Look what was waiting for me on the kitchen table on Thursday morning:
Red roses, truffle chocolates, pink sparkly, and my favourite - the CD which I have been desperately waiting for ever since I saw the film last year. In fact, just on Tuesday I'd seen it advertised on the TV and asked Mr. Bloom to pop out to Tesco to get it for me. Poor man had to make an unnecessary trip then come home and tell me it was out-of-stock, because in fact he had already bought it for Valentines day. Mr. Bloom is good at storing away snippets of information about things I like. I have to be careful what I say sometimes though, that's how I ended up getting a Lilly Allen CD for Christmas.
Anyway, ever-thoughtful, along with my gifts, Mr. Bloom had left this magazine cutting on the table. It made me smile.
I don't really write about family and friends on my blog, though I love them dearly, it's not what this blog is intended to be. I do mention Mr. Bloom sometimes in a jokey sort of way, but I wanted to write just one post to let him know how much I appreciate having him in my life.
After all it's not always easy living with a crafty vintage-loving girl, who is intent on adorning every possible surface in flowers...
(including Mr. Bloom's alarm clock)
Someone who covers the kitchen worktops and table with her crafting activities, so that most usually we have to eat our dinner off our laps.
An ever so slightly mad woman who lately has taken to photographing anything and everything and spends hours sitting at the computer doing who knows what, and when he asks her what she is doing, says "nothing".
Who issues strict instructions about which soap, flannel and towels he can and cannot use.
And insists, whenever we have a day out anywhere, on going into every single charity and junk shop... and drags him out of bed at some unearthly hour on a Sunday morning to go to the car boot sale, when all he wants to do is have a lie-in, just so she can buy more 'stuff' which he then has to carry around while she looks for even more 'stuff' (but he does get to have a bacon butty).
Thank You Mr. Bloom for putting up with me.
I'm sorry about the scratches on your car when we were trying to load that wicker chair I bought at the car boot last summer,
...and that you can never open your wardrobe because there's too much stuff and not enough house,
...and the times you've tripped over the furniture when you've come home late at night from work and I've been re-arranging...
I know I don't tell you very often but I really would be lost without you.
I know this will ring true (and it's probably been said before, but not by me!) with many a vintage-loving girl and their long-suffering other halves, we carry on doing it and they carry on loving us anyway!
So, the roses were arranged in a vase with sugar and a drop of bleach, their stems carefully snipped on the diagonal, and I've been changing the water every day.
Oh yes, do you see that picture propped up on the table - if you are reading this Mr. Bloom, I'm still waiting for you to hang it up...