My DH, just like everyone in the world, has his own set of quirks. There are things about him that will never change and I've come to terms with that. He can, however, learn....and several years ago he learned that when he gave his wife flowers, his life was a lot easier. He can also extrapolate, and he figured out that if he contacted the florist at the first of the year and arranged to have flowers sent to his wife every so often, not only would his wife be happy, but he wouldn't have to remember to get the flowers himself on a regular basis. He also figured out that if he picked up the delivery schedule during hunting season, it saved him a lot of grief. He's not terribly fussy about what kind of flowers turn up in the arrangements, just that they get delivered.
As part of his yearly discussion with the florist, he schedules a centerpiece for Thanksgiving and one for Christmas. Now, tell me, how many men who carry a gun and eat lots of wild game would think of that? So yesterday the doorbell rang. It was the little flower delivery man. He and I are pals because, well, I see him fairly regularly. He had the Christmas centerpiece.

LS Boy looked at it and smiled. It's a little different than others I've gotten. Never had those golden angels playing musical instruments before. DH got home and saw it. His assessment....."Wow...that's pretty.....fancy." Yep, we have rococo cherubs who are going to watch us eat Christmas dinner, and maybe provide us with imaginary dinner music, and I'm totally OK with that....because with every flower delivery comes this:

I love him, too.
But I do have this strange urge to gold-leaf the ceiling.