poured out before bed
Mr. Whine is an excellent physician, a fine contributing member of society, a taxpayer, a law-abider, a good son and neighbor. Oh, and he’s a great husband. But he’s not so good at remembering birthdays. Or anniversaries. Or really much of anything when it comes to calendar dates. So, knowing the surprise-shock-embarrassed look I typically get upon surrendering a thoughtful gift or card on a special day, I opted to play it cool this Valentine’s day (read: not participate. Everyday should be Valenine’s day if you love each other, right?). Valentine’s day fell during my general surgery rotation, meaning six days of the week I was getting home long after dark only to fall into bed, rising but a few hours later for rounds and a redo. True to form, on that commercial day of love I stumbled home, bleary eyed and hoping for nothing but a rendezvous with my bed linens and expecting to find my husband exhibiting his usual stertor among said bedding.
But our apartment lights were glowing as I pulled into the building. When I entered, the apartment was bright, spotless (GASP!), smelling of wispy rose incense. Intrigued (and a bit loopy from lack of sleep) I dropped my gear and wandered into the open concept living space. I was struck by the warm light in the room – every surface, nook, and cranny was covered with lit glass votives – and by the sweet greeting of a smiling, coiffed Mr. Whine, who sat grinning before a gorgeous homemade torte. Hanging above him and that delicious torte – the lovely capris shell light fixture I’d admired for quite a long while. He’d gotten it for a song thanks to a mega sale + a timely coupon. We enjoyed the torte and the candlelight, slipping in a few hours of sleep before I had to leave for work again – but what a great memory. And what a great pendant light!