Love. And bacon.

I’ve got myself into trouble again. I wrote a poem the other day about bank queues. It was silly. My wife saw it, and instead of smiling because it was silly, she decided that I was not nearly romantic enough, and would be writing her a love poem. I can’t do that. You see, I do not love my wife.

They say that the Eskimos have over a hundred different words for snow. I love the idea, and was devastated the other day to learn that they don’t. They have one.

Snow. Just snow.

If you really want a rich and varied language, you have to turn to English. This has something to do with the fact that they call their home the green and pleasant land. Apparently everyone who ever saw it thought “this is pleasant! And green!” and proceeded to invade the crap out of it.

Over the course of history, they have been found pleasant (and green), and been invaded (with varying degrees of success) by; the Britons, the Romans, the Angles, the Picts, the Saxons, the Danes, the Normans, and others.

See Olaf! I told you it was quite nice.

All of these invaders settled down and carelessly scattered words all over the place, leaving a language littered with a hundred different ways to say pretty much anything you could think of. Just look at rain.

Most languages have taken the time and trouble to find a word for water that falls from the sky. The English have found the need to find a whole dictionary. It rains. It pours. It drizzles. It spits. It can really be coming down. It can be all cats and dogs. It can be coming in sideways. There is precipitation. There are showers, downpours, deluges, storms, and cloudbursts. And more.

Being English though, and struggling with that whole stiff upper lip thing, they have brought a world of trouble onto me. You see, they only have one word for love.

They are merely fond of Chicago

Fat people in Bermuda shorts, white socks, and sandals go to New York on holiday, and love it so much they buy “I love New York t-shirts”. How can that be the same word you use for the person you have chosen to share your life with?

How can you spend a huge chunk of your life with someone, with its ups, downs, joys and sorrows, and still want to be there the next day, the next month, the next year, and have to share the word for it with a bunch of horny teenagers writing  “I love Jason” on their pencil cases, only to try and scratch it off when Jason gets off with Suzy at a high-school dance?

How can you wake up next to the same person every day for fifteen years, and look over to see them wild-eyed, and groggy, and crazy-haired with sleep, and think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, ever, and have to share the word for it with the guy who “really loves this next song”, and stares at you throughout to make sure you are loving it too?

How can you spend whole nights on your knees with someone, scooping up toddler vomit and liquid poo, washing sheets at three in the morning, and meet each-other’s eyes and smile, because you know that somehow, this is what you are meant to be doing, and you’re both going to laugh about it later, and have to share the word with someone who really loves what you’ve done with your front garden.

How can you potter around in the evenings for a week or so, not fighting or ignoring each other, but busy with your own things; books, TV shows, blogs, computer games, only to walk past each other in a passage and be electrified by a simple touch, a hand on the stomach or an arm brushing an arm, and feel your heart quicken like you were eighteen again, and share the word for it with someone who loves pie.

How can you spend every free moment for more than a decade with someone, having the same conversations over and over again, “how was your day?”, “what happened at work?”, “what should we do this evening?”, and still feel the need to call at lunchtime, just to see how things are going, and have to share the word for it with some testosterone raddled college boy who really loves his girlfriend until he drinks too much at a party and hooks up with her best friend.

How can you stop, unseen, behind someone, as they wash the dishes or bend to pick up a scattered toy, and see the graceful curve of their neck, or the fall of their hair over their face, and be reminded, even after all these years, that you have not seen all of them yet, and share the word for it with someone who loves lolcat pictures.

If  a word can serve some acned reprobate, furtively carving four letters and a heart on a tree in a public park, that word simply cannot cover raising puppies together and burying dogs together, it won’t do for buying houses together and burning them down together, it’s not up to making little people, losing loved ones, drifting apart, rushing back, finding grey hairs, losing jobs, falling down, standing up.

There are people out there who really love Morris dancing. They can keep the word. When you have a day where your son’s teacher calls you in for a “little chat”, you have to fire someone at work, the roof springs a leak, the dog eats your children’s’ supper and your car breaks down, and you can still look across at someone and think “I’m glad that it’s you. It’s always been you”, it’s time we found another one.

I really love bacon. I might even write a poem about it. My wife, though, is just going to have to wait until the English get invaded again, and someone brings us some bigger words.

True love.

50 thoughts on “Love. And bacon.

  1. The Rider says:

    Very good reading! Thanks! Enjoyed it a lot.

  2. […] it’s my husband’s Love. And Bacon post. Or at least part of […]

  3. […] I discovered this blog, but I do remember the exact post that made me fall in love with it. “Love. And Bacon.“ This guy has a razor sharp sense of humor about a lot of various topics. And he is a […]

  4. Glad I found this blog, thanks for visiting mine!

  5. […] loving: Wow, this is one of the most romantic things I’ve ever read. With bacon! Share this:TwitterFacebookLike […]

  6. Hi 23thorns

    I’ve nominated you for the “One Lovely Blog” award. You can check out the rules here should you wish to participate (although I’ve altered them to suit my own intentions):

    I look forward to reading your posts and appreciate being able to catch snippets of how you see and experience life. I realise that not all of you will want to add this award to your blogs. That is okay. I am nominating you anyway, and I have opted to do so because the intention behind my nominations is to recognise contributions that I find admirable, coupled with my desire to share your awesomeness with others. So, accept it or not, there are no obligations or hard feelings either. More than anything else, I would simply like to thank you.

    Be happy and well,


  7. kelloggs77 says:

    Wow. I clicked on this post because, well, there was bacon in the title. And that can only mean good things. And that’s exactly what it meant. Good things. With a side of bacon. Beautiful post.

  8. Wonderful writing! I ‘love’ this post- sorry! Maybe we should make up some new words for ‘love’ and get them in the dictionary…

  9. Love is a many splendid thing. As is bacon. Bacon and eggs, bacon sandwich, bacon quiche, bacon anything… Gotta love it!

    Meanwhile, I care deeply for my Special Other, and have been known to call that “love”. On a daily basis. Every day. In that respect I guess love is more constant than bacon, considering that I only have bacon – or anything bacon-based – once or twice a week.

    • 23thorns says:

      but they do say absence makes the heart go fonder!
      Good luck with the garden- the coldest we ever get out here is about -5. Copenhagen must be a little challenging. On the other hand, we don’t have any water…

      • We have plenty of water, and our winters really aren’t that cold; a normal winter gets only a few nights when it hits -15, whereas +2 and rain is more the standard winter weather around these parts.

        Water we get enough of, though, especially in the last few years. I shan’t complain, but it does feel a bit disheartening when a third of the lawn is flooded, say.

  10. wyominglife says:

    Dang, is that really true about the eskimos and snow? I’m crushed.

  11. Nylabluesmum says:

    Always entertaining; always thouhgtful; always leave me laughing my chubby butt off……I so HOPE your wife insists you write her a POEM>>> using the words Wife, Love & Bacon in it……
    Brutal aren’t I????? HAHAHAHA!!!

  12. meesha says:

    nice recovery 😆

  13. Eye Dios Mio says:

    Lovely, I had to share this with the other half.

  14. Bambi Lynn says:

    You’re so good; one of my favorite blogs to read!

  15. lmlaw17 says:

    haha, this is too funny.

  16. purplewax says:

    In a way, I think this post reflects the true love (or ‘agape’ – see rabidlittlehippys above post) you feel for your wife more than any poem ever could. A true work of creativity infused with intelligent comedy. I lift my metaphorical hat to you sir.

  17. sel says:

    this is amazing haha

  18. metan says:

    I loved this post. Looooved. Be careful what you wish for, the next invasion might come from the stars, the new word for love might be grsnalfgump. Try and rhyme that.

    Here, let me help… hmmm…

    Roses are red
    Violets are blue.
    I don’t want to scrape up poo
    with anyone but you.

    Genius, I know 😀

  19. Reblogged this on Reserved Abandonment and commented:
    I don’t love bacon. And I don’t have a husband, or a wife, but I did love this post by 23thorns, so it is this week’s reblog 🙂

  20. Try Greek. I believe they have three words for love.
    1. Eros – Erotic love
    2. Filia – Friendship love
    3. Agape – True love

  21. You could try: enthralled, empassioned, head over heels, enchanted, ravished, delighted, transported to another world, googly-eyed, entranced, mesmerized, fascinated, bewitched, charmed, hooked, hypnotized…

    I really enjoy reading you. You write such fun things! It makes me happy 🙂

  22. adorefamily says:

    Yes. Exactly, yes.

  23. unknwnartst says:

    Great combination of humor and true feelings, great work!

  24. A humorous and entertaining post…and in the midst of all of your words, a profound weaving of your love for your wife and what you share together.
    I thank you for allowing us a glimpse into what you share with each other.
    Truly beautiful!

  25. Tell her you can’t find the words, as you serve her breakfast in bed, she will let you off about the poem. As a side you can also indulge in bacon 🙂

  26. Pat says:

    Well that made me laugh. Lovely. I wondered where you were going for a bit with all that not loving your wife!

  27. moonsynch says:

    Wonderful. I like your life. It’s nice to live in it through your blog. There is a husband and wife in Pittsburgh, Pa. who are writers and may interest you. Look up Peter McKay/Gretchen. He writes in a similar fashion, very entertaining! She is a reporter…keep writing!

  28. Your wife really loves this 🙂 Thank you charming husband.

  29. I love this post. And bacon. I’ve never met your wife, but I’ll bet she’s really great.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s