Unsupervised...

For the past several months, Chris and I have experienced moments of giddy happiness, when we find ourselves together, alone, in a state which have come to call, "unsupervised." It began last March, when we took a vacation to Florida to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. We realized that we were beholding to no one. There wasn't a soul waiting for us to do anything, or be anywhere, it was quite freeing and just plain fun. It was, and is, slightly reminiscent of our early married days, but better, somehow. We are reveling in these moments. We do what we want, when we want. We indulge in weekend naps, dine when we wish on what we wish, go for drives in the country,  hang out at the beach, or get a list of chores done around the farmlette.

One such "unsupervised" thing is a now 5-year tradition of what Chris calls, "daily love offerings."  It all began on a bright August morning shortly after I opened my home business. Chris had kissed me goodbye and headed out to work. On the way to his car he found a perfect, brilliant orange, maple leaf framed on the green summer grass. It caught his eye, and he scooped it, returned to the house and left it on the middle of my grooming table.  An hour or so later, when I went in to work, I saw the leaf and was delighted by the gift of it. I thanked him. His story is that when he realized I was tickled by finding a surprise on my table, he became 'Pavlov's husband,' and began to leave me a little something every single day. It might be a tube of lip balm, or an upscale magazine for the studio. It might be a dozen roses, or a box of chocolates. Sometimes its a toy for my dog or a treat for a donkey.One one memorable day it was a package of horribly unattractive white, cotton, "granny panties," which were discovered by our daughters then-boyfriend-now-husband, before I saw them. Some people are aghast at the complete and total decadence of this tradition. However, Chris seems to enjoy the challenge of finding a little something to delight me each day, and I certainly relish the joy of being showered with thoughtful gifts. If he travels, he hides a daily surprise and lets me know where to find it. If I travel, I find treasures tucked in my luggage. Yesterday's daily love offering, (D.L.O.) was a doozie.

This is commonly known as a grain shovel. I have had one and used it hard for years. It's perfect for cleaning my chicken coop. The short handle is good in a tight space, and the deep sides allow me to scoop up a lot of shavings with every swipe. The grip had broken off mine a few years back, but I still used it. Then the handle separated from the blade last week when we were using it. It was a bit like losing an old friend. I began using the blade end like a giant dust pan, but it, too, is disintegrating. So imagine my delight when my daily love offering was a brand new shovel. This is my idea of a romantic gift. Luckily, my husband knows me well enough to understand that, too. Just one more example of being unsupervised, and loving every minute.