Last week was not one of the best weeks of my life. I'll admit it, I am not good at being alone and I was very jealous that Bill was going to be in San Francisco for 8 days. Nevermind that I could have gone out and met him during the week (in hind sight it was a good thing I didn't do that because of a family members funeral).
Anyway...... Bill got home on Saturday late afternoon and I was so happy to see him. Just coming from the funeral of my 39 year old cousins' husband makes you really think about how precious life is. One minute he was here and the next she couldn't wake him up. So after lots of hugs, the unpacking began. One thing was more thoughtful than the next....... Of course there was the wine, then chocolate filled with wine, French crafted chocolate, wine, pizza from the place on Haight next to the Toronado, wine, an enchilada from Rutherford Grill (probably the best thing I have ever eaten!) , and then the best thing (which had a whole story behind it, but I wouldn't find that out until later)..... Mustard. Not in a jar, but the kind picked right out of the ground.
Bill knows how much I love the sea of yellow mustard blooming in the late winter in Napa Valley. The vines are dormant, but the Mustard is running rampant. It's a sign of spring, a sign that as much as things change, things stay the same. The vines will produce a totally different wine than the previous harvest, but that mustard is always going to be there. Tall, yellow, and aromatic.
We went to dinner at the Beach Club and I felt like I felt when Bill and I decided that we would work on another aspect of our friendship 7 years ago..... when we decided we were falling in love. I just wanted to be near him, we talked, laughed, and ate. About half-way through our entrees-ribeye and prawns for Bill, gnocci in pea sauce w/prosciutto and sundried tomato for me, he says to me...."OK, do you really want to hear a really stupid story about my trip?" Well, a womans mind can wonder, so right away my wheels are turning. What did he do? Crash the rental car? Go to a strip bar? I knew that was probably not it since he is so anti-strip bar. Lose something? So begins the story of why I am married to one of the most kind hearted people I know.
Knowing how much I love the way the fields of mustard look and that I'd love to recreate it in our backyard, Bill decides that instead of expensive roses or weird colored carnations, he is going to bring me a bouquet of mustard home as my Valentine's Day flowers. He sees some mustard growing along the road in Napa, nevermind that it was probably at every winery he visited, and he pulls over. The road is a 2 lane road and he is on the berm, but it is not very wide. He leaves the car running and gets out. Not wanting the door to stick out into the road, he closes it. I can't quit reproduce the sound of a car door lock clinking into place, but just imagine the sinking feeling. You get out of the car to do something special for your wife and like Fort Knox your rental car is now impenetrable.
Enter AAA. The best money you can spend for peace of mind. Luckily the 1 AAA approved garage in the area was out on a service call and was going to be coming Bill's way...... in about an hour. I wonder what Bill contemplated as he sat on the bumper of the rental mini-van? Was he angry at me? Himself? Chrysler? I'm sure he was thinking that there was a big glass of wine waiting for him somewhere. What I'm thinking is that I married a man who is thoughtful, kind, and loving. A man that would stop on the side of the road to pick a weed for his wife. A man that would wrap that weed in wet paper towels, go to the grocery and buy plastic bags, have the hotel deep freeze my food treats, and then carry it all 2168 miles home.
A man that cuts the mustard and defines what a good guy is.
