So, for those of you who have braved the emotional morass of the last week's entries, you now know a lot more about who we are, Les and I.

But 17 years is not all sweet moments and striking grief...more often it is times like tonight.

Tonight, we pack for Crown and I for a week's business trip. Les cooks meat pies and I planned to sew. It's Thursday before an SCA event and yep, time to sew. I know most of you just love making costumes and 10 gores are just nothin....for me it is hell. So I always put it off til it is imperative.

So, I ask Les to please help me navigate the 20 yards of linen so I can cut out tunics for the girls and instead he reaches down to get my sewing machine. I know that the machine will obstruct my laying out fabric on the dining room table and I say, "Honey, I need the material on the table first." He takes the cover off the machine and then says, "I know, I was just moving it." (It was not in the way) He picks it up and starts to slide it under a dining room chair...I can see it won't fit but I am thinking how much he hates to have me nitpick him when he is helping me. I see the thread spindle poking up and think, "That is not gonna fit but surely he sees that..." when POP off it breaks.

Now, I really love my husband. Let me say again, I REALLY LOVE MY HUSBAND....so I walk away to try not to cry and/or say something.

I see that he has now gone to get superglue to put on my Husqvarna machine. Tightly I say, "that will not work. Trust me that won't do."

We look for some garb our "weeds" have not outgrown, he says, "You know I would not have done anything to add to your stress if I could help it..."

I go and hug him and say something about how I know it was to save me from having to sew.

17 years....I guess our lesson learned is to walk away until you can be amused. Luckily that doesn't take long around here.