Bob Watch #5: Cupid's Walking Shoes

As a wizened and weathered traveler, Bob scoffs at the idea of Romance. Roses and ponies are the trinkets of the more sedentary, but for the minimalist Aussie, only the necessary makes the journey. Thusly, it was not too surprising that when I brought up Valentines Day on Thursday, Bob snorted and made some comment about the commercialized waste of this "business holiday."

While I understand his view of this Cadbury/Hallmark day, this conception doesn't quite fly when you have a little lady sitting at home-- which Bob does. I have waited to divulge this detail of Bob's life until there was an equally romantic story to couch it in, but good 'ol Aussie Bob is dating our closest farm neighbor, a woman aptly named Bobby. Bobby lives right above our farm, in a small cottage, literally a herculean stones throw from Bob’s own house. A divorcé, she moved into the valley only about a year ago and Bob and her have been dating ever since. Every night, at about 6 pm on the dot, we hear Bob’s truck sidling up the pot-marked dirt road to the top of the hill where Bobby lives. Once there, Bobby fixes a dinner for the two of them, which they share until about 9 pm, at which point we hear Bob's truck retracing it's tracks to his cottage down below.

Though the actual state of their relationship is unknown to me-- sometimes there are substantial lapses in the nightly, dinner routine-- I was fairly confident that Bobby did not share Bob’s blasé Valentines sentiments. So, for about 20 minutes after Bob's Valentines comments, I prodded, nudged and lectured Bob on his call to duty for this particular holiday. I informed him that, though he may see Valentines as fruitless and frilly, she certainly didn’t, and it was his prerogative to use this day to show her that he cared.

I was pretty sure that my lecturing had fallen on deaf ears. Though Bob is a softy, he is also first and foremost the stoic, worldly Aussie. So, imagine my surprise when I walked into the office on Friday to hear Bob mumbling under his breath something about Valentines Day.

When I asked Bob what he was talking about, he sheepishly replied that he was booking two spots for the romantic, four-course Valentines lunch that we are having at Highlands. I ran up, gave him a huge hug, and told him that he was a regular Valentines Don Juan.

That night, Bobby also came over for summer sundowners. Bob was not only showered, with slicked back hair, but he had put on a shirt without holes, (something truly rare for Bob,) and jeans (which I didn't even know he owned.) In other words, in Bob speak, he had brought out the whole shebang. My conclusion: the romantic in Bob has finally emerged and Cupid has hung up his walking shoes.