents, were "entertainers", loved the arts and acting. He had a brilliant mind too - and was probably the best raconteur that I've ever come across. No one delivered a punch line like he did. I've always thought it was tragic he never went into the theatre and chose the safety of the classroom.

He was also nuts. Yep, nuts. It was a relationship full of emotional highs and lows... the stuff I put up with is unbelievable. I would never put up with that now but he was my first love and sometimes us girls don't see sense, particularly the first time round. Hmm... I particularly remember the time he stood me up when we were supposed to be having dinner with my parents. Yeah, I remember that one alright, why the no-good stinking, selfish, inconsiderate.....

Oh excuse me, just got a little distracted there....

Right back to the story. So anyway this particular Valentine Day my girlfriends and I had picked up our post and were seated at a big table in the dining room (we were in halls) and opening our cards. So Mrs T (or Miss D as I was then) opens her card and finds...

A COW

Yes, that's right. On the front of the card was a picture of big, fat cow. Now granted it was accompanied by some witty phrase and everyone thought it was hysterical but inside Miss D was not impressed at all. Now it's true I was already known for my sharp wit but a COW?! No, no, no, no. Mrs T has always been a warm hearted soul and would never say anything spurious about anyone...except a few minor celebrities...maybe the odd politician...the occasional film star... in truth Readers Mrs T is almost an angel....

Anyway, I thinks it fair to say that jokes aside, underneath Mrs T was a tad bit hurt. Yeah, alright Valentine Day is a commercial rip off but if you do decide to participate you gotta do it right eh? Flowers, beautiful cards, chocolates, jewellery....

So anyway about 18 months later the relationship was coming to a close. He'd gone off to do further study and I'd gone off into the big wide world and I came to my senses. It took me a while... but eventually I realised that the best kind of love is an equal love and so I went to see him and call it a day at which point he asked me to marry him and I said "no." A decision I've never regretted.

So the moral of this tale is;

Never, ever, send your girlfriend a picture of a cow. You may live to regret it!

Ps... I am really nice really. Honest.

PPs... It was a Jersey Cow.

Some lovely gifts and an(unromantic) tale

So anyway, there I was last week banging my head on the dining room table trying to figure out what to do with my novel when there's a knock at the door. It's the postman and he has a parcel for me, all way from the USA!

Fortunately, it wasn't a writ. It was a lovely parcel from my friend Marie over at Nourish!

Being the dignified woman I am, I delicately removed the packaging, folded the wrapping paper and stored it away.

Okay, I didn't. I ripped it open whilst screaming "Yippee, yippee a prezzie for Mrs T! Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!"

Yeah - I am that sad. I don't get presents that often. Well not unless you count car parking tickets.

So I ripped open the paper and found this beautiful scarf pictured below which is hand knitted by Marie herself! What can I say but a very big THANK YOU to Marie. It's gorgeous and I shall be wearing it for years!

Now here's where my little story starts. So I've been writing in the dining room because my study is... a little messy. Or what we might colloquially describe in the UK as a "shit tip." When I've got my courage back I'll tidy it up but at the moment I'm taking the easy way out. So later that day, I'm writing away with Marie's other gift, a lovely decorative wall hanging which couldn't have come at a more appropriate time with all my novel dilemmas, and Mr T comes into the dining room and looks over my shoulder and sees the wall hanging.


"She belives she could so...she did."

Very, very slowly and without words Mr T places his forefinger over the first "S" so that the message now reads;

"He believes she could so...she did."     

Now Mrs T has been married to the good Mr T for nearly 20 years and has known him for 25 years. And let me tell you it wasn't the washing up he wanted me to do. Yep, Mrs T knows EXACTLY the way his mind works. (Fortunately, he doesn't have a clue how mine works) and let me tell you readers...

I kept my mouth well and truly shut.

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More (un) romantic tales coming soon.