I know that many of you are asking “Well…what happened on Valentine’s Day?”. Another question is “Did Mr. C. Cow achieve a successful showing of love without making things explode?”. I would like to inform all of you that nothing exploded. For those of you that are disappointed in no detonations I would like to educate you with the knowledge that a marshmallow exploded in a microwave will not only increase in size but catch on fire. I would fill you in on the details of this mishap but it’s for another day. (Also…Mr. C. Cow is not over the trauma of combustible marshmallows.)
Everything went exceedingly well this year. I was majorly distressed that he might go overboard with such items as paper heart drops from the sky (paper cut danger zone), hiring a professional flame baton dancing ostrich (seriously….fire hazard), or going low-key (in his mind) and covering our equipment companies scissor lift in chocolate. My anxiety was not (finally) needed and things were fantastic.
There was a real picnic blanket that was not the sheet taken off of one of our beds. The only thing that was on fire was the spicy jalapeño appetizer Mr. C. Cow created. Instead of anything involving mayhem, explosions, and general confusion we were treated to wine, cheese, and an amazing view. Mr. C. Cow not only showed his love but he managed to show it successfully without any injury to individual or property. I call this a love win!
We shouldn’t take one day to show the love we have to others. As a family unit we tell each other each day that we care. Mr. C. Cow lets us know he is devoted to his clan by showing us an incredible day. No fires. No explosions to put out. No mess.
Happy Valentine’s Day From All Of Us At “Postcards From Tipsy”!!
It’s almost time for Mr. C. Cow to pull off his “love mission” to show his family appreciation. As he was decorating a picnic area I started to worry when he started pulling out the balloons. Visions of a billion balloons popping in harmony over dinner started going through my mind. Before I could cower at the thought he only used a few to set the “mood”. Your entire families ear drums thank you Mr. C.!
It’s almost time for our Valentine party so I must go and get ready for his picnic (not too many balloons) love party. I’ll let you all know how it goes tomorrow.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
SL photo taken by me
If you would like to read about why balloons are a sore spot then please check out yesterday’s postcard “Mission: Love” for all of the (loud) details.
Valentine’s day is tomorrow and Mr. C. Cow is on a “mission of love”. When I say “mission of love”, I’m talking about showering friends and family with over-the-top gifts of fondness. Last year he set up a million heart-shaped balloon drop from the equipment company ceiling when Bishop walked into work. This proved to be less of an emotional showcase of caring and more of a loud balloon popping mess. Not only were there not nearly a million heart shaped balloons, they started exploding into a fury of noise when they would hit the equipment.
Bulldozer + Balloon = Kerplow
Forklift + Balloon = Kablooooeee
After the melee was over we only had to calm Bishop down, clean up popped balloons, and fix the forklift. If you don’t understand how a balloon can screw up a forklift then you’ve never had one pop in an engine compartment.
This year I’m helping Mr. C. Cow scale down his appreciation display into something more manageable. After debating the pros and cons of a million doves holding Valentine’s in their beaks, we settled on a family picnic. We’ll take the camper out to an enchanting location, pack something delicious, and have fun together. No loud, exploding decorations, no broken forklifts, no angry polar bears named Bishop.
Mr. C. Cow is attempting to pack an entire fifty layer red velvet cake in the picnic basket. I’m trying to explain that this is something we like to call “overkill” but he’s not buying it. He keeps mumbling something about “not killing a cake” and “How does one overkill cake?”. I’ll let you know on Valentine’s day if our plan of keeping it amour simple goes off without a hitch.
The 4th of July is coming up in the states next week and it’s going to be a busy one. We’ll all be at home and Mr. C. Cow and I plan on doing a lot of cooking. He’s been pouring over cookbooks for the perfect deserts to go with grilled veggies while I’m trying to figure out how to light the grill. I’ve used a gas grill before but it’s been YEARS since I’ve attempted to use charcoal. Bishop might have to be in charge of the grill lighting. I’m afraid I’ll catch my giant beehive on fire.
Speaking of fire, we’re planning on letting Marslean handle the fireworks this year. Last year Mr. C. Cow was holding a sparkler and got a teeny tiny little burn on his hoof. It was so tiny that it probably hurt for a second. Despite the small injury, Mr. C. acted like his entire leg had caught on fire. We had to wrap all of his legs in gauze just to get him to stop crying. Marslean said there will be no sparklers this year. I think that’s a wise decision.
Since everyone seems to have a job to do to get ready for the holiday I’m at a loss as to where I am needed. I tried to move the picnic table in the shade but it was too big and heavy. Bishop and Mr. C. Cow had to move them around. I was going to get the nice tablecloth and place mats out but Marslean beat me to it. The only thing I’ve done so far is that awesome table centerpiece.
Mr. C. Cow sensed the lost look on my face and offered to let me help him do a bit of baking. I would but he’s really good at it. He can lay down a good fondant on a cake while I find myself tangled up in it like some sort of sugary trap. After a few minutes of sitting under a tree with a therapeutic martini, I decided that I am taking on the appetizers. I can crostini like a boss.
Sometimes we feel left out because we think our skills aren’t useful. It might take a martini rest under a tree before we find out that we are useful. All of us have something to offer.
All photos taken in Second Life at my personal home by me.
Mr. C. Cow and I stopped the other day to picnic. While I was picking up after we had finished our dining I caught Mr. C. trying to feed a sandwich to a bear shaped shrub.
Why in the world was Mr. C. Cow trying to feed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to a shrub? I know it’s shaped like a bear but it’s not like the shrub actually needed a sandwich. When I asked him I was informed that he felt it got tired of always being on the “photosynthesis diet” and needed a bit of variety. That both makes sense and no sense at the same time. I got Mr. C. to stop attempting to stuff a pb&j into a bear shrub and finish his lunch.
The attempt at feeding a plant a sandwich got me thinking about how, sometimes, our brains go to silly places when we look at certain things. Take this train warning sign for example:
Do trains bite? Do they sneak up behind you and attempt to steal your purse if you’re not careful? Are the trains hanging out with the “bad crowd” and throwing dice in back alleys?
Thinking about trains in the sense of being criminals instead of the obvious “don’t play on train tracks or you’ll get squished” is kinda fun. Not as much fun as feeding plants picnic food (according to Mr. C. Cow) but fun anyways.
I never know what Mr. C. Cow is going to do when we stop the camper sometimes. One moment he might be spouting philosophy to passing ducks than attempting to use a sled on a playground slide for “maximum speed” the next.
I must say he is NEVER boring and does, on occasion, get my imagination pumped up as well!
I want to give a shout-out to my friend Ramblingal Bun for pointing out this location for us to visit! She owns a store called “Classic Accessories” that is located at the Hodby Village. Check it out if you’re passing by!
(Not a paid endorsement for the store. Just want to give some love for sharing this nice location for postcards!)
Mr. C. Cow made a new friend today when we stopped on the side of the road for a picnic. Not one to be on the shy side he just moo-ved on over to the cow pasture fence and struck up with conversation with a lovely cow named Ms. Asturian. They both discovered that they had gone to the same University. The world is such a small place!
While Mr. C. Cow was catching up on old times by singing the school song I sat down next to the water and ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A bird came by for a drink of water, said howdy, and flew off. It’s a bit lonely eating your pb&j all by yourself.
After my cow pal said goodbye to Ms. Asturian and promised to write (You’ve never lived till you’ve seen a cow hold a pen or lick a stamp) we set back off down the road. I’m glad I have Mr. C. Cow with me. Eating one sandwich alone isn’t fun. Having to do it all the time would be terrible.