When my dad was around 6 his family home-steaded the ranch where he and I both grew up. He rarely went into town and socialized other than the once a week 10 mile horse ride he and his brothers would take to go have some beers. As an adult, he took over the ranch, and still rarely left the ranch, again, other than go to the bar. In his 30's he helped run his brother Bill's bar in addition to working the ranch. Dad was a shy man and had never dated another woman until he met and married my mother at 40. (Dad was very self-conscious about his nose, but I think he had a handsomeness about him, but I could be biased)
You could say that dad was a bit isolated and didn't have a strong sense of romanticism with one exception. The harbinger of spring was the velvety-lavender crocuses that would pop up in rare spots on the prairie. One of the highlights of spring was hunting for the first crocus to take home to mom. My dad never bought (or picked) my mother flowers, but she would always get a crocus which she would place in a water glass and set in the kitchen window.
You could say that dad was a bit isolated and didn't have a strong sense of romanticism with one exception. The harbinger of spring was the velvety-lavender crocuses that would pop up in rare spots on the prairie. One of the highlights of spring was hunting for the first crocus to take home to mom. My dad never bought (or picked) my mother flowers, but she would always get a crocus which she would place in a water glass and set in the kitchen window.
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