Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Friday, August 18, 2017

Fuzzy, Warm Love

And each of them has/had a name. Please don't test me . . .
My first date with my Husby-to-be was memorable.
On so many levels.
You can read about it here.
Go ahead . . . we'll wait . . .
Our second date was even more memorable. But for more exciting reasons.
It was the occasion of our first kiss.
Let me see if I can describe it . . .
Chore time. The sun has set.
Darkness drifts slowly over the prairie.
A large, quiet feed lot. Young bulls in the background, munching on grains.
The smell of fresh manure wafts on the cool, autumn breeze.
A young man and woman snared in the light of the mercury-vapour lamp.
Hey, this is ranching country, what did you expect? The light of the moon?! 
Their eyes lock. They move closer . . .
You get the picture.
Romantic?
Okay, maybe not to the normal person.
Fortunately for me, Husby-to-be was as un-normal as his wife-to-be.
A perfect match.
But the date was only beginning. After our kiss, we returned to my parent’s home.
And that’s when I received my second surprise of the evening.
When we stepped into the vestibule (ooh! I like that word), Husby-to-be pulled a little package out of his pocket. “Here,” he said, smiling. “I brought you something.”
Have I mentioned that I love surprises? Well, I do.
Moving on . . .
I quickly opened the little bag and tipped out two little fuzzy men. Pom-pom people. With magnets on the back.
Ooooh! Cute!
“Thank you!” I said. Then I gave him a kiss.
It seemed like an appropriate response. And I’d just discovered he was a great kisser.
Ahem . . .
And so began a tradition that lasted for years and covered a large part of our fridge.
Until a bottle of home-made root beer sprayed all over them.
Sigh.
Then they were relegated to a shadow box.
For safety.
And posterity.
I love traditions.
Almost as much as I love my Husby . . .

13 comments:

  1. Beginnings are so much fun. What a sweet story.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Karen! I like beginnings, too!

      Delete
  2. Sometimes we start these traditions and over the years they get a tad out of hand...my Mom did that with salt and pepper shakesrs and spoons.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, my word! My mom collected salt and pepper shakers! MIL collected spoons. Hundreds. Of. Spoons.

      Delete
  3. Your tale of the warm fuzzies has spread them...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Too bad there's no way to clean the root beer off. Such a sweet story!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I tried cleaning one when the Root Beer was fresh. I ruined it! I decided they might be a little stained, but they would be whole!
      And thank you!

      Delete
  5. What a great story and the fuzzies are adorable!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. They don't quite compare to collecting pugs. But close . . .

      Delete
  6. Then years later, I started a new tradition with your daughter. Gum wrapper hearts!

    ReplyDelete
  7. This is an attractive way to store them - and even better, they stay dust-free! To be honest, I'd rather fuzzy animals than diamonds anyhow ...

    ReplyDelete

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