Knock me down with a feather.

In the past I've whined and complained about things like mother's day and my birthday. Not worth the angst and disappointment they cause. Perhaps it's my husbands new reading material (this journal), perhaps he turned a new leaf or who the heck knows what happened but it was a holiday yesterday. And I was asked what I'd like to do for the day. And I got presents.

Now, I did in fact answer that what I wanted to do was finish my laundry and work in the garden and he could go to his movie like normal, but it was all so unexpected. Hubs gave me a book, next in a series by a writer that I read. One I haven't bought yet because it's a hardback. Then while I was down doing battle with the wild rose infestation, I heard Rocky the neighbor dog do his stranger bark. Since the boy was alone in the house I headed up the hill to see. It was flowers! For me!

I guess I should have had a hint of things to come when the boys went to the street fair on Saturday and came back with hair cuts too. And I didn't even ask them to.

So it was a great day. I finished my chores. I had a long commune with mother nature. I got a pressie and flowers. There was chinese takeout for dinner. Plus the Survivor finale in the evening. Too bad I hated the final two contestants.