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This is a photo of the first present my husband gave me after our wedding. We had been married about eight weeks when he came back from the shops with the groceries a newspaper and a bottle of Fizz.

After he unpacked everything onto the work top he plunged his hand into his trouser pocket and handed me this. Yes a potato, a heart shaped potato and said. “I couldn’t leave it in the greengrocers  once I found it. it just reminded me of you.” We laughed at his words and joked that I looked like a potato, but honestly it was bloody romantic the most romantic my husband could get.

He is not a man of big romantic presentations, he could not gush if he tried. The husband, as I refer to him on my Blog is spontaneous, some might say impulsive, I say he is just simply kind. He said, he did not think a potato could label him romantic. That he would never be accused of being soppy or a sap but this gift though long since gone rotten and recycled to a better place in the compost, will always be first in my memory for the gift that needed no reason. The gift that meant the whole world, it didn’t cost him a penny but took guts to ask for it, and courage to give it to me.

My man has few words of the romantic kind, neither a poem, sonnet or rhyme, would ever pause on his tongue. No love letters will be received but my heart shaped potato is the most significant measure of his love for me.

What a pair.

Have you ever had an extraordinarily odd but perfect gift? Leave your answer in the comments I am dying to see what it is.

The most romantic gestures arrive from the simplest of moments.

She Was Small But She Was Fierce “Where did I Go”?

“Sometimes I wonder how we did the things we did.
A smaller version of me climbed trees to scrump apples, ran so fast the wind couldn’t ruffle my hair, made a collage, painted a scene; art fit for a gallery. Was it me at all?”

Others built warships from balsa wood, and painted soldiers ruby red, danced with satin laced shoes and some learned needlepoint, or pricked seams to craft a frock.
Boys with hair grips showed us how to pick a lock. Riding the handlebars of wonky wheeled bikes, proud on a stage with squealing mic’s that didn’t spoil what I would sing or say, that self took it in her stride and did it anyway.

I championed the underdog and put playground bullies in their place; mostly with my tongue, because in my head it was the right thing to do. After such a scene I’d maybe come off worse and cry like a sop, but I’d get up with a skip and a hop and carry on undeterred, lesson learned but sometimes a gentle soul saved.

Mostly I have done what I thought was right, at least in the guise of my smaller self I believe I did. My need to talk and tell a tale stayed as did the ability to hold time still with words. My wordy thing didn’t escape nor the tears, the ones that flow shamelessly at a nasty word, or a sad film, or brought on by the pages of a book. I was and am a crier it is the part of me that exposes my underbelly.

“When did the courage to leap dissipate? When did I begin to hesitate, or worry what other people thought?” I am still that girl, I am older, taller (not much) heavier than I once was, which I suppose slows your pace. Now i have wisdom on my side, but I think it through first and the moment has gone. I wonder what others would think if I gave him a piece of my mind … the boy who kicked his Mother in the supermarket, or the teenagers shoving a child at the bus stop. When did the fear of me being hurt get in the way of what I know was the right thing to do? These hesitations, or lack of finishing, the things that once you would not have given a second thought to; they bother me.

This was inspired by Writers qoute Wednesday Thank you Ronovon and Coleen
Please do visit and read other interpretations of wisdom press to do so thank you.

My Shakespeare Quote made me think outside of the norm I really hope you like it.

We grow and allow insecurities and media hype get in the way of what was seen once as ” putting someone in their place.” We had an unspoken respect for people, those who without violence pulled you up, put you right. We are a society of people scared to use freedom of speech, we turn the other cheek, don’t look it will go away. I want to be that fearless girl, who takes a knock or two for standing up for others. I want my smaller fearless self back.

This post, some would say is the indulgent outpourings of my mind, and on that note I don’t expect much in the way of responses but if you do… if you feel, we as individuals have left something behind; along with our childhoods, and you like me wish it hadn’t gone; then tell me. Or maybe I am… the only one?

Picture was loaned from pixaby. Thank you a free resource that is greatly appreciated.