He likes me! He really likes me!

For years I have wanted a turtle. A little turtle in a tank would be OK, I guess, but I want something bigger. I want one that would be a bit awkward to pick up. What is it about turtles that I like so much? Patience. Or at least the appearance of patience. I have no patience. A lot of folks at work tell me that I am a very patient person. They only say that because they can't hear all my mutely screamed expletives or the incessant sour complaining in my head. Those people don't know me.

I have never thought about it before, but maybe turtles aren't patient. Maybe humans have attributed patience to the turtle because it takes them so long to get where they are going when they are travelling on land. Maybe, as they slowly trek across the living room, turtles are silently screaming turtle expletives in their heads or sourly complaining about how long it takes to get from here to there...

I think turtles are beautiful...in a weird prehistoric sort of way. And quite honestly, the only thing I find more adorable than a tiny baby turtle is a tiny baby baby. So I was devastated a few months ago when I heard a commentary on my beloved NPR about turtles being natural carriers of Salmonella. I had tuned in when the program was talking about it being illegal to sell turtles smaller than 4 inches in the United States. This didn't bother me as I was looking forward to welcoming a larger turtle in my home someday. Then the commentator dropped the bomb: People who are at higher risks for infections should not keep turtles as pets. This would include children under 5, the elderly, women who are or who might become pregnant, people with diabetes or other such conditions. Well balls. Nearly every person in my house falls under one of these categories.

John and I celebrated our 9th anniversary this week. We were -so- fancy. We dressed up. We ate at a nice place (whose name I don't remember) where we had never eaten before. We went to see A Christmas Story The Musical at The Rep. We had our picture taken with Santa in the lobby to commemorate our anniversary. Santa was actually done taking pictures for the night, but he graciously posed with us when he heard it was our anniversary. Thank you, Santa! After the show we stopped for some dessert at a place in Brookside where we had never been to before.

Aixois (pronounced x-wah) is a lovely little French bistro and coffee bar. The owner/chef is from the south of France and Aixois literally means "a person from Aix-en-Provence". We ordered a sampling of desserts; creme broulee, bittersweet chocolate mousse, some custard thing whose name I can't remember but translates to "an island" because yummy stuff is floating on top of other yummy stuff. I don't recall what else was on that plate. I only remember that I nearly went into a "That's sooo yummy" coma. (John and I will be going back for what was referred to as "some serious down home and non-snooty French cooking.") You can check them out at aixois.com.

We were settling down for the night when John reminded me that in all our running around, we hadn't exchanged our presents. He handed me a beautiful red bag. I reached inside and found something about the size of my fist and made of wood. I began to feel around the object and when I was sure I pulled it out of the bag excitedly. "You got me a turtle!" I looked at it and saw a big red tag tied around it's neck. "Hi, I'm not quite full grown yet but I will be soon, Maurice."

My wonderful husband hadn't just picked out any old wooden turtle from a hobby shop. He went out, bought a block of wood and was hand carving a turtle for me. For more than a month John has been using his breaks at work to transform this wooden block into a little dream of mine. He even tried to feed Maurice a left over turkey sandwich to see if he would grow a little quicker. He likes me! He really likes me!

Peace, love and blessings,
amy