I fell in love again

An old saying more or less defines my life: “What we learn from history is that we don’t learn from history.”

When I was younger, I assumed that the older I got, the smarter I would get. I have not achieved that at this point in my life. It becomes so tedious to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.

However, I hope this changes at some point in my life. I hope it changes before I die.

I was reminded of this flaw in my personality several weeks ago when the Gracious Mistress of the Parish and I spent a little vacation time in St. Augustine. Someone had given us tickets for several nights at a bed and breakfast.

We spent the whole week just having fun. However, you should correct that. I spent the whole week reading and meditating with my eyes closed.

The other side of our relationship went to all the thrift stores in the area. He would leave right after breakfast, stop for lunch, and then spend the rest of the day until dinner time hopping from one thrift store to another. How he can do this for days is beyond my wildest dream.

Several times she asked me if I wanted to go with her, but I declined this kind invitation. I remember the last time I accepted that offer and we went from one thrift store to another. They all started to look alike after a while.

It only takes me five minutes to peruse the thrift store, while my wife takes two hours to go through, step by step, every aspect of that thrift store. Every thrift store in the area knows her by name by now.

I, the laziest part of the marital equation, want to stay in our room and just relax. I am as addicted to relaxation as my wife is addicted to thrift store shopping. I’m not sure who suffers from the worst addiction.

To be honest, she has gotten a lot of wonderful deals at some of these thrift stores. Whenever we need something, she knows exactly which thrift store to go to and can haggle all the way down. How they make money from her purchases, I don’t know.

From time to time I suffer from this horrible nightmare. I wake up sweating and breathing very hard.

The nightmare is that we have opened our own thrift store. No dream can be worse than that!

I never tell him these nightmares because I don’t want to plant any ideas in his head. I lean strictly away from that idea.

Despite all this, I still haven’t been able to learn anything from history.

My wife had spent most of the day visiting these thrift stores and also buying things from these thrift stores, and she had come home and had a little dinner in our room. I assumed we would be at night.

I wish I knew when to keep my mouth shut. As we were finishing our informal dinner, I said something that I now deeply regret. I said, “Wow, it sure would be nice to have one of those lap desks so I can use my computer while I’m sitting here in bed.”

I didn’t mean this to be a point of contention, just a casual observation, that’s all.

So I went a step further. “Have you ever seen any portable desks in the thrift stores you visit?”

If there’s anything I could take back in my life, this would have been one of them. I didn’t know how serious the topic was.

“I don’t know,” he said enthusiastically, “but I’ll go and find out for sure…”

Before he could say the word “now”, he was out the door and slammed it shut. The rest of the night she was visiting thrift stores all over the place. She was afraid, very afraid, that she would actually find one and bring it back.

I guess they’re in thrift stores somewhere. But I only said it as a passing conversation.

Four hours later, she came back and she was so excited. She had found something that she had been looking for for a long time. It was a very eloquent teapot with 6 cups and saucers.

“Look what I found,” she said excitedly. “I’ve been looking for this and we can use it in our next lady’s tea.” According to her, this tea set matches the one she had at home. She was so excited about it.

She wouldn’t say anything, but I think she forgot why she went to thrift stores in the first place. Now I’ve learned something of history, and that’s not to remind her of the portable desk she was looking for. To this day, I have never mentioned it.

I like what the wise old man said in the Bible: “A time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to be silent, and a time to speak” (Ecclesiastes 3:7).

There is a time to “keep quiet” and it is a wise man who knows when. Maybe that’s why people say that silence is golden.