So. My Christmas present took my breath away. She bought me this.
A Tag Heuer Aquaracer. Is it not stunning? I gazed upon it with awe in my heart and loved it instantly. But then Fisher said that, if I wasn't entirely sure about it, I could go back to the jeweller and see if any of the others caught my fancy. I thought long and hard, and decided that no, this one was what I wanted. But we had to go to the jeweller and get the strap adjusted, and while we were there Fisher had me look at all the other choices. There were 4, and each one I rejected, not liking them at all. Seemed like Fisher had done a fantastic job of picking out a gorgeous, elegant watch, exactly to my taste.
And then I saw it. My eyes widened slightly. I pointed it out to Fisher, just as an example of something beautiful.
"Oh, you can have that one if you want," she said blithely.
Oh my GOD. I protested. I objected. I spluttered and babbled. But Fisher had the jeweller take the watch from the window and strap it to my wrist.
Gorgeous. Just ... gorgeous. But unlike Fisher's choice, this was a dress watch. It had none of the robust durability of the Tag Heuer. I could either go for elegant beauty, worn rarely and only as an adornment - or Fisher's original choice, which I could look at every day.
I chose the pretty one. Then I changed my mind. I went for the Tag.
After changing my mind a couple more thousand times, I firmly, delightedly confirmed my choice. The Tag it was. And I skipped out of the shop with birdsong in my heart. I've wanted a beautiful watch for so long. Blarney bought me one for my thirtieth and it's gorgeous and I love it, but this one has diamonds on it!!!
Happyhappyhappy. Until today, when I woke a) feeling like shite on a shingle from an awful cough, merrily festered and fostered within Janus's system over Christmas and now residing painfully in my lungs, and b) with my new watch cutting off the blood supply to my wrist. The jewellers had made it too tight. So back Fisher went to get them to readjust it.
To cheer me up, she also bought me a couple of other presents. I hadn't really liked one of the presents she gave me over Christmas (some chunky wooden beads which were very nice, but not me - I'm chunky enough without making my jewellery emphasise the fact) so she took it back and bought me something else.
"Nothing big," she assured me, handing over a little wrapped package, "just something to cheer you up."
I opened it up, and inside was a dear little black purse with beading. Very pretty. I cooed, and felt very loved.
Oh - and the purse had this in it.
THE GORGEOUS DRESS WATCH!!!Can you believe that???
No. I know. Nor can I.
I fluttered between horrified at the extravagance and squealing like a proper princess. And, for once, the princess in me (and there is one, buried very very very deep) won hands down. I think I actually went doe eyed. And, yes, I squealed. A lot.
Fisher is just the best and I love her very, very, very much.
Siiiiiigh.
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