It’s slightly past Valentine’s Day, but one particular year with my husband of thirty-six years lingers in my mind (or rather, my nose.) As we writers know, the sense of smell is a strong memory trigger. One Valentine’s days, the “Rubberband Man” surprised me with the ultimate gift: scented pencils.
Valentine’s Day is merely one day out of the year, which sounds a little sacrilegious for a romance author to say. But it’s not just the flowers and candy that say “I love you,” it’s the day-to-day kindnesses and simple touches that make a marriage glow through the years. For example: If hubby knows I had a late night writing, he brings me a cup of coffee in bed. it’s just a few extra steps, but it means the world to me. Or, he might fill my car up on the weekend. It lets me know he was thinking of me, and I appreciate it.
“The Rubberband Man” is one of the best-natured people I’ve ever met. He’s even tempered, cheerful and positive, and hardly even says the word, “hate.” Except for pencils. He hates pencils. Why? In his words, pencils are messy, they leave curly rubber poop everywhere, and they should be banned.
The thing is, I love pencils. They have erasers; they allow for mistakes, they are forgiving. If I want to pull his chain, which I confess, sometimes I do, I’ll leave several pencils on his desk and watch the fireworks.
That’s why, one morning on Valentine’s Day, he totally surprised me: when I sat down at my desk I found a case of…wait for it…Scented Pencils. What could be better than combining pencils with scents, resulting in a nerdy kind of nirvana- a nerdvana- for hardcore pencil lover? I’d never heard of them, but I fell immediately in love. Such flavors as fruit punch, raspberry, and even …whoa…root beer wafted from the exalted pencil lead! The root beer scent took me back to my childhood and reminded me of when my dad used to make homemade root beer. I will always remember that Valentine’s Day as the day Hubby made the ultimate sacrifice. Even though he despised pencils above all else, he gave them to me anyway, because I loved them.
It’s truly the little things (with scented erasers on top) that matter.
The song for this blog is Barry Manilow’s “I Write the Songs,” just because his songs are something else Hubby….doesn’t like.
I’m sure glad he likes me.
She spent her childhood running wild on an Idaho mountainside. Although she’s lived across the U.S., she is still an Idahoan at heart and a notorious potato pusher. She has a degree in Human Services and worked as a roofer, a hoofer, a computer data entry operator and a stay-at-home mom.
Music has ruled Jennifer’s world since birth. She shimmied out of the womb with a bad case of Boogie Fever, but soon fell in love with the lyrics, how the words fit together perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle. Jennifer has dreamt of writing romances since reading Wuthering Heights at the tender age of twelve, and now lives that dream, using music on a daily basis to uplift and inspire her writing. It’s no coincidence that Ian, the hero in Mercy of the Moon, uses music to win heroine Maggie’s heart.
She lives in rural Florida with her husband and Great Dane puppy, and enjoys frequent visits from her three grandchildren and three grown children. She feverishly lobbies for the return of breeches and would really love to see her husband of thirty-five years in a pair. Jennifer can be found online at: JenniferTaylorWrites.com