Banjo Man gave me this for Christmas:

Yes.  Gardener’s Soap.  Pretty box, isn’t it?  The only problem here is that I don’t garden.  Ever.  I don’t touch dirt.  I don’t know the names of flowers.  I cannot identify trees.  I do not take long walks in the country.  I do not hike.   I did try to have a garden in 1976, and you can see from this picture how overwhelming a project it was.

Banjo Man also gave me this for Christmas:

Yes.  A thermal shirt for hunting & fishing.  I once caught a fish, in 1984.  I was on a large boat at the time, a boat with a warm cabin and food and a bathroom.  I have never spent the night in a duck blind, nor have I tracked an elk or shot a bear.  I’m not sure when I’m supposed to wear my “huntin’ and fishin’ shirt”, but I guess I should pack up the new soap with my nonexistent camping equipment.

This man has known me since I was sixteen.  I have no idea what goes on in his head.

So…I think Banjo Man has another wife.  An outdoorsy one, with a green thumb and an eagle eye and a trigger finger.

Poor thing.  She must be wondering what to do with a gift certificate to the local quilt shop and new violin strings.