So. In church on Sunday I was asked to read out a passage about the value of love (I Corinthians 13:1-13). I read it with aplomb, and managed to resist the urge to make a snarky comment about how it suits me. I don't think my grandparents would appreciate finding out that I write about sex on a regular basis, although they manage to sit through numerous pantomime rehearsals in which I, as a woodcutter, make consistent references to the size of my chopper. Grandparents are weird.
The Bible is oddly prophetic about many things, but this was proven once again to me when, with the comment about love being the greatest of all virtues in mind, it was once again right when the day afterwards saw a snowfall happen RIGHT OUTSIDE MY HOUSE (and a few hundred others too, but they aren't important). The previous evening, I'd managed to diffuse an angry situation by cooking pasta, but on Monday itself, one just couldn't be angry if one had even tried. It may be cold and wet, but dammit, it's pretty stuff, snow. Especially when it's unspoiled and undisturbed. Our garden is still covered with the stuff, and my next-door neighbour's garden is untouched (he has died recently) so it looks pristine, just like it's a white blanket of snow covering the world like...
..a snow blanket that's really...
- We stood and looked out of the window. Together. For a few hours. We just stood there cuddling and watched the snow. And that was our morning's activity. Standing. And. Watching. Snow.
- In the afternoon, we decided to go and see Slumdog Millionaire (actually, my parents decided for us, but we've already seen Milk and we didn't need much further persuasion), which meant walking about about 50 minutes on compacted snow. Ice. So we held hands, and held each other up.
- The evening saw me going to rehearsal and her going back to Oxford. I took her to Paddington and then made the hour-long journey back home to go to rehearsal. In this time, she returned from Oxford to go to an interview of sorts (you'll need to ask her about this), and I was so keen to get home to see her, I took a black London taxi home from rehearsal and spent about £5 on it.
- And then this morning, we went into London together so she could go to the interview, I hung around to see what happened, and when it all came back generally positive, we had lots of hugs and a celebratory lunch.
You see, they're all very ordinary things when you look at them individually, but when you think about it, all this stuff happened in the space of a couple of days. This isn't mentioning the constant battle wth various work situations where we're either supposed to be somewhere or not, and of course the fact that we needed food and suchandsuch. Without a devotion, very little of this would have happened. There'd have been no drive to spend an extra day together, no effort in making food or even going places (who knows how the journey to the interview may have gone were I not there to offer my slightly fae 'advice'?), no helping hand on the ice, no point to an otherwise potentially boring snow day or two, without the devotion that comes with love.
And so there you have it.
And now to start planning our Valentine's holiday...