"Let the wife make the husband glad to come home,
and let him make her sorry to see him leave."

Pages

My husband and I are firm believers that real, genuine Christmas trees are mandatory.

See? THIS is the one. Perfect tree.

I'm such a big help... ;)

...photo chronicle proof :P.

You carry the tree, I'll get the saw. Tasks befitting our roles as husband and wife. Respectively.

Ok, fine. I was gonna help... but I just forgot.

I love you, Jonathan. :)
Such disappointment drove me to make an appointment with Mrs. Havener for us to come visit. The date was fixed for the last Friday in January, and we all anticipated it with bated breath.

When we arrived, Jonathan was at the garage submitting his car for repair and had just phoned his mother for a ride home. I was elected by her to accompany Emily to the task... we were to go in Jonathan's white F-150.

Wait, Jonathan has a pick-up truck???? Oooh man.

We had a fantastic time talking and laughing and reminiscing old times, not shying away from talking the cab to it's volume limit. When we arrived, the noise mysteriously ceased and we watched Jonathan, obviously take aback at my presence climb into the truck, hardly saying a word. (He tells me that he expected Ruby, if anyone, to come.) I decided to break the ice, and believe me, I had the most brilliant thing to say: "Hello, Jonathan Havener." And to my delight he came up with something equally original: "Hello, Chloe Hopkins." I loved to hear a guy say my name, and I've heard words are powerful, but really? That set the ball rolling? Really?

When we returned, the outdoor activities commenced and the horses were saddled and ridden. Ruby took off in in a canter across the field which ended in one dramatic tumble, and when I was finally persuaded switch my coat for something less refined (which belonged to Jonathan, but I didn't find this out until much later) and go for a ride myself, I was proud that I 'made it under twenty minutes' around the field, perfectly content in allowing my lazy horse to embrace it's laziness, emersed in a placid walk. I wasn't about to risk do something that looked silly, they were already laughing at me. On the home stretch I managed a trot, bouncing up and down like a... (words escape me).

We had wonderful time sitting around the living room talking together, on average 4-5 conversations going at once. Jonathan always insisted on sitting next to me. At one point, he put his arm around me when one of the little boys teased us about flirting. But when the joke was over, his arm stayed. We bid our goodbyes full of joy and amusement from the combination of our two families, Jonathan always giving me one more hug than he gave everyone else. I sometimes wonder if he kept giving other people hugs just so he could give me one more. He told me I must come visit again "extraordinarily soon", and the rest of the Havener herd agreed that I should move in as they were in need of another older brunette sister to live with them. I was happy to have seen them all. I had enjoyed myself so. I wondered when I would see them again, but never dreamed it would be so soon.

Three days later, my father received an email from Jonathan requesting permission to pursue a relationship with me. This information was withheld from me for the next week and a half, during which I chatted online with him for hours each day. He didn't know that I didn't know. When daddy did break the news to me, my response was frank, "You're kidding, right?" It was the last thing I was expecting. and I thought I wasn't that interested at first, so i told him that I really didn't want to be in a relationship. With the knowledge of Jonathan's feelings, and two days more in communication with him, I had changed my mind.

Two weeks later Jonathan, Emily, and David (another Havener) drove up to see a play I had designed costumes for. It was a very treacherous winter night, snowing like it was going out of style. Home from the play, we decided they needed to contact their parents to request permission to spend the night. There wasn't any way they were going home that night. Finally!
We got our sleepover! Well, I didn't sleep... I spent the night lying awake and falling in love.

The next weekend (March), our relationship became official. No one had more fun spending weekends at each others families houses than we did. We took long walks, attended social events, and did all sorts of other things that I can't remember. Our courtship was short and sweet. Six weeks.

One windy, rainy, April 17th morning, Jonathan was discussing a business proposition with my little brothers in my room while I lounged on my bed with my little sisters, fresh out of the shower, grungy clothes (out of character for me), and hair a messy wet state of tousleness. Jonathan and the boys departed to (I thought) prepare the work the boys were to do. I thought, "Perfect... I can throw on some real clothes before he comes back up." Or not. He was on his way back up before i had time to finish thinking. I greeted him with a hug, which made the fact that he was trembling from head to foot very apparent. What in the world!

"Johnny, why are you shaking??"
"You'll find out in a minute." (That went right over my head.)
"What are you talking about??"
"Well, I'm not very good at being original..." (And so did that.)
"Huh????"
"...but... will you marry me?"
"Seriously??" Here he presented me with a beautiful three-stone diamond ring set in white gold.
"Well, I'll have to think about it." (Way to stall, Chloe. I knew the answer since that night I lay awake.) Several moments of me being speechless ensued. Of course, I filled them with little squeals and plenty of hugs and kisses and the like.
"Chloe Laurene, I love you more than anything in the world."
"Well... then... umm.... yes!!" At this point, the little girls looked up from what they were doing and wondered why we were acting so weird.
"Jonathan just proposed!"
"No he didn't... you're just joking."
"No she's not, we're engaged!!"

*GASP*


Life just wasn't the same without the Haveners. We stayed in the area, but they just kept moving further and further away. Unfortunately, this meant our visits became further and further apart. We were invited to go visit every year for Emily's birthday which was seldom uneventful and never sufficient. Full of adventures like little boys sledding into tailpipes, magnificent thunderstorms toppling trees across the driveway left every child praying for something to detain us overnight, determined that one day we would succeed in our endeavors.

On one of our infrequent sojourns to Holmes County (where our friends now resided), Hayley, of the Findlay Haveners and dear cousin, was staying with Emily. Us girls had a marvelous time together romping i the words discussing makeup and nail polish, but when we went inside, there was no escaping the inevitable Lord of the Rings discussion.

The reader must first understand that were are the kind who pick apart book and movie alike to see how accurate everything on screen has been interpreted, who find in necessary to dicuss character relationships at great lengths, who keep a copy of Tolkien's own Complete Guide to Middle Earth next to our dictionaries, and who must, MUST breakdown the lineup to WHO is the cutest... inside and out. This is where Pippin Comes in.

I was an aficionado. Always had been. Pippin was my favorite. Hayley couldn't agree. Not having seen the movies yet didn't exactly help her opinion either. No, to her Peregrin Took was a ditsy sidekick. This made me laugh and I had to agree with her because I like the term so much, but it didn't change my feelings for Pip, not one bit. We parted ways agreeing to disagree, destined to be wonderful friends. (It should be duly noted the Hayley has since become a great admirer of Pippin.)

Another time, we were all saying our goodbyes, Jonathan was sending each Hopkins into the van with a pleasant hug. I was the last to get in and he turned to me and said, "I would give you a hug, but I don't think you would like it, so I won't." And shut the door behind me. O! Woe was I! How unfeeling, how cruel! What assumptions that affect our lives! Sullen and dejected, I rode the entire 1.5 hour ride home in silent contemplation about the blissful embrace I had so sorely missed out on! Alright, so I was disappointed, but had no idea why. Well, I know now...

Our visits were all promising of great fun, and when we were all together we wondered why we stayed apart so long. Then it came. The four-hundred years of silence. Actually it was only four, and they weren't completely silent. For various reasons we couldn't make it to their house for Emily's birthday three years in a row. For reasons unbeknown to me, we forgot how much funny we used to have with them and the news that 'this year just wasn't going to work out' was followed merely by momentary disappointment. As we neared the close of those four years our contact gradually diminished, until Ruby and I reconnected with Jonathan via virtual communication in the Autumn of 2009. Ruby talked to him quite alot, and I never did. She would tell me what a wonderfully cheerful guy he was all the time, and so I felt inspired to write a parody for and about him, assuring him the rewritten song "His For Life" had no romantic implications. Riiiiight. Regardless, he enjoyed the new words immensely.

Then came December and Peter was getting married. Somehow, by God's providential decree, the Havener's made it off the waiting list and were bestowed an invitation... which they accepted with great anticipation. I couldn't have been more excited to greet our friends on the wedding day, and reminisce with them on what wonderful times we used to enjoy with each other. Only, I was a member of the wedding party and I had to wait before released to indulge in such pleasures. When the time finally came, I rushed forth with one thing on my mind: find the Haveners at all costs. My quick scan of the reception hall produce no visual of what I was seeking, and meeting up with Ruby, my heart sank and hit the floor.

"They left!"

(To be continued.)

Peter and Jonathan couldn't have been better friends. Their closeness was to be topped by no one. None, that is, but their younger sisters: Chloe and Emily, respectively. Jonathan looked up to Peter, wanted to be just like him. Wanted to be with him all the time.

One day, Peter and Jonathan were examining something special, something Jonathan was proud of: a two-dollar bill.
"That's not worth anything anymore."
"Yes it is!"
"No it's not, but I'll tell you what. If you give me that, then you can have something worth more -my fifty-cent piece."
"Okay! Gee, thanks Peter... you're my best friend."

But unfortunately, Jonathan was blinded by his admiration for his friend Peter, and allowed himself to be swindled more than once by that Hopkins boy. Hired to rake leaves for the neighbor lady, Peter insisted he receive more on account that he lassoed the work, and after laboring just as hard as Peter, Jonathan received five dollars, letting his companion to walk away with the remaining fifteen. Don't get me wrong, Peter wasn't always mean, just when it benefited him.

Emily and Chloe had a bit of a different relationship. While being inseparable, they were a smidgen more fair to one another. These little girls, as all little girls do, loved to play babies and house, the things they saw their mommies doing. Well. These girls had it special. Their mommies were having lots of babies at home and Chloe and Emily happened to be the best, most skilled midwives in the area.

The lives of these children, Hopkins and Havener alike, were full of wonderful tales. Trips to the zoo, mismatching socks, fantastic costumes, Vaseline, forts, and braided hair. Pony rides, missed opportunities, cops and robbers, twins, bicycles and streamers, and everything that binds the hearts of children together. How fortunate that they lived across from one another.

As all good things must come to an end, the black day arrived when we, the Hopkins children, received the saddest news in the world. The Haveners were moving away.

To be continued...



So... all this time I thought our dryer didn't have a lint trap...

Well... today (months later) I found it...


(this is some of the lint I pulled from the trap and dryer)

No wonder our clothes were taking hours to dry. I was home schooled. I should know better.

It was after a quiet breakfast that my husband reclined himself on the couch in the living room, the cushions in disorder and the coffee table strewn with articles of mail and a few books, including James Herriot's All Creatures Great and Small. I was sure that repose was a nice feeling after working all night in a nursing home. I rattled on and on about all the things I wanted to accomplish that day, not neglecting a few rabbit trails here and there to spice up my ideas. His eyelids drooped lazily and I pretended to be offended that he was so bored with my conversation. He was very tired, especially after the 6.5 sporadic hours of sleep he had gotten the day before. I lovingly suggested that he retire to sleep.
"Could you read me a story please?" He was feeling a bit young at heart.
"What shall I read?"
"Our book, of course!"
"Oh, right. Well... get into bed."
Johnny headed straight for our room which houses the infamous Marshmallow: all white, and wonderful to sleep on. He crawled and sank into cozy wonder, the morning sunlight flooding through the window. I sat next to him and propped myself up with pillows, just looking at him... intensely amused. He stared at me like a confused child, wondering what was talking me so long to read.
"I'm ready! Wait, I need Oma Horse and gator-ade." Johny scrambled out of bed and retrieved his cherished fiber-filled friends, took a flying leap back into bed, and carefully tucked the down comforter in around his companions, Oma Horse in the crook of his left arm, Gator-ade in the crook of his right, and a wonderfully boyish grin spread across his face, enhancing the excitement in his blue eyes. "Okay. We're ready. Read us a story."
I began to read this lively tale, transporting us into the world of this beloved English veterinarian, interrupting myself every now and then with a question: "'...my employer had left some time ago to do the P.M. on Lord Hulton's horse.' I forget what P.M. stands for... what does it stand for Johnny?"
"Post-mortem."
"Oh that's right. Okay, 'post-mortem.'"
Lord Hulton's horse had to be shot in the last chapter. Put from the agony of a colic and torsion. I was glad that that chapter had been over. Today we were getting to meet Tristan, a real character I'm finding out. The story continued in a very colorful and well versed manner. It was not long however before I sensed the being next to me, buried deep in the marshmallow soft as a lullaby, relax and become less and less responsive. His breathing deepened. Oma Horse and Gator-ade repossessed their places on the floor and Johnny's eyes closed.
As the chapter came to an end and my voice ceased, He opened his eyes and smiled at me. He closed them again without breathing a word. Johnny was asleep. I shut the book and climbed out of bed. Glancing once more at my husband, I was amazed at the sweet, deep slumber which he was entering into. It made me smile as I left the room, closing the door behind me.


**Every event in this story is true.**
Apparently I don't blog enough. My sister tells me that once every ten months simply does not do my little Strawberry Patch justice. I don't see why since she's an awful lot to measure to. But I guess one must do something to keep the the goings on in one's life recorded. I can't seem to be constant with a journal, but then, neither have I been habitual in my blogger... uhh... habits. I hereby declare my resolve to reform my wicked ways and become and faithful, enchanting blogger! Okay, maybe that's a little ambitious, but may I at least entertain :).

The last thing I posted was (besides my darling sister Ruby and I being silly) about my oldest brother got married. Well, he's still married, and now I am too! Just pretend you know me but only hear about my life on my blog. I know, I know... where did that come from, right? You're probably ready to shake the living daylights out of me. I know... I didn't do My Strawberry Patch readers justice... I should have let you in the on the story. Well, I will. I'll tell it all. A wonderful romance in three harmonious volumes! Just long enough to include all the must-have details, but short enough to keep you reading. I won't overbear. I promise.

Well, I heave a sigh as I wrap up the evening's jots and tittles. Turning one's life around is enough work for one day, best not to embark on my life story just yet. I promise the first installment BY the beginning of the week :).

Thank you again for whatever it was.




Peter and his lovely new bride, Angela: The new Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins :). Wow!!!