FUEL anthology publication day!
1 year ago
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
The men in my family...and I get the feeling that most men, unless they are very carefully taught...seem lost when it comes to gift-giving for women. Particularly during holidays like Valentines day. I'm sort of the same way. It's part of my odd brain chemistry or architecture that I tend to think more like a man at times. But I was very carefully taught.
I've simplified my gift giving and it's much easier now. I send things I make here on the farm. Goat milk fudge, wild-crafted jam and jelly, and home-made soaps and skin creams. They are the humble gifts of my hands and my heart. I offer them with love and hope they are taken in the spirit in which they are given.
Part of the confusion, I believe, is that women come in two different flavors as far as what they like to receive. Some women are practical. Some are more moved by gesture. You can cover both by being aware as to which type of woman you are dealing with. Practical women are okay with gesture-oriented gifts like flowers and perfume. Gesture-oriented women are trickier. You can really stick your foot in you mouth giving a gesture-oriented woman something with a cord.
And, of course, the worst thing of all, is to do nothing. We don't believe for a minute that you just "forgot".
I came along late in my parent's lives. By that time, my father had his gift-giving technique as far as my mother was concerned, down to a fine if predictable science. He would bring home African Violets for her. She seemed to really love the little plants and the window sills were always covered with them. Valentines or her birthday or their wedding anniversary merited the addition of a bottle of her favorite perfume. Either Chanel #5 or Joy. And sometimes a box of Baci or Almond Roca.
My mother, like me, was not the sort to turn her nose up at practical gifts. She loved the African Violets, Baci and perfume, but Christmas meant things with cords. I, too, love to get things with cords. Preferably power tools. Ouuu baby...bring on the major appliances and skilsaws and watch my knees buckle.
One Christmas, Mother got a microwave oven from Dad. It was enormous and one of the first models to come out. She was thrilled and we all had a great time exploring how many sorts of food items the thing could ruin before deciding it did rice, baked potatoes and bacon very nicely.
My sister, Simone, is of the other sort of woman. She is a blonde goddess of taste, beauty and breeding. When she walks in the room, everyone stares at her. Men want her to the point of stupefaction and women want to scratch her green eyes out. Or at the very least just bask in her reflected glory.
My sister is Byron's woman. The "walks in beauty like the night" sort of woman. The sort of woman who is a muse to poets, whose very visage inspires great works of arts in celebration of her beauty. I'm more the gal from Shakespeare's sonnet 130. "My mistress, when she walks, treads the ground." Yes, that's me. In my men's size 10 duck boots.
Quite frankly, if you misinterpret a woman like my sister as being the sort of woman who enjoys getting something with a cord, you deserve every bit of hot, steaming scorn that comes your way. You idiot. That will be a very expensive hole to dig out of. 3 carats or a trip to Paris expensive. So don't fuck up, okay?
I remember those little African Violets. How sweet they were and how delicate a gift to come from my big, strong Daddy. When my mother was dying from cancer, we fixed up the downstairs "florida room" so that she could stay home while she was dying. Like the violets, my father seemed much more fragile suddenly.
Every one of those window sills was littered with African Violets. We ran out of places to put them. I still weep when I see one.
That's love poetry.
Labels: gifts, Valentine's Day, Violets
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Happy Valentine's Day..
Happy Valentine's Day
YOU HAD ME AT "GOAT'S MILK FUDGE"...I stopped being able to concentrate after I read that.
...I'll have to lie down and come back and read the rest later, at which time, I AM CERTAIN YOU WILL HAVE RECTIFIED THE HIDEOUS OVERSIGHT OF THE ABSENCE OF A RECIPE.........
....Mmmmm...mMMmm....fudge...
Just beautiful.
(And remember, its Food Porn FRIDAY, not Sneak Up Food Porn Weekday Whenever. Throws me off.)
And, of course, I shall refrain from any Simone comments, it being Valentine's Day and all!
Had me at the goat's milk fudge, too.
Thanks, V-man! Praise from you is always appreciated. I'll have to send you some fudge once I get enough milk to start the Jammery going again.
They are not as great in bed as they think they are either.
GOAT MILK ICE CREAM LINK....I hope you can go visit....now commence to CHURNIN'!!!!!!!!
Was it good for y'all too? Yeah, darlins: all y'all.
Current music: Beethoven, opus 135. Current attitude: plentiful. What would you like it on? I oughta run a deli: quick lunch midtown: why not?
Oh my gracious. I just stopped in to say I quoted this on the phone this morning to my daughter, who is majorly besmitten; beautifully done, Rosie.
Hmmph. Silly machine doesn't know besmitten. I admit to trifflin with the language now and again, but really.
Oh Hell.
It's me again
JohnieB