My Valentine

I am married to lady who is full of awesome sauce.

If you've met her, you already know this, but if you need further evidence, take a look at this week's latest variation on  a theme:


That there is my Valentine's Day present, a copy of the long out-of-print book of Norse mythology written and illustrated by Ingri and Edgar Parin d'Aaulaire. When I snagged it in the Glenwood Elementary School library sometime around 1971, it was called D'Aulaires' Norse Gods and Giants, and I devoured it just the way I had devoured their earlier work, D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths. My appetite for folk tales and mythology was enormous in those days, and led to my eventual feasting in the realms of heroic fantasy, science fiction, and even such respectable literary works as Beowulf and Antigone. Obviously, once I had children of my own, it took me very little time to rush out and secure for them a copy of the d'Aulaires' Greek book, with many words of rapturous description for Kelly about how much the kids would love their stuff.

But the Norse book? Out of print.

Dejected, I started searching for used copies. Most seemed to be running about 75 bucks, which is a bit pricey for something you're going to put in the mysteriously sticky hands of a four-year-old. I sighed and resigned myself to tracking down other versions of the Norse stories, many of which turned up in places like Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics.

But, as I said, I am married to a woman full of awesome sauce. This became apparent last night when she handed me the package she'd been awaiting in the mail for weeks. It's a brand-new hardback copy of the now-retitled D'Aulaires Book of Norse Myths (had it not been retitled, her mad catalogue skillz would probably have brought it to me some years earlier) back in print and now in its fifth edition, and it features the not-inconsiderable attraction  of an introduction by Michael Chabon, who like me first came across the book in the early seventies at an impressionable age and was sent off into the realms of Marvel comics and various other bits of modern mythology before starting to work out his own.

Sure, maybe tales about the world being licked into being out of a patch of salty ice or wolves biting off gods' hands or deceitful demigods giving birth to eight-legged horses may not strike YOU as terribly romantic, but if there's one thing I've learned in over two decades of marriage, it's that love is idiosyncratic. Thank the gods for that.

So, with a second box of Quisp from Food Lion already dispatched, I will be taking this opportunity to tell the world that my wife is wonderful and I'm taking her out for a romantic breakfast at IHOP and a matinee of The Wolfman.

Happy Hearts to all of you. But no, you don't get to marry her.

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This page contains a single entry by Peter Cashwell published on February 14, 2010 10:42 AM.

Holy Quap! was the previous entry in this blog.

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