23 november 1999

I read and occasionally post to a newsgroup called alt.callahans, which is based on the Callahan's Crosstime Saloon novels by Spider Robinson. On Monday, I decided to make a toast about what happened this weekend.

The evening breeze blows a few dead leaves through the door as the little bear from New England enters, pushing her hair out of her face. Tasha ponies up a dollar and tosses it to the burly barkeep. "A Sam Adams Boston Ale, please, Mike."

Stepping up to the chalk line, she turns to look at the assembled Patrons, her face aglow. "It's been a busy weekend, folx. My sweetheart Iain and I walked around Home Depot, cruised the aisles of Wal-Mart, and got claustrophobic at Michael's Arts and Crafts, and here's what we have to show for it:

"A new etagere in the bathroom (think of a cabinet-ish thing over the toilet... that's an etagere),

"A new shelf in the living room, over the TV, where now resides our collection of chotchkies, including my two bear figurines and my Playmobil Russian Family set, complete with dancing bear, and

"A Shaker peg rack in the entry way."

She takes a deep draught of her beer and licks the foam off her lip. "Why is this toast-worthy? Because these little things are what is making this new apartment a home for me and Iain. Because he stained the shelves himself, put them up himself, and did it for me, because I wanted them."

She smiles wistfully at her beer, then looks up at the Patrons, her eyes shining. "Last night, when he took me out to the entry to show me the new peg rack he put up, I told him how much I loved it, and his eyes actually welled up. This is the guy I was so angry at for a while, whose ambition I doubted, who has lived with me after only knowing one another for a few weeks. For the first six weeks, we lived with my parents... if we can live through that kind of stress, we can live through anything."

"He just got a new contract job, but it's third shift, and he'll be a road warrior after the Boston portion of the job is done. He'll be out two weeks, back for a weekend, out two weeks, back for a weekend... It's going to be rough. But he'll be making (for us) an insane amount of money, enough to push any money trouble to the back burner, at least for a while. He says he's doing it for us."

"So here's my toast: to a man who is giving up so much to provide for the woman he loves, who will work all night and sleep all day to spend the evenings with her, and who spent the last full weekend they'll have together for six months staining and nailing and putting up shelves for her, for no other reason than 'she wanted them.'

"To the love of my life, Jon McQuarrie, sometimes known as Iain mac Guadhre of Ulva, and to the shelves he put up for me, because I wanted them."

Finishing off the ale with a great long pull that leaves her breathless, Tasha spins on her toe and lets fly with a long throw from center field...

>>>>>>CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAASH<<<<<<