The day after the moonflowers blooming, I arrived on my bicycle as usual, with a feeling of trepidation and anticipation. I knew that something had passed from Husband’s hand to mine in that brief moment but I didn’t know what it was exactly.
I got Inna up and brought her favourite breakfast to her bedside. She sat up on the edge of her bed and took the bowl of Cornflakes, sliced banana, cream and sugar, gave me a smile and called me ‘Darling’ for the first time. By this time I had been working for her for around two months and I had determined myself to love her no matter what because, you see, she was very impatient with my ineptitude and often rather gruff so I think I saw our relationship as a sort of challenge. It wasn’t a very difficult challenge because I adored her and she fascinated me. So, when she called me ‘Darling’ I was elated and grinned my way back to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Husband and the men.
It was wonderful to finally feel accepted by Inna, and, bright with confidence, I put the frypan onto the Aga, filled it with water and began the egg poaching. Then I put the toast into the automatic toaster, turning it up a little so it would toast faster. I wanted to have breakfast ready before Husband came in from milking; I wanted to have it all beautiful and perfect.
When Inna called me to get her up and dressed, I ran in to help her, forgetting about the toast, so, by the time Husband and the men entered the kitchen, there was quite a lot of smoke around the unpredictable toaster and the burning smell filled the small house quickly. But I didn’t smell it because I was so busy with Inna.
So, when I heard Husband’s voice, booming “Jules!” I left Inna partially dressed and raced back into the kitchen, thinking maybe, just maybe, Husband had picked me one of the moonflowers.
Instead, he picked up the burnt toast and said, nastily, “You are bloody hopeless!”
jmgoyder 
Always a pleasure to read your interesting blog. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
Thanks for reading it!
I still continue to love this story.
Ah, yes. True love.
I really enjoy your side story of how your love and relationship with Inna developed.
She was the best!
Men! I burned our Sunday duck. He asked if I wanted a divorce. ~ Men!
Oh too funny but not!
Oh dear…
~ Lynda
Mmmm!
LOL! Can see this scene in the movie as well. You need to consider which actress gets to play Jules (and husband and Ina of course)…. Adore your story!
You can be the actress!
This is great stuff. Someday you have to turn this into a book!
Good idea!
I so agree – a series of short stories. What a gift it would be for your family and the rest of the world. Love isn’t perfect but it is consistant, enduring…..
Thanks for the encouragement!
This is why writers write, so that someday they can look back on what they wrote and rediscover the emotions and words of a time of triumph or tribulation. Good job, Julie.
Thanks Randy!
Why thank you, kind sir!
ouch! just can’t please all the people all the time. loving the story.
oh good idea from Robyn!
Oh no! Those are difficult words to hear.
sorry about the burnt toast, but this blog was rather funny. i could picture it all
Stop laughing – haha!
Delicious read!
If it wouldn’t have been the toast it would have been something else. As you had been reveling in the wonder of that brief hand holding, he had been having second thoughts.
Exactly!
Guess this is one of those times when you just have to full-heartedly embrace the old saying, “You can’t win ’em all”!!! ♥
I agree that this would make a great book
This is encouraging – thank you!
Definitely a book and a movie …well done ewe………
Ewe too!
Sounds like your husband was a challenge too, just like his mother.
Absolutely!
I did too 🙂 in my earlier years… Made me smile once again. Inna was so nice, Thank you dear Julie, how nice to read your stories… You should make them a book… These are so precious. Love, nia
Your comments make my day!
Hmmmmm.
Well, I suppose if he HAD kissed you next to the moonflower the night before, you would have been more stary-eyed and the frypan would have been burnt as black as the toast, so perhaps it was just as well he didn’t.
In fact, perhaps it was just as well he didn’t kiss you for a long time. I think ‘years’ of burnt toast would not have endeared you to Husband at all.
They say the way to a Man’s heart is through his Stomach – expecially Farmer’s Hearts.
Victoria, I really think you should be writing this – not me – hehe! Juliex
That’s so funny … love it!
I agree that this would make a wonderful movie!
So do you have Hollywood contacts?
Gruff mom, gruff son! I can’t wait to read what made your husband see the light and fall in love with you. It seems like a miracle happened, or you just bonked him on the head really hard with a frying pan.
Ha! You are exactly right with the gruff mom + son.
Love it Jules, you have a way of writing that puts me right there, you really should consider putting it into a novel or something….I kinda know how the story ends, but sure like getting there….So did you konk him with burnt toast? can’t wait for the next chapter!!!!
Thanks Jo!!
Your writing is so entertaining, Julie – I am so enjoying your story
Thanks!
On this theme, here’s a poem by another talented blogger that you might enjoy
Thanks – just checked it out and subscribed!
Ha! I thing he was mad because he liked you 🙂
I think so too!