It’s our Valentine wedding anniversary - number 24 –
although, I’ve thought for sure and without a doubt it was the 24th
for the last three years in a row. What
do you suppose that means?
I respected the ritual that accompanies the day; ordered chocolates from a new (to us) company, bought some bubbly, and set my sights on
doing a normal day’s work because that’s what is always on the schedule – other
than taking a short break to accompany my husband to the dentist to have another
crown installed.
There’s additional significance to 2/14/11, because it marked the final day that Dan will be milking on the dairy farm.
He’s been doing twice-daily chores for 35 years – minus two
spent at college.
I call it “the final day” because I want badly for it to be
so, but it isn’t. Someone will have to
step in if our new recruit becomes sick, injured - or God-forbid - wants a day
off, or a vacation.
The trifecta seems to call for a celebration with stuffed
chicken breasts (our wedding reception meal), music, dancing, chocolates, and a
commemorative plaque or engraved pocket-watch.
Naw. That’s not like us at all! And it’d mean more if I just bought him a new
wallet, because he needs one after sending his raggedy ID carrier through the
laundry so often.
I’ll be getting myself something, too, because that’s only
fair - probably slippers.
To recap: February 15th was the day that Dan mainly/mostly won’t be milking any more,
and I’m buying myself a present.
Don’t worry about him finding things to do. I’ve got plenty of work in mind – and not
from a job-jar or honey-do list. He’s
going to be working for me at the cheeseplant.
Or “with me,” depending on how you choose to look at it.
We will be making more cheese - mainly blues – nixing the
harder to age or fussy varieties that we have offered in the past. Still, we won’t be “big-time”. There has to be a production rhythm that fits
with all the other farm activities he will still be participating in.
Hopefully, the increase in inventory won’t result in obligatory
demos around the state. I hate doing
demos. It’s like sampling out free cheese
at farmer’s market, over and over again.
I lose my voice frustratingly fast during those sessions because
I don’t do much daily speaking. Getting weaky/scratchy/talky
when trying to promote the business is counter-productive, and it happens to me
every time.
I had a point, and then lost it trying to make this all
about me.
Where was I?
Oh, yeah. Dan’s Last
Day.
I figured the milestone (at least) called for a modest dinner at a
restaurant. I knew that would please him
to no end, since he claims I ‘suck all the joy out of going out to eat’ because
of my food allergies.
I vowed to eat plain salad like a good sport, and raise a
glass to him on his our special day.
(He ate well. I'm still looking forward to going shopping, though.)
(He ate well. I'm still looking forward to going shopping, though.)
