One? Two? Three? Four? Yeah...I got no clue.
So I decided to be really romantic one year and paint a picture for Sylvia for our anniversary. I was taking a class, I had bought a painting at a garage sale to paint over (a money saving trick the teacher taught us), and she was away with Kristiana for a while so I had alone time where I could leave the painting out and no one would know about it.
Well it is our anniversary once again and I thought I would drag this out and "give" it to her again because it may just be the right year. I have no idea actually. You'll see. I am not one of those "grumble grumble anniversary again" kind of guys. Don't get me wrong. I can grumble with the best of them...but not about anniversaries. In fact, whenever someone asks Sylvia and I how long we've been married, she always looks sheepishly at me to double-check her account. She is much much better now and I am happy to say that we both know that today is our nineteenth anniversary. Then why, astute reader that you are, do I keep saying "I have no idea"? I'll tell you now.
When I painted this picture...titled, 'beginning painter, moderate talent' I got distracted. If you have read more than twelve sentences in any of my blogs you will have seen that I am easily distracted. SQUIRREL! Anyway, in the middle of painting this, in the kitchen of our old house, I lost track of my counting. This shouldn't be a problem...just count again. Well that would be easy enough for someone who wasn't colorblind (OH! NOW I GET WHY THE PICTURE LOOKS LIKE THAT!!) You were all thinking it, I just said it. I had a plan. Get my wife's favorite vase. (I thought) Put it on the small round table with the lace tablecloth that dwarfed our tiny little kitchen. And paint. What a great surprise for her when she came back to flowers on the table and flowers that would last and last. (until some guy buys this at a garage sale to paint over it to save money on canvas...I heard that somewhere)
Here I was happily painting away, I had the leaves in. Some were light, some dark. Then I started putting in the flowers. One, two, three, bacon, silverware, brillo pad, honeydew, waterslide, (Did I mention that in addition to being colorblind, I am also ADHD?) That was it. I had no idea how many roses were on the painting and I'll be darned if roses and leaves don't have a very similar shape in the world of Jeff Garrett masterpieces! I was sunk. I knew that roses, for whatever reason, were supposed to come in sets of twelve...and here I was clueless. So I went rose happy! There were, by gum, going to be at least a dozen roses. Any less and the rose cartel would have carried out the hit. As it turns out, the first thing Sylvia said when I gave her the picture was, "There aren't twelve." OK, so it wasn't the first thing...but it was in the top three. I'm glad I covered my bases.
So now here I am, nineteen years later, assuming that this is the year that I can give her the painting again (in the form of a blog post) with, hopefully, the correct number of roses. I'll never know.
What I do know is that I love Sylvia more now than I did when we got married. She is the rudder to the craziness that happens in my wacky brain. I'm grateful every day for the love that she gives and the patience she shows toward this crazy guy. I hope you enjoyed this Honey. But more importantly...I hope there really are nineteen roses in that painting.
I love you!
Jeff
 |
| A painting I made for Sylvia in 1995. It still hangs in our room. |
Well it is our anniversary once again and I thought I would drag this out and "give" it to her again because it may just be the right year. I have no idea actually. You'll see. I am not one of those "grumble grumble anniversary again" kind of guys. Don't get me wrong. I can grumble with the best of them...but not about anniversaries. In fact, whenever someone asks Sylvia and I how long we've been married, she always looks sheepishly at me to double-check her account. She is much much better now and I am happy to say that we both know that today is our nineteenth anniversary. Then why, astute reader that you are, do I keep saying "I have no idea"? I'll tell you now.
When I painted this picture...titled, 'beginning painter, moderate talent' I got distracted. If you have read more than twelve sentences in any of my blogs you will have seen that I am easily distracted. SQUIRREL! Anyway, in the middle of painting this, in the kitchen of our old house, I lost track of my counting. This shouldn't be a problem...just count again. Well that would be easy enough for someone who wasn't colorblind (OH! NOW I GET WHY THE PICTURE LOOKS LIKE THAT!!) You were all thinking it, I just said it. I had a plan. Get my wife's favorite vase. (I thought) Put it on the small round table with the lace tablecloth that dwarfed our tiny little kitchen. And paint. What a great surprise for her when she came back to flowers on the table and flowers that would last and last. (until some guy buys this at a garage sale to paint over it to save money on canvas...I heard that somewhere)
Here I was happily painting away, I had the leaves in. Some were light, some dark. Then I started putting in the flowers. One, two, three, bacon, silverware, brillo pad, honeydew, waterslide, (Did I mention that in addition to being colorblind, I am also ADHD?) That was it. I had no idea how many roses were on the painting and I'll be darned if roses and leaves don't have a very similar shape in the world of Jeff Garrett masterpieces! I was sunk. I knew that roses, for whatever reason, were supposed to come in sets of twelve...and here I was clueless. So I went rose happy! There were, by gum, going to be at least a dozen roses. Any less and the rose cartel would have carried out the hit. As it turns out, the first thing Sylvia said when I gave her the picture was, "There aren't twelve." OK, so it wasn't the first thing...but it was in the top three. I'm glad I covered my bases.
So now here I am, nineteen years later, assuming that this is the year that I can give her the painting again (in the form of a blog post) with, hopefully, the correct number of roses. I'll never know.
What I do know is that I love Sylvia more now than I did when we got married. She is the rudder to the craziness that happens in my wacky brain. I'm grateful every day for the love that she gives and the patience she shows toward this crazy guy. I hope you enjoyed this Honey. But more importantly...I hope there really are nineteen roses in that painting.
I love you!
Jeff
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