Friday, March 28, 2008


My husband, Brandon, got a guitar from his parents for his 21st birthday. It's kind of a tradition in his family: all the men play guitar. And when we all get together, they pull their guitars out of their cases and take turns playing. Sometimes we just listen, sometimes we all sing along. Copious amounts of alcohol are consumed, and a great time is had by all.

Well, when he first got the guitar, he played it a lot. He hadn't learned to play prior to that, but he learned fast. Then, after about a year or so, he seemed to get bored with it. It was disappointing but what could I do? So I just mentally shrugged every time I walked past the dusty case and went about my business.

Until we got here. I guess that there is less to occupy him here, or maybe he's just feeling homesick. But whatever the reason, he's picked that guitar back up and has been playing it almost every evening. And I get my very own concert. :)

It usually happens that he's in the next room, sitting at his desk with the music spread out in front of him, and the guitar across his lap. And I will be here, at my computer, grinning like an idiot while he plays. It's cute... He knows what my favorite songs are, and he always saves them for last. It's nothing big, and it probably seems silly to everyone but me, but it's a nightly ritual that I absolutely love.

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