Thursday, January 31, 2008


Well, it's not "here", but it is HERE! Please head over to the Game site, or to jen's a2eatwrite, and find out who's playing. Then go read some FUN stories--and NEXT TIME, be sure to sign up so you can play too.

Click on: Blogosphere Meets Real World to read my entry. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks again, jen, for inviting all of us to play The Writing Game!

Monday, January 28, 2008

the Association - Windy

Ah to be young again . . .

Windy and a little breath of youthful joy . . .

Check in with Soccer Mom in Denial who started Music Monday and see who else is playing!

On Soap Opera Sunday I’ve been telling tales from my early dating years entitled “Older Men and other acts of insanity . . .” The first fellow I’ve been talking about was a very gifted artist, Tony. He was a drummer besides being an art major--drew in several mediums, but I think was partial to acrylics, pencil, chalks and charcoals.

Anyway, one of the big summer hits was a song called Windy. And for whatever reason, Tony decided it was “our” song, and most especially because he felt the words described what he saw in me.

NOW, before all those who know me now think it has something to do with me being long winded, talking ad infinitum, etc.--NO--a thousand times NO (and stop your giggling). Tony was a romantic, and saw me through his artistic, romantic-soul eyes as this wild and free character, breezing through life with a song in my heart.

Not sure that would have summed me up at all--but the Idea of it and the song itself, became one of my favorites, just because I accepted it as his vision of me, and one I found VERY winsome and wonderful.

Hope you will enjoy the song with me.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

SOAP OPERA SUNDAY--postedponed due to Life . . .

Hey Gang,

Life rather "happened" around here, and I'm going to postpone my next SOS segment for this week and possibly next week. Sorry--there's more of Tony, more of "Older Men and other acts of insanity . . ." And I thank everyone for giving me great encouragement to continue sharing all my hair-brain youthful escapades LOL.

Please head over to Anonymous Soapiness to see who else is writing today! And I'll see you back again in a week or two!

Thursday, January 24, 2008


It amazes me that last November, when I took on the thirty day blogging assignment, I actually wrote something every single day--week days, weekends, through the holiday with houseguests--I wrote something every day. And further to my own amazement, some of them were fairly “substantial” pieces.

However, as soon as November was over, it was like one of the Macy Day balloons--like someone let all the air out. I was full and inspired, right up there flying high all November. And then, whoosh, December 1st, the party was over. No inspiration, not a thought in my head worthy of adding two or three words together to express. Zip.

And, more or less, it’s been like that ever since. I try to get myself going. I sign in, go out and begin reading others’ blogs, and commenting on others’ blogs--and there goes my day, there goes my time on the computer, and I haven’t created one single paragraph for my own blog.

Heaven forbid, but I’m beginning to wonder if I should have taken on the new expanded NaBloPoMo 365--writing daily for the year.

It seems I need deadlines. I need writing assignments. Mostly I need an editor who says “write this, have it on my desk by this” and then hangs up on me, or swivels their chair around and all I see is the back of their head and a perfunctory wave of their hand dismissing me from the room. OK, I might have made that last part up . . .

Never-the-less, I am often astonished how completely focused I become as the days dwindle down to hours, and the hours to AN hour--just focused, creative, words flowing . . . And I always read the thing thinking “now if I’d just had a wee bit more time, I could have done this, or I could have added a great quote, or . . . “ but of course, there was no more time was there!

Perhaps like the drunk at the party who, in his/her impaired condition, thinks ALL his/her jokes are hilarious, I’m convinced I do my best writing under these eleventh hour writing jags because that’s almost always how I allow Murphy’s Law to affect my time: A task will automatically fill all the available time--whether two minutes or two hours or two days.

And how about you, my fellow bloggers? Are you deadline writers--or are you all organized, topics for the week picked out, a time lined up for your writing, editing? Pages in the hopper, waiting for posting? Come on, you can tell me.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Wordless Wednesday

It's a dog's life--part two.

Check out Jenn in Holland to see who else is playing Wordless Wednesday.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Blue man group - Sing Along - Live!

Will you sing along?

Will You Sing Along?

Check in with Soccer Mom in Denial who started Music Monday and see who else is playing!

It’s probably because I have always felt tuned in to the percussion instruments (OK, I have always had a “thing” for drummers too--but that’s rather a side-bar issue), but I can listen to drum solo’s, and heavy percussion pieces and just be in my fifth heaven. And that’s probably why, when I first heard the Blue Man Group, I just went total immersion into their stuff.

I suppose if I were to get all “into” the heady diagnostic angles, like their appearance, their on-stage persona’s and how they work off each other, there’d be an entire other aspect to why I enjoy their performances so much. But basically I just enjoy their sound.

Now, although the piece I’ve chosen to share today isn’t one where they show off so many of their varied instruments, it just happens to be a song that resonates inside me. I don’t care to analyze it--I just like to listen to it (over and over and over). I can play it for quite a few takes before I’ve had my fill. And then the song can run around in my head for the rest of the day.

Hope you enjoy it too.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Older Men and other acts of insanity . . . Part Three

SOS is an event inspired by Brillig and Walking Kateastrophe's . To find out who else is taking part, and read some great SOS, Walking Kateastrophe is hosting this week. Go check it out for some soapy fun! This is my own story--an ending and a beginning, from high school to college--and the array of “older“ men that came through my life back then. Part One is here., Part Two is here.

With approximately three weeks of finals and my actual graduation ceremony left, and Tony’s last two weeks of college finals, we saw very little of each other after our rather enticing first date. We spoke via the phone, and saw each other Saturday evenings during finals weeks.

My father kept pushing for me to go to the state university, even though my dorm room and roommate were already chosen for the coming fall semester at the university at Ames, Iowa. However, once the local university offered me a generous honor student placement, if I would go to summer school instead of waiting until the fall semester, my father offered me the sun, moon and stars if I’d accept. Ok, not the sun and moon, but a Maroon Mustang and a gas credit card (unheard of back in the late sixties for a student to have a gas credit card). Of course, Tony was also pushing for me to accept the local honor student enrollment so he and I could continue dating.

Finally with so much pressure from my parents, I accepted the honor student position, and there I was four days after high school graduation, I was starting summer school, sitting in the honor’s classroom at 7:30 a.m. If I hadn’t been practically asleep in my chair, I would have been completely devastated that I was no longer going to the college of my dreams, but I was also surrendering my last summer of “freedom” before beginning “adulthood”, college, and looking at a life of WORK and OCCUPATION squarely in the face. Good thing I had a very cool car to drive around in, or boyfriend or not, I could have been pretty depressed.

Tony, on the other hand, was also taking summer classes and was there to pick me up for my first day of classes. He was extremely tickled that he would have me by his side, and get to walk me to classes, take me to the student union, to the library for study dates, to school events, etc. I tried to join in on his enthusiasm, but I’m NOT a morning person, and pretty summer weather or not, climbing in his car at six-thirty a.m. on a June morning, didn’t catch me in my most “perky” mood.

Still, Tony showered me with little surprises throughout the day. He had created a series of small “welcome to college” gifts, each one wrapped in crazy and sweet ways, decorated with his own personal artistic flare. It was difficult to stay in a crummy mood when such attention was being lavished on me.

At the end of the day, before delivering me back home, he had one more BIG box in the trunk of the car. I unwrapped it, and there was a stuffed teddy bear with a graduation hat on--and it was sitting on top of another wrapped box. I opened the next package, and it had a box of new ink pens in it--and another box. By the fourth box, which held a “coupon” for one free back rub, redeemable from gift-giver at the time of my own choosing--and one more tiny box, I was pretty knocked off my feet by his thoughtfulness and creativity. In the last box was a bottle of VERY expensive perfume.

I wasn’t sure my father would allow me to accept such an expensive gift--but that wasn’t all that was in the box--under the perfume was a beautiful wristwatch--with diamonds set around the clock face. THAT I was VERY sure my father was going to object to heartily.

Tony was rather surprised when I said I couldn’t accept his gifts without my father’s permission. He argued about it saying he was working, and had been working for over a year and a half to pay for his college expenses, but that he had enough to “spoil” his favorite girl. I told him my father was born in 1908, was pretty “Victorian” in his views--and I doubted he’d let me keep the gifts. I told him my folks had me when they were forty, so I’d grown up used to an “older” set of values--and there really would be little chance he’d bend on this.

Tony said he wanted to talk with my dad--I gave him credit for courage, but I felt it was going to NOT bode well for our “future” dating. But Tony went right in to the house and asked my father if he might speak with him. He explained that he had his own money. He had purchased the watch for my graduation present, but hadn’t had time to give it to me since between graduation and my starting college I’d been busy with family things. He said it wasn’t just an “off-handed” gift, but appropriate for graduation. My father was protesting, but I was surprised, he finally agreed as Tony assured him his parents knew of the gifts, and his intentions were honorable.

I was impressed. And I only had to take a mild amount of static from my parents after Tony left that evening. All-in-all, my first day of college had been pretty awesome.

The second weekend after college classes had started, Tony asked me out for a second “date”. We had been fairly inseparable on campus between classes, but Tony said that didn’t count as a date. He had planned a special outing for us, and he’d be there to pick me up bright and shining on Saturday. I said it was going to be my first day to sleep in since school began, so not to make it too bright and shining. But he said we had a ways to go, so no sleeping in.

After a two hour’s drive out through the countryside, Tony turned in to an area marked as “trout stream” area. He had packed not only a picnic and munchies, but also a bunch of art supplies. Tablets, pencils, charcoal, colored pens, just all sorts of things. I figured they were for him. But he said since I’d shared with him I’d been a rather “closet” artist since my dad was the real artist, and told me I was NOT an artist, I was a writer; well, he wanted me to free myself and just draw. He said there was plenty to inspire me there--a trout stream with water cascading over colorful stones, trees with shaggy bark, an array of summer flowers in bloom, birds and critters all around, granite outcroppings, etc.

Tony threw our drinks in the cold stream, made a little fire ring for our foil wrapped steaks, potatoes and corn on the cob to slow cook in the fire’s coals. And we two settled down with our art supplies and began to draw. By late afternoon we stretched out on the blanket just enough in the shade of a large tree to keep from getting sunburned, and took a catnap. We were lulled asleep with the sounds of the birds and the water rushing over the stones. The scent of the flowers was intoxicating.

When I came to, Tony had packed everything up, and was stretched out beside me, tickling my ear with the edge of a daisy. He brushed kisses along my cheek, my nose, and nibbled on my earlobe. The light warm breeze of the day seemed to accentuate his every move. He ran the tips of his fingers from my shoulders, down my arms, and out to my fingertips. It felt like tiny electrical zings that went from my finger tips, directly to my very alert breasts and other VERY alert special places. He took his time, even playing gently with the ringlets around my face.

I had reached up and put my arms around his neck, pulling him over me and down closer to my body. The warmth of his skin, and his scent made my body ache. As his lips pressed into mine, I tightened my arms, pulling him deeper into my embrace. About the time I was beginning to wrap my leg around his, he laughed ever so gently, and pulled himself out of my arms, and raised himself up and away from me.

“Whoa there, Sweetheart. Let’s not do anything we’d be sorry about later. I intend for us to make it for the long haul. We better head back to the car and down the road for home.”

He took my hands and pulled me to my feet. I was rather confused and a bit out of it. The hormones were still dictating what my body wanted--and his words weren’t quite registering. The Sunday-go-to-meeting side of me was glad for his restraint. The “you’ve GOT to be kidding” hormonal side of me was a bit hurt about this seeming rejection of my “offering”.

Tony pulled me close to him and kept his arm around me on the drive home. I really was inexperienced in getting into hot and heavy sex--but some how I did feel rejected. I kept telling myself he was right, and I was safe with Tony and could trust his judgment. It had been a wonderful day--and he had seen to it I had nothing to regret later. Now if I could just convince my hormones, it would truly have been the end to a perfect day.

Saturday, January 19, 2008


After a week babying my back, mincing around, and taking muscle relaxants, I‘m:

Jenn in Holland inspired me to join in on her: Singular Saturday. If you pop over to her site, you can see who else is being "singular" today.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Monday, January 14, 2008

Neil Diamond

Beautiful noise: The Music of Life


Soccer Mom in Denial started Music Monday. This week, though, Flower Child is hosting, so check out and see who else is playing over at her site!

Here’s a very simple tune, yet I find it nurtures my soul. Hope you enjoy this Neil Diamond song and find it as pleasing as I do. It truly is a “beautiful noise”:

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Older Men and other acts of insanity . . . Part Two

SOS is an event inspired by Brillig and Walking Kateastrophe's . To find out who else is taking part, and read some great SOS, Brillig is hosting this week. Go check it out for some soapy fun! This is my own story--an ending and a beginning, from high school to college--and the array of “older“ men that came through my life back then. Part One is here.

I introduced Tony to my parents. He did all the proper things, like looking directly into my dad’s eyes as they shook hands, pleasant smile, but a direct man-to-man look. As my mom stretched out her hand, he shook it smiling as he kept her gaze. I saw Mom and Dad nod an approval to each other on his manners. Round one, and Tony was doing pretty darn good.

He was dressed in a very handsome suit, which I would have expected since we were going to a wedding. But as he chatted with my parents, he stated that he was one of the ushers, and we really would need to leave as he was wanted at the church prior to the wedding to get his boutonniere and begin seating the guests as they arrived. I have to admit, I probably looked a bit concerned, as I had thought I’d be sitting with Tony. He looked over at me, grinned, and assured me he’d be close by, and I wouldn’t have to sit with his parents unless I wanted to. I DID let out an audible sigh of relief, to which everyone chuckled.

And then we were off. He had rather whisked me out the door, down the stairs, and off to his car, where he opened the door. I slid on in (and in those days, no seatbelts), and tried to straighten out my dress so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

It turned out the church was only a few blocks away. Funny how we’d evidently been practically neighbors for years, but had never met. We went to the same high school, but I would have been a sophomore while he was a senior--that pretty much would have kept us separate right there! Seniors and sophomores don’t share classes, unless they’re in band, orchestra, chorus--or a few “elective” courses. And if we’d ever seen each other at the local grocery store, pharmacy, etc., well, unless he tripped over me, or we bumped car fenders, I doubt we’d ever really would have noticed one another. OK, I would have noted a good looking fellow, but no sense in dwelling on something “out of your league”.

I have to admit, by nature I’m rather shy. OK, everyone who knows me, stop chortling, you might hurt yourself. I know I have performed on stage for crowds, I’ve taught from lecterns in theaters and at the front of classrooms. And I engage total strangers in conversations with no hesitation. BUT, when it came to my dating years, being with a new fellow, and meeting his people, his family, his friends, I was ready to blend in to the woodwork, be the mouse under the table, or the fly on the wall--I really was so worried about the impression I’d make, I would freeze up like a deer in the headlights.

We walked into the church vestibule, and there they were. Hoards of them. All people Tony seemed to know. Everyone came over to give him a squeeze, a handshake, a kiss on the cheek. And EVERYONE, was rolling eyes, tipping heads my direction, and asking “Oh Tony, who’s THIS sweet girl?” or "Oh, FINALLY, we get to meet your special lady.” And I clung to his hand for dear life, as he graciously, and with a sweet little grin, introduced me with the title of “his lady” and my name.

I was very relieved when he finally led me to a pew at the back of the church. His parents weren’t there yet, and he needed to begin seating people--so he put me back close to the place he’d be sitting during the service. Everyone was being ushered up to the front, filling in seats there first. And I was quite content to hold down the fort at the back, all by myself.

Just when I had begun to breathe normally, Tony was standing next to my seat and on his arm was a woman--who turned out to be his mother. And on the other side of his mom was his dad, and his two brothers. They had decided they would sit back with me, rather than move up closer to the front. Tony busied himself making introductions, and I stood up and moved out of the pew to make room for them--at which point his Mom went past me and began moving down the pew to make room--but his dad shoved me back in telling me he didn’t want me to feel left out, so I was going to sit between he and Tony’s mom. Yikes.

Good thing I was young and not prone to heart attacks, as I’m sure my blood pressure was off the Richter scale! Everyone was speaking in semi-hushed “church” tones, with his brothers leaning around their father to ask me questions, and his mother leaning around me telling them to be quiet. Every time Tony went by ushering someone to a seat, his father would elbow me, and nod toward Tony. To which he would add some kind of conspiratorial wink and grin, which I decided not even to try and figure out all of what that was about.

Although we all stood as the chords to the wedding march for the bride began, I have to admit, the rest of the service was a bit of a blur to me. I was greatly relieved when we all stood and filed out of the pew, and I could beg off needing to head to the little girl’s room. Sitting in my little potty cubicle, I finally had a few minutes to collect myself and see if I could get my blood pressure back somewhere close to normal--I don’t think even when you’re young it’s good to have elevated blood pressure for over a half hour.

As I came out of the bathroom, I was almost afraid to look around and find one of Tony’s immediate family ready to corral me again. Instead, there was Tony. He bowed slightly from the waist. Flashed me an irresistible smile. And slightly extended his bent arm, allowing me to take hold as he led me toward the church’s reception hall. And just as we got to the door of the hall, he dropped his arm, moved slightly behind me, and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close into his body.

I barely had time to react to this masculine gesture, when I felt his warm breath on my neck, as he whispered in my ear, “You’re safe now. I’m not letting you go for one more moment the rest of the day.” I felt the heat rise from my neck up what I was sure to my now blushing cheeks. And from that moment on, he was at my side. Even sitting at the table for our meal, he ever so slightly moved his leg over to touch my leg. When dancing, he alternated holding me out at arm’s length, as he looked me over like he was thinking I was edible, and then pulling me in to his warm muscular body directing us smoothly around the dance floor.

And some where in all of it, there on the dance floor, as he pulled me in close, he dipped me ever so gently and kissed me. His lips were soft, tender, yet with just a bit of urgency. I was grateful he had a good hold on me or I’d have swooned and hit the floor.

Can’t tell you much more about the rest of the day--I don’t think my head was in gear, but my glands were working over-time. And this was our FIRST date, I couldn’t imagine how he could top it on our second date--but he did!

Saturday, January 12, 2008


The reason I read:

Jenn in Holland inspired me to join in on her: Singular Saturday. If you pop over to her site, you can see who else is being "singular" today.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Reporting on Day to Read!

I read, pretty much off and on all day long. One thing I did, which I have not taken the time and enjoyed the luxury of for a VERY long time, was to read the paper from beginning to end--pretty much every page, every article! Wow. I used to be such a paper reader. But now, with on-line news "clips" and such, I just don't read the entire paper. BUT, yesterday I had the joy and satisfaction of reading it cover to cover.

I also worked on other things--but really that was my one big commitment for the day. There is a book I'm reading, but it's going to take me some time to get it finished. And I have a couple others I have been reading excerpts from as research for my novel. But over-all, I am working on reading those things all the time. The paper was "special" for me--and I only wish it had been a Sunday paper, because that can be an all-dayer, replete with munchies and such! ;-)

It's been fun today to go around to those participating and see what they read and their reports. I'm so pleased we all took this time and made this commitment. I just left off the computer for the largest part of the day, and didn't go to any blogs--it was the only way I wouldn't find myself reading blogs LOL.

Again, this has been fun--maybe we'll have to do it again.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Wordless Wednesday


Momma's auburn-haired sleeping angel: Daisy Mae

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Elvis Presley - Amazing Grace

Happy Birthday Elvis!

Happy Birthday Elvis!

Today is Elvis Aaron Presley's birthday. I was pretty sure I was born as his 14th year birthday present (the day before, so I'd be there on time I'm sure). However, other than my grandma and me, no one else seemed to share this idea.

I was pleased that the year before he died, I was able to see him perform live, in Ames, Iowa. I was up in the third tier of balcony seats--had to have binoculars, and try to keep the pigeons from roosting on my head LOL (OK, maybe a slight exaggeration). But, still, he and I were in the same "room", breathing the same air--it was live--and after so many years of being a true blue fan, it was a biggie in my book.

The next year, as I was taking care of my one year old son, the phone rang. A relative who knew what a die-hard fan I was, asked if I was sitting down. That is NEVER a good sign. She told me Elvis was dead--that it had just come on the news. She told me what channel to put on to see for myself. I was shell-shocked. I really didn't want to believe it.

There was much time afterwards to contemplate the why's, hear all the suggestions of how it came to happen, and think about the what if's. And it still all came down to the fact--Elvis was gone.

I have never gone to see an Elvis impersonator--if I want, I can see his movies, I can listen to his recordings--there is only one Elvis, and I don't care to see anyone trying to "play" him.

He was a one and only. He was a man with foibles. He was a gifted fellow, who had, within him, the ability to bring happiness to others through his singing. He never took the Elvis image seriously. In fact, he had quite a sense of humor about himself. But he understood people did take the hype seriously, and he tried to be that for them as much as he could.

He is missed by many. I am one of them. Here's a little tribute for him--enjoy. And Happy Birthday Elvis!

Monday, January 7, 2008

Happy Birthday!

Check in with Soccer Mom in Denial who started Music Monday and see who else is playing!


I’ve hit the big 59--and the BIG 6-0 is looking me square in the face LOL. Although I’m all for saving a few quarters, I’m really not dancing for joy to being another year closer to my Senior Discount at all my favorite restaurants!

I wish I had great revelations of knowledge, pithy sayings that apply to aging gracefully, and wisdom being revealed by my every thought and deed. However, I’m turning out to be a pretty nice gal, and a good friend, and as long as I wake up breathing, I have another day to be my very best.

Here’s a little music to celebrate my special day!

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Paul McCartney - Birthday (Knebworth)

Happy Birthday to me!

Older Men and other acts of insanity . . .

SOS is an event inspired by Brillig and Walking Kateastrophe's . To find out who else is taking part, and read some great SOS, Brillig is hosting this week. Go check it out for some soapy fun! This is my own story--an ending and a beginning, from high school to college--and the array of “older“ men that came through my life back then.

It was my high school senior year. We were allowed two days off to travel to colleges and attend their events for selling their school to potential students. My only desire was to visit the university at Ames, Iowa--where my brother had gone. The ratio of males to females was something like five to one (and I felt five males to my “one” was a good thing).

My father wanted me to check out the university at Cedar Falls, Iowa--a mere twenty minute drive from home, thus eliminating the need for housing and food expense since I could stay at home. According to my father, when they snipped my umbilical chord from Mom, he picked it up and had attached it to himself--so, in short, he said I could only go so far from home/him--and then HE would feel he could keep me safe (Dad’s are SO unrealistic. If a girl decides to do stupid, dumb, potentially harmful things, by golly, she’s going to find a way!).

Anyway, my cousin was a sophomore at the local college--so I decided to go with him to some of his classes, and he had agreed to take me to some of the scheduled events for potential students. And spending the day with my cousin was going to be a treat in itself, since he was my “other” brother, and always fun to be with.

My senior year I was pretty “buff”--long before working out was “in”, I was a closet exercise nut. At a petite 5'2", eyes of blue--I was a mini-Dolly Parton (OK, not the same cup size, but not bad either). My cousin thought I created “good PR” for him, as fellows envied him his “date”, and potential girlfriends wondered what they’d been missing with this guy (at least that was how he saw having me tagging along).

The day was a blast. I met SO many good-looking fellows, all friends of my cousin, and all college sophomores--a high school girl’s dream. “Older” men, and I got to chat with them, flirt discreetly, and often was the only female in a pod of males. Well, if I hadn’t decided I was going to the other university, this had to be a great selling point right there.

However, the icing on the cake was a call from my cousin a couple of days later asking if I’d be OK with one of his classmates calling me. Evidently I’d made quite an impression on one of his buddies, and he wanted to call me and ask me out on a date. A college man wanting to date me. OK, I was officially psyched! But for the life of me, as my cousin described the fellow, I couldn’t think who he was, or what I’d thought of him when I met him. Ah well, details, I’d find out after he called.

That evening the call came in. Dad had answered the phone. I had an extention phone in my room, which back in those days was pretty rare (yes, I’m dating myself). So at least once my dad hung up I had relative privacy.

His name was Tony. I was already in love. He started right off trying to help me figure out which he had been, of the many fellows I’d met that day at school. Finally he admitted he hadn’t talked with me, but had seen me with my cousin, and thought I was his girlfriend so didn’t intrude. He had ethics, hum.

He began telling me where he lived (which turned out not to be very far from my home). He said I couldn’t miss his family’s home, as it was the only “barn” on Fourth Street. That street was filled with some very beautiful old Victorian homes, so I was thinking, “wow, NICE neighborhood”. I assumed the joke was calling it a barn because of its size--but later I was to find out it was, indeed, the shape of the house, like an old red barn found everywhere in Iowa’s farming landscape.

He then told me about his family. His sense of humor was fantastic. I’m a sucker for a guy with a good sense of humor. And this fellow liked to play with words, doing quite a “standup” routine via the phone. I was more than hooked. He had me chuckling and occasionally laughing out loud. I figured by then looks would be small potatoes, as he had me where my heart is. Laughing.

When he asked me out, I was a bit surprised. He had to attend a relative’s wedding that weekend, and he wondered if I’d like to be his date. He thought it would be a great way to spend time with me, and introduce me to his family. My goodness, meet his family already--we had barely met. But he was so sincere, so dear the way he asked, how could I refuse?

So I dressed in my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, nice pumps, new purse, hair all done up, and there I sat, waiting for him to arrive. I had older parents, so there was no need (and probably no use) giving the “Please don’t say anything stupid or embarrassing” speech. My folks were SO proper, they would be polite to someone who picked his nose, although he would never be invited back.

A pristine baby blue 55 Chevy pulled into the drive. OK, in 1967 you couldn’t do better than that unless you had a Vet! And as I tried NOT to be seen staring out the window, I was intense, trying to see what this fellow with the great sense of humor looked like. The car door opened, he stepped out of the car, closed the door, and there he was. He was Handsome--I mean, Hollywood handsome--not Marlboro man handsome--more a shorter version Cary Grant handsome. Extremely BUFF! As in I work out with weights, Buff.

He came to the door, which I already had wide open. He took one look at me, and before either of us said a word, he broke out in the biggest smile, then rather shyly looked down as if to regroup--but then looked right back up, deep into my eyes, reached out to take my hand in his, and said a sweet and simple, “Hi.”

I was smitten, and amazingly he seemed to be smitten with me--Wow!

Saturday, January 5, 2008


Looking toward my upcoming fifty-ninth birthday, I can truly say, My Life is:

Jenn in Holland inspired me to join in on her: Singular Saturday. If you pop over to her site, you can see who else is being "singular" today.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

The Blog Readability Test

Found this “test” for readability level at Katstuff’s site. Clicked on over to the site and found out what my site’s readability level was--and found out it’s Genius--who knew LOL?

You’ll have to click on over and find out where you land--might surprise yourself.