I married my good lady wife on the 12th of July in 1974.
Being a Scot and a true romantic, I pledged that I would give her one red rose for every year of said marriage on our anniversary. Being a Scot and a torn-faced cheapskate, I renegotiated said pledge in or about Year 12 and offered one red rose for every five years of marriage. Being a half-Scot and a realist, she accepted my offer.
Moving on, we are lucky enough never to have been apart for any length of time since then. Longest ever was three weeks when the Edinburgh Festival Chorus toured North America. I coped but I did not enjoy.
So, she’s in Portugal. Went there with a teaching friend for a week of chilling. The chilling was due to end tomorrow, but that’s not going to happen, is it?
Flight re-booked and she’s due back in Embra next Saturday ( via Belfast). Seriously looking forward to it.
Boadicea's Chariot 
Aww, it is lovely to hear you missing her.
xxx
With the biggest bunch of red roses she ever did see?
Oh dear, no John it doesn’t seem likely that She Who Is Missed will be back tomorrow.
How about …. no, silly idea, but a big bunch of red roses.. oh just forget it.(Smiley thing)
John; lovely to hear such a nice tale. I suggest a big bunch of red roses; that would be a good gesture.
Seems like a really big bunch of roses WOULD be in order on her return… forget your Scots blood for once in your life, hey?
(our anniversary is 11th July, but I never get roses on our anniversary. Husband half Scottish)
this cloud is causing chaos.
It may well bring down an airline or 2.
Yes, it is a bit, isn’t it! But don’t fear, Rick. I’m sure it’ll blow over.
I have encountered many romantic Scots John (Embra is riddled with ’em), so I know you speak the truth. May your delayed reunion be sweeter than rose petals.
A smiley thing from me too.
CK, good evening.
I really do miss her.
Isobel, Ara, Claire2 and Pseu, good evening as well.
See, this is the whole Mars v Venus thing, in my opinion. If the bunch of red roses is insufficiently large, I’m in for ‘So you didn’t care that I got stranded.’
If it’s too big, it’s going to be ‘What have you been doing that you need to feel guilty about?’
It’s a worry! So, I’m going for no roses and just sincere delight to see her again.
Bilby, good evening.
Your time living in Embra has given you the ability to look through the window into our national soul, in my opinion.
Smiley thing.
Listen to the girls, Mr Mackie! An enormous big bunch of roses is in order, with a confession along the lines of, “Goddess, I missed you, don’t ever leave me again! I’ve lost a stone! I could die without you!”
You can borrow the money for the roses. You can probably even borrow it from She Who Has Been Missed, though that may take some of the sparkle off it. But she “being a realist” … No, changed my mind. After all these years … borrow the money from someone else.
Hi Jaime
OK, you and the rest of the distaff side of DNMyT who have commented have got me bang to rights, to be fair.
Next Saturday morning, I have every intention of standing in Embra Airport in welcoming mode and with a serious bunch of flowers in my hand. There is no alternative, in my opinion.
You are a gent, Mr Mackie.
To be fair, John, my comment was quite subtle. 😉
Oh dear oh dear, she should have seen you off on the first renegotiation!
Red roses are naff. Buy her a bunch of about thirty cream roses, well wrapped by a florist not just 3 bunches jammed together, and none of that bloody fern, its naff too. Go to a decent florist, not some crumb cheap joint.
Really JM thought better of you, lawyers are not exactly known for their poverty are they?
You just make sure you wear a label in the afterlife so that I can dodge you!
And vice versa!
Hi CO. Always a joy.
It’s a Jock thing. You are, of course, perfectly entitled to believe that red roses are naff. For those of us on the right side of Hadrian’s Wall, they are integral to one of the world’s greatest love songs, in our opinion.
Lovely John
I can relate to you missing her. I was separated from my wife ones for 2 weeks and the last thing I ever thought of was how much I missed her.
Do the smart thing: buy her twelve rose plants. Then you can go out into the garden and pick them for her, thereby avoiding the cost of buying them every five years. 🙂
Rainer; ha ha! I never get flowers; he did buy me a Mars bar one year though! Seriously!
John; any flowers are good in my opinion. She’ll just be glad to see you 😉
Oooh, smart, Rainer. But for all we know Mr Mackie may live on one of those entirely rocky places where only shaggy cows can graze and no roses would grow at all, neither red, nor cream-colored nor blazing yellow!
Claire
How sweet. But Mars bars are notoriously difficult to grow, and don’t last as long as good quality roses.
Jamie
Cornflowers perhaps?
Rainer; yes. Roses are lovely. Got to be red, of course. Now even I’m getting picky…
Jaime; In a place I once worked in, the boss realised he had no flowers to give to a woman who was leaving. There was supposed to be a big presentation; flowers, speeches, the works. Anyway, he rushed into the school chapel, nicked the flowers, wrapped them in a paper towel and that was that!
i’m apart from my other half for about two months every year when she goes back tothe us to see family and i go to the uk to see mine. it’s hard, but it’s balanced by the anticipation of seeing each other again.
To be practical about this – do you cook, Mr Mackie?
If not, is it really your wife’s company you are missing, or just her culinary skills?
😕
John
I think I’m with Christina on that one…
But then, I can see your problem:
I’m going to suggest the ‘sincere delight’ at the airport, after all the roses will get in the way of the hugs and suitcases – and roses in the house as a surprise for when she gets home…
Lovely post John, please excuse my sniffing 😉
In reality there is only one thing you can do; Stand in the arrivals queue with some home made card from a cornflakes box; write in big words……
“Welcome home Mrs Mackie, I’ve missed you” or
“Is that you Mrs Mackie? I can’t see you for dust”
Hi Bearsey and Boa.
The cooking is not a problem since I am the designated chef of the household. It’s been quite liberating as the GLW is, to all intents and purposes, almost a veggie, except for chicken and, of course, bacon. There’s been an awful lot of meat on the menu this week.
I have to admit, however, that I am missing her superlative skills as kitchen porter and tidy-upper behind me.
Boa, you’re right and that was what I will be doing, plus cooking her a delicious meal as well (and tidying up for myself as the bonus).
Val – sounds a good idea. I’ll go for the first one. In view of the joyousness of the occasion, I might dispense with formality and use her first name.
Not going down the ‘dust’ route as there will undoubtedly be an inspection of the general state of the house as soon as she comes through the door.
Just in the hope of getting CO off on a good rant, here’s that world famous love song which ensures that red roses are never seen as naff in Jockland.
John – you say she’s a half-Scot? I’m not sure of my thinking here but why not buy her shortbread! At least that way she can share them with you. Or on the flowers theme, put an assortment in the living room or bedroom. Surprise her with the unexpected; but in your own style.
Evenin’, JM
“A wed wose. How womantic.”
Madeline Kahn as Lili Von Shtupp in “Blazing Saddles”.
OZ
Hello, OZ. I’m glad you’re back. Marsupial smiley thing.
Hiya Bilby – Big, hairy (albeit dripping wet) cyber-hugs from The Cave.
OZ
Too late for this one, but I liked this a lot, John.
Like Val, I wouldn’t worry about flowers. I prefer to think of you holding up the “Welcome back Mrs Mackie” sign at arrivals and giving her nothing but one long, heartfelt kiss and hug.
Have the huge bunch of cream roses at home to surprise her.
So much advice, what’s a fella to do? You’ll keep us posted on the return?
Lovely song by the way. And beautifully sung. I don’t know the singer but now I’ll keep an ear out for her. Thanks.
We were married on 12th July too.
OZ
Oh OZ. Your special day too. May your cave be filled with the happiest memories.