Romance For Dummies: V-day


In honor of  St. Cupid, I am “paying it forward” to educate men about romance and how it can make their lives (and ours) much happier. ” If your woman is happy…”  and so on.

The very first item we need to cover  is Valentine’s Day. It is this week!!

NEVER ignore this day, or pretend you forgot, to save you from making an effort to be romantic. Gentlemen, you  screw yourselves by doing this. (Pun intended)  This is the one day of the year, she needs to feel special.  Desired, adored and spoiled by you. If she tells you “Oh, Valentine’s Day is no biggie. I don’t care about flowers and chocolates…”.  Do not sigh relief and be glad to get out of it.


Don’t panic!  Remember, you once convinced her to go out with you.  Be that guy. Flirt with her.  I don’t care if you’ve been married for 25-years, she will flirt back.

The Valentine’s Day gift must be something wrapped, for her to open. Taking her to dinner is romantic, but NOT a gift. If you can’t afford to buy her nice jewelry – don’t worry.  My favorite gifts have been a picture of Micky & Minnie Mouse flirting (perfect for a new courtship), and the cutest cement  bunny that mysteriously appeared in my garden.  BTW,  I married that guy…

It doesn’t matter what*** the gift is.  It just needs to represent your feelings for her. Maybe it represents a private joke that only you two share.   The point is you are expressing your love for her. That’s all she wants. Really.

Now that isn’t so bad, is it?

♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥  ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥  ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥  ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥   ♥

*** Gifts to NEVER buy a woman (for any occasion):

  • Kitchen Utensils (i.e. spatulas, colanders)
  • Vacuum Cleaner
  • Apron
  • Voo-Doo Doll
  • A Cookbook (unless cooking together is your “thing”)
  • Electronic Gadget that you want
  • Gun(s)
  • Porn (Dude!  Totally not cool as a gift)

Ladies – please send me any suggestions or ideas that need to be passed along to your man. Together we can make a difference  🙂

photo credit: Sebastià Giralt via photopin cc

My Custom Superhero

This is the summer of the superhero. Even if there already was a movie about a superhero (e.g., Spider-man), it got re-made with new people (I hate it when they do that!). 99.9% of all superheros are male, and honestly, this is OK with me.  I’m an old-fashioned girl who grew up on fairy tales, hero’s on white horses, damsels in distress, and all that.

No wonder I’ve been clinically depressed most of my life.  But that’s another post for another day…

What woman would want Spider-man’s job anyway? Spraying cobwebs from the palm of your hands, and swinging on skyscrapers with them. Yuk!  A gal would also need to be a super-model to get away with wearing that one-piece elastic leotard. Definitely a superhero for the male persuasion.

Same goes for Hell-boy, and the Incredible Hulk. I work hard to make myself presentable in public, and I do not want to be seen like this – even by bad guys.

I’d like to see a  female super-hero that is not some Hollywood version of  a well endowed hottie in a tasteless tight outfit.  A no-nonsense woman that doesn’t need to change into a costume to fight evil. And, she won’t put up with anyone’s crap, either.

I could be this superhero because I’m the farthest thing from a well endowed hottie, and I don’t even own a costume. (I do take crap occasionally – but only a bit.)

I want my superpowers to include:

  1. Invisibility  This way I would learn what was going on behind my back. This power would have been really handy when I was parenting teens.
  2. Super Strength  I would need to have a powerful force to stop nefarious characters in their tracks. This would help with the vacuuming situation also.
  3. Telekinesis  So I can move something when my hands are busy.  Combined with #2, this could be a powerful weapon.
  4. Psychic Ability  Be able to sense hidden emotion, agendas, and people who are lying (Another handy thing that parents of teens could use)
  5. Glamoring  That handy little tool vampires use to get their way and convince humans something did not happen that did. Or visa-verse. (Might be occasionally useful on hubby)

I do not want:

  • To fly  A fear of heights and flying do not mix.
  • Create fire  Hot flashes are bad enough, thank you.
  • To time travel  I could never understand that “time continuum” thing.
  • To carry a heavy object   No hammers or shields please. My purse is heavy enough.

Until I’m struck by lightning or hit by a rock from space, I will have to wait for my superhero status.

I will try to think up a good name while I’m waiting  😉

Strange Talk

Kansas Farmland

My parents both came from families that had many colorful interesting sayings & expressions. My father was born into a Kansas farm family. My mother was born into a West Virginia mountain coal-miner’s family. This makes my sister and I Hickabillies. For some reason we are proud of this.

The other day one of my father’s favorite words popped out of my mouth. I had not heard (or used) it in years. It’s funny how your subconscious mind stores things from childhood that you don’t even know you remember.

did·dly·squat (dĭdˈlē-skwŏtˌ) noun, Slang:  A small or worthless amount.

Origin of word:  Too insignificant to piss on. (I don’t know if that’s true, but it makes sense.)  Used in a sentence:  “I got diddly squat for my bonus this year”;

Dad drove us all crazy with this expression:  “We?? You got a turd in your pocket?” You might be saying “What???” to your screen.  I know, it’s a strange one. It took me months to get it, and  dad had to explain it to me (hey, I was a dumb kid!)

Grandma often hollered at us when we were being rambunctious; “Too much laughing always turns into crying!” Sis and I would just snicker and roll our eyes. And damn it all, she was right. Somehow during our giggling & carrying on somebody got pinched, poked or scraped and ended up crying. One day my sister’s precious Ooffy, her old stuffed dog’s head flew off.  Her scream reached decibels never heard before by human ears. Imagine a couple of screech owls, trapped in a metal barrel. That would have been music.

I remember it like it was last week. A mind-numbing horror to witness, especially for a five-year old. They only way to get her to calm down was promising her  Ooffy would have surgery to re-attach his head and he would be OK. Grandma took headless Ooffy into her bedroom and sewed him back together. Then bandaged him up. Whew! My sister still thinks it was my fault, 45 years later.

Not only was Grandma right, but her words of doom actually came out of my mouth last Saturday when my granddaughters were playing and giggling (quite loudly). They turned to me and said, “What???”  I simply rolled my eyes and said, “never mind”.

Not a minute later both of them were crying.


photo credit: Stuck in Customs via photopin cc