A Winner and the H Word.

First—Congratulations to Jane! You’ve won last week’s prize week!

*pretends you knocked on my door* “Trick-or-Treat!”

Jane, you’ve won some fantabulous candy and a book! (I hesitate to say which one, because I have a few in mind, but wal-mart can be really weird with their stocking sometimes. I want to make sure I can get it before I commit) Send me your snail mail address :

Keriford @ hotmail.com (no spaces)

On to the blog today which is terribly late, I know. What can I say, me mind, it is lacking in the memory sometimes (say that sentence again, but say it with a fun accent. That’s how I imagined it when I wrote it).

So. The H word.

You see, it went like this. I mentioned to the husband that now that he was back to working four days a week (overtime is finally over!), I’d like to take two times a week and disappear to the computer room to get some writing work done. Really, I didn’t think this was unreasonable cause he would be off three days a week and one of those days he usually takes the kid and visits his mother (I usually stay home during this time to write and breath nice, quiet air). So really, I was only asking for ONE other time a week. ONE, yo.

His first response is, well, we won’t get into that because it caused a whole other argument and I don’t want to ramble here for six pages. BUT, here’s the point, back to the H word.

He says, (paraphrasing) “It’s gonna suck when you sell and start making money for your writing.”

You can see me sitting there on the couch wondering what in the mother load prompted that idea. I mean really, there would be extra income! Um—HELLO, knock, knock on the forehead, anybody in there? Then the thought ran through that deadlines and contracts meant extra writing time that I’d have to put in. And yeah, I could see where that’d suck for him because there would be times when I’d be taking more than two times a week to disappear to the computer room, I’m sure.

But no, that wasn’t what he meant at all. The knuckle down bottom of this statement came in his next statement:

(again with the paraphrasing. It’s been a couple nights and me temper, it messes with me memory—don’t forget the accent!) “You’ll be getting to be doing what you love and getting paid for it and I’m not.”

At this moment, picture my heart breaking. Because yeah, that would suck. But then I had a second thought that ran through there. WAIT JUST A COTTON PICKIN’ MINUTE… “But you love welding.”

You can’t imagine how many times he’s mentioned loving this and more—LOVING the people he works with. Him and the guys he works with are complete and utter best friends. They do stuff on the weekends together and talk on the phone. He loves his job. Of this, I am sure.

He makes this hand gesture and nose squishes up saying otherwise, (do I have to repeat it? Just assume the rest of this is paraphrased) “But it’s not what I want to do.”

Me, and I swear, I stayed so positive even though everything I thought I knew about my husband’s happiness was totally being shattered and leaving me to also wonder, why didn’t he say anything before? “What do you want to do then?”

He shrugs. “There’s nothing else to do here.”

“Do you want to move somewhere else?” (I swear to you, that popped right out. I think I deserve a supportive wife of the year award because yeah, I would absolutely pack up and move if he wanted to go somewhere else for some other kind of work.)

But he says…. “No.”

“I don’t understand. What do you want to do then? I know you don’t want to wear a business suit every day.”

He makes a face like he just got a little mini-throwup in his mouth proving that. “It’s just, you’ll be getting paid for doing your hobby.”

Oh, yes, he called my writing the H word. The GOVERNMENT doesn’t even label my writing as the H word. I NEVER have. The first day I said I’d write a story I thought, I’ll write a story and publish it and be rich and famous. ….yeah, don’t spoil the dream people. The point is that this has never been a hobby. And that completely rocked my world because he’s always been so supportive and then he goes and says this is a hobby.

He sputters around for a few minutes after I keep pressuring him to come up with something (remember the temper!). He gets this self-satisfied, smug look on his face and says, “Maybe I want to do a deer hunter show.”

Yeah, you get after that. Don’t think I’m gonna sit in the cold with you and whisper in the camera.  My husband is as shy as they come when it comes to talking to strangers, yet his long wanted dream is to be on a TV show, talking into the camera to—boat loads of strangers. Still not sure what brought all this on and can’t help but wondering if he’s having a “I’m the man and am supposed to bring home all the bacon” complex.

What’s your hobby? And if you’re wondering, I do have hobbies. They have nothing to do with writing. They are: baking, charcoaling and creating 3-D cakes.

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10 Responses

  1. Writing is my favorite hobby too, Keri, but I have a lot of other things I like to do too. I love to read, jog, and I love volleyball if I could get a lot of people to play.

  2. Reading is one of my favorite hobbies, so is walking. I would like to learn how to knit. Thanks, Keri.

  3. Ha, ha. I had to laugh at reading this because this is the same arguement I’ve had with my honey for the past few years.

    My hobby! How many times did I tell him that I had to write it if I want to sell it. He didn’t get it.

    He told me the same thing. Guitars. He wants to be a song writer. Well, go on ahead. Just don’t quit your day job 🙂

    Of course, I quit mine. But really mine only paid me a little bit. We’re still paying off his bills from Dental school. And the practice. And the boat he had to have. And the house he wanted with the pool….can I rant a bit?

    I get you, girlfriend. Men. Jeez.

  4. Oh, wait. I was supposed to give my hobbies:

    reading, gardening and cooking (only when I’m in the mood) and I like to paint. Just finished a wall art mural thing for my new neice expected in December.

  5. Love Volleyball, but not for long periods of time, Jamie. My hands are not in shape for it and the ball continually hitting them makes them sting pretty quick.

  6. Jane I used to crochet (sp?–well say knit), but it’s to much stress on my wrists. I tried working through, thinking they just needed to get ‘used to it’, but thirty minutes with the needle began equalling 2 or 3 days of sore wrists. Finally just stopped.

  7. Guitar-HA! At least you have some leverage..you go ahead and tackle that guitar hobby of yours sweetie, but AFTER we finish paying for your last dream job.

    I think the more time I’ll need to spend on writing is what is really at the bottom of this hobby and getting paid for remark.

    I didn’t know you painted! I oil panted in high school and I liked it, but I’ve found I’m better with things I can do directly with my hands—clay and the above mentioned charcoal, baking and cakes.

  8. Oh, dear! Men just don’t get it do they? LOL My husband is right up there with yours when it comes to my writing. He doesn’t say too much about it anymore since I blew up the last time he made a stupid comment.

    My hobbies are photography and painting. I think he understands the difference now. 🙂

  9. I don’t write! I just read ’em!! Your husband sounds alot like mine tho!! He mentions a little snidely about how much we eat out, since I work, BUT he LOVES the extra money I bring in. Which is a good thing, since his job has been cut to 32 hours a week.. He’s a painter of big ole steel beams used in construction work!! I can’t help he works nites and I work days!! Thanks for letting me rant.

  10. My husband has never had one of those, “I should be the breadwinner moments.” In fact, when we met with the minister before we got married, the minister asked if it bothered him that I had more education and was making more money. His reply? “Why do you think I’m marrying her?”

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