I've been away for a few days helping our son to board and plaster two bedrooms...including the ceilings, and I'll be back on Monday to do the stairwell. One of these days I'll have a normal midweek experience.
I slept solidly and woke in leisurely manner. I read Jean's blog and thought I'd do whatever takes my fancy.
We treated ourselves to a hand-held walk to Newark and visit the market...after a breakfast treat at King Charles 1st.
We tried the downstairs room this time...
Bev gazing out onto the busy street...she saw 7 people in town that she knew...I saw none.
A smaller version of this jug caught our eye at the market and so we bought it and I, being considerate, took the responsibility to carry it home...
On the way home, the bag handle snapped and the jug hit the ground and smashed. Bev no longer wanted to hold my hand.
As she silently walked home alone, I dashed back to the market to buy another. Sadly, the smashed one was the last one...but the lady let me have the larger one and didn't charge me.
So, Bev is smiling and will hold my hand again at Kirsty's wedding reception tonight because she got the jug she really wanted anyway.
Just a thought...when Bev came running into the house in tears last year after she backed our new car into our newly built gate pillars and damaging both, I hugged and consoled her as it was only an accident, right?
Today, when I accidentally dropped an inexpensive jug, Bev's consoling words were...'You are dead meat if it's smashed'. No hug, no sympathy, no warmth. Okay, I know I shouldn't have accommodated that thought. It just popped into my mind...as they do.
Incidentally, the market lady put it in a stronger bag and then into a second bag for good measure. As she smiled to hand it to me, our eyes met and I could almost hear her thoughts...you men aren't used to carrying bags. Here, I'll make it easier for you not to mess things up again.
We men are sensitive to unspoken words (as well as unguarded spoken ones), you know:)
This little painting is the day's work. It's story is on my painting blog.
I slept solidly and woke in leisurely manner. I read Jean's blog and thought I'd do whatever takes my fancy.
We treated ourselves to a hand-held walk to Newark and visit the market...after a breakfast treat at King Charles 1st.
We tried the downstairs room this time...
As she silently walked home alone, I dashed back to the market to buy another. Sadly, the smashed one was the last one...but the lady let me have the larger one and didn't charge me.
So, Bev is smiling and will hold my hand again at Kirsty's wedding reception tonight because she got the jug she really wanted anyway.
Just a thought...when Bev came running into the house in tears last year after she backed our new car into our newly built gate pillars and damaging both, I hugged and consoled her as it was only an accident, right?
Today, when I accidentally dropped an inexpensive jug, Bev's consoling words were...'You are dead meat if it's smashed'. No hug, no sympathy, no warmth. Okay, I know I shouldn't have accommodated that thought. It just popped into my mind...as they do.
Incidentally, the market lady put it in a stronger bag and then into a second bag for good measure. As she smiled to hand it to me, our eyes met and I could almost hear her thoughts...you men aren't used to carrying bags. Here, I'll make it easier for you not to mess things up again.
We men are sensitive to unspoken words (as well as unguarded spoken ones), you know:)
This little painting is the day's work. It's story is on my painting blog.
All I can say is, God works in mysterious ways. He obviously wanted Bev to have the larger jug and this was His way of ensuring that she got it. Remind her that you were simply on the Lord's errand.
ReplyDeleteI love that painting of the three sisters. I had a smile on my face until I went to your art blog and read the story behind the painting and now I am heartbroken. :( Bless your sympathetic heart, Mr. Devine.
I think you are right, Randi...God does work in mysterious ways. I just wish He would bless me with a more consistently sympathetic heart.:)
ReplyDeleteThe story of Bev's jug is so sweet and touching...you are so sensitive. Well all's well that ends well!
ReplyDeleteI had received pics early this morning of my grand-daughter (1 'n a half yrs)) Alyssa's first visit to the beach. It was pure happines...and then I saw your painting of the sisters...
Giggle...I like how Bev got the jug she really wanted!
ReplyDeleteHi Khushi
ReplyDeleteYes, all's well that ends well. It's nice that people keep you in the loop with family photos, too.
Hi Tess
She always get what she wants in the end. I do disappoint her from time to time, though:)
I agree with Randi's take on the jug.
ReplyDeleteLove the painting. I need to head over to your painting blog now to read the story.