A Quirky Quail Christmas
Celebrating Love That Lasts
I’m convinced every long-term relationship needs one thing:
A shared joke that never dies.
This month, mine arrived in the shape of a Mama clay quail with three babies. Each had turquoise swirls on their backs and their beaks and topknots looked almost… well… like tiny lumps that should not be on a bird.
The Quirky Quail.
A favorite bird of the American Southwest, the gambles quail have been depicted in more art projects, watercolors, serious paintings and ceramic figurines than the saguaro cactus. Mine were gloriously innocent of any artistic snobbery. They were...in the best sense of the word...”folk art.”
Clay brown bodies with turquoise swirls, topknots leaning like they were dizzy, they were glorious! Simply glorious!
My husband Mat’s involuntary intake of breath told me everything I needed to know.
“I can’t believe you paid good money for those,” he said.
Disgusted.
Appalled.
Offended on behalf of clay everywhere.
I adore them.
Twice a day I ask him,
“Hey, what do you think of those quirky quail I bought?”
The look on his face, the sheer moral distress, sends me into a fit of laughter every single time.
They join another treasure I purchased two years ago:
Peach, a crocheted doll with curly yellow hair and six toes per foot, perched permanently on my towel rack like a cheerful little mutant guardian.
These objects are ridiculous.
They’re not refined.
And yet—they bring me joy.
Real joy.
The Joke’s on Both of Us
I found both Peach and the quirky quail at our local retirement community craft show—a wonderland of enthusiastic retirees selling everything from crocheted animals with extra toes to wood-burned ornaments shaped like mermaids. Part professional artist, part first-time amateur— it’s a place where creativity meets chaos, and I love every inch of it.
Occurring on black Friday every year, the craft show is the opening salvo to the Christmas season and I never know what I am going to find. When I saw the quail, something in me lit up.
Mat watched me pick them up with a look that can only be described as existential dread.
Now, twice a day, I ask him:
“So… what do you think of those quirky quail I bought?”
And every single time he winces, groans, or puts his head in his hands.
And I laugh until my stomach hurts.
And that—right there—is marriage therapy.
It’s the unspoken truth of long-term love:
You need things to laugh about together
(or in my case, I laugh and Mat suffers, but it works out fine).
It’s too easy in any marriage, to drift into routine:
Work, meals, chores, responsibilities.
What Keeps a Marriage Together
You need interruptions—small, absurd disruptions of the everyday—that remind you there is still play between you.
These quail sit in my house like tiny marriage counselors, reminding us:
don’t take everything so seriously
let your partner be their weird, wonderful self
find humor in your differences
let joy interrupt the day
let yourselves be imperfect together
Life is weird. Let’s be weird together
After four decades, what keeps a marriage steady isn’t constant agreement.
It’s not perfection.
It’s not matching taste in home decor (clearly).
It’s a shared life built on:
in-jokes
ridiculous memories
tenderness
a willingness to say “okay, you can have your weird quail”
and laughter that keeps circling back
Every romance novel I write touches this in some way—
those little quirks, those surprising moments, the humor that signals safety and intimacy.
Love grows in the spaces where we allow each other to be fully human—
goofy, flawed, joyful, and unpolished.
So this Christmas, I’m celebrating the quirky quail, Peach with her six toes, and all the imperfect, delightful things that keep love alive.
May your home be full of laughter this season—
even if it arrives in the shape of a clay bird with a questionable beak.
For A Downloadable Freebie Entitled: How to Spot “The One,” A Red Flag/Green Flag Roadmap For Anyone Who Wants Love That Lasts, go to: rebekahlaynebrown.com/freebies