Marriage

Ouch
A few weeks ago LG confided in me that he had fallen in the shower.
He had a boo-boo and I wasn’t very sympathetic.
“How old are you?” I asked. “70?”

Then, just days later, I fell in the shower

and he was so sweet about it.
I did fall way more violently
as there were cleaning agents and a trash can involved
but still.
Sometimes I know I got the better end of the deal.
I am so glad that there are those times
to even out the ones when I wonder
what the heck I was thinking.
Love you LG!
And I hope we got our falling out of our systems.
Because if this happens when we are 70 or more
one of us is going to end up in the nursing home.

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Even more disturbing than the bruise….
my triple chin.

Meet Me At Mid-Day My Dear.
Another poem for the love of my life.
Feel free to eavesdrop or ignore.

  Funny sidenote:
LG does not have a poetic bone in his body.
I was just translating this poem for him.
He says, “where our bodies can entwine, what does that mean?”
Then I showed him entwined fingers
while asking him if I needed to pull out a dictionary.

He says, “Our bodies entwine every night.”
I said, I know.
Don’t you get it?
All this whole poem is saying
is
Come home at lunch time and have sex with me.

Now, after barely browsing the poem the first time
all the sudden he is interested and even excited about it.
Men!
I work on this poem for an hour
and all he even hears is the last three words of my explanation of it.
sex with me.

He is now trying to fight me off the computer so he
can read the poem with an all new perspective.

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I am best at bed-time,
you at waking dawn.
When my energy is greatest,
yours snores at your dreams.
The sun rises to your heartbeat,
while mine is perfectly at rest.
Meet me at Mid-Day my dear
when our bodies can entwine.
You are such a thinker,
and I just dream away.
You understand the abstracts,
 I, only concretes.
Gravity draws you closer,
and magnetizes me to you.
Meet me at Mid-Day my dear
when our minds collaborate.
You are tall and strong.
I just tremble in your arms.
Masculinity is regal,
femininity divine.
You talk of now and later.
I reminisce of past.
Meet me at Mid-Day my dear
where marriage is ours.
You struggle to express
what I communicate in excess.
You make me feel complete
as your hidden feelings fill my thoughts.
I know you love me dear,
and you know I always want you near.
Meet me at Mid-Day my dear
where our hearts are as one.
Defeat afflicts my torment,
I hope you understand.
Instead of advising or fixing,
you hold my hand and cry.
Knowing that you share my anguish,
is all I need to try again.
Meet me at Mid-day my dear,
so we can endure together.
Wednesday is my favorite
but any day will do.
The sun at its highest
or better yet, with rain.
Before or after lunch,
but definitely in bed.
Meet me at mid-day my dear,
where our love unites.

Lyrics with Lessons

I recently really enjoyed this post by Cameron Smithson. Cameron used a great song to prove his point that if you want to be loved, you need to give love. You can love without being loved, but it sure does work better when it goes both ways.

Cameron was a Mormon missionary in Knoxville when we lived there and he came from my parts of California, so of course we fed him often. I’ve loved getting to know Elder Smithson as a person instead of just a missionary through his facebook and blog.

If you happen to cross paths with a Mormon missionary, I encourage you to ask them about their love for the Savior Jesus Christ. It may surprise you how close 19 year old kids can be to the Master himself.

In the LDS culture, we often play the do you know game. Well guess what I recently discovered about Cameron? His uncle is the wave at the bus guy I told you about a while back. Cameron’s aunt and mom left me some sweet comments after making the connection on facebook. Thanks guys.

When I told LG about Cameron’s kin all he said was, “Why is it no surprise that Smithson is related?” That was said in the highest complimentary way, of course. What cool people!!! It’s the California connection.

Anyhow, Cameron got me thinking about, how, I, like him, love songs with good lessons.

Lately this has been one of my fav’s.

I would like to dedicate this song to my husband
who is learning the other important life lesson about love.
You don’t have to earn love.
You don’t even have to be perfect to be loved.
In fact I think love is
almost received to a greater depth
when people are at their worst
because that’s when they need it the most.

LG, you are perfect to me.
Even at your worst.

Another one of my favorite lyrics is:

All you need is love.

I was really bummed yesterday
when President Monson
alluded to the fact
that it isn’t true
when talking about the
60’s hippy movement.
Bummer.

We love music around here.
Remember how I used Sarah McLaughlin’s lyrics
to make these adorable framed photographs in my dining room?

What are your favorite lyrics with lessons?

Happy Mail
You’ve heard of snail mail,
E-mail,
junk mail,
and even birthday mail.
I want you to know about my new discovery.
Happy Mail.

Happy mail is what I send to

my hubby from time to time.
I like to help him get through his work day,
and remember what he is working for.
Can’t wait until our next getaway.
The alone time we had on the beach
in California last month
was totally completely awesome.

Sharing Fortune
LeGrand took me for the yummy Chinese lunch buffet today.
He ordered me an additional dish
of my favorite walnut shrimp.
On top of the all you can eat buffet.
Just because it’s my favorite
and it wasn’t part of the buffet.
Now, that’s true love.
When it came time to pick a fortune, 
I felt equally drawn to both.
And when we opened and read, I realized why.
They applied universally.

We share.

Fortunes because they apply equally.
Moments because they are ours.
Secrets because we don’t want to share them with anyone else.
Intimacies because even being naked isn’t close enough.
Thoughts because we honor one another’s opinions.
Feelings because we want to be close.
Disappointments because they are easier 
when you have a hand to hold.
Triumphs because we did it together.
Congratulations because we both deserve recognition.
Children because they are our greatest creation.
Love because there’s no other word.
Belief because we believe we are a small part of a great plan.
Money because you earn it and hand it over.
Clothes because sometimes your shirt is just more comfortable.
Toilets because we’ve got stories.
Cars because you let me drive and I change the oil.
Food because two entrees are better than one.
Pets because you bring them home and I feed them.
Parents because yours and mine are ours.
Music because we dance.
Beds because your always warm.
Traditions because we combined our pasts.
and
Futures because they are intertwined.
Sharing is best.
Sharing is fun.
Sharing is growth.
Sharing is double.
Sharing is joy.
Sharing is bliss.
Sharing is necessary.
Sharing is right.
Sharing is our great fortune.
I love you my better half and best friend. 
14 more decades sounds still not long enough.
Happy Anniversary to the man with whom I share everything.

Hole in One
Dear LeGrand,
I want you to know that I count every one of my memories with you as sacred.
I wouldn’t be whole without them
and I don’t ever want to live without you.

I swung the club
and off it sailed.
So far away,
it was hard to eye.

But it only took you
for me to see
that my shot
was off by a mile.

In the woods,
we went and searched,
and laughed
until we cried.

We suck,
we lamented.
My game was so bad.
Irrelevant.

Our par didn’t matter
we were intoxicated
just you and me
experiencing a first.

We shot ball after ball
and finally got one
over the river
instead of in it.

Years ago,
we were on that course
in St George
and I will never forget.

Your smile
and your laugh
and your patience
and your love.

When reflecting
I know for certain
I got the most important
hole in one.

I love you LeGrand. Happy Birthday.
I can’t wait to have many many more firsts with you.

Father’s Day Nots

I may not be able to tell you what you should buy for your dad/hubby for Father’s Day, but I can tell you what NOT to buy.

My hubby, LG, was checking out Amazon’s list of Father’s Day sale items and gave me the low down.

Here was his strongest reaction.

Tupperware? Tupperware! Tupperware?! Show me one dad in the universe that would want Tupperware for Father’s Day.

Knives are just a tad bit better, but seriously? Who is running this website? Every metrosexual homosexual girly stay-home dad they could find?

Hmm. Robotic lawnmower. (said in a non-emotional voice)

Me: I thought you would love that?

LG: Oh yeah, that is cool. I would love that.

My man would also love that metal detector. It’s a gadget. Anything gadget is beyond good. We decided that Ikea is the best store ever for a date-night because it combines a man’s love for gadget with a woman’s love for decor and beauty. He would also love the flatscreen or the wireless wireless forecast station.

Looking at the list this morning, I don’t need my man to give me his two cents to instantly pick out other items that would be a bust at my house: lava lamp (he is 35 now), Jalepeno Rack (what the crap is that?), the turkey fryer (he wouldn’t even be able to try it out until November), the picture frames (he doesn’t love us that much), Desktop Humidor (I know we are kind of less than cultured but what is that? Is it just that I am a Mormon. Is a Humidor where a man keeps his cigars? I seriously don’t know), the white dinky office chair (he’s a man people, he wants a real chair), and last but certainly not least, the gnome (what kind of fathers day message does that send…you are so…um…round in the middle).

If I HAD to buy from Amazon, I would go with the hammock on the second page. Or the robotic lawn mower. I would maybe even entertain the idea of the outdoor food smoker (if the man actually EVER cooked anything in his life).

Since the lawnmower is 800 fat ones and the metal detector is 849 and the flat screen is only 42″, I guess I am going to have to go with my first and best idea: vienna sausages.

I try to buy the man some kind of sausage for every holiday and the little metal can will take him right down  memory lane. He was telling the girls just yesterday about when he was a kid he loved his Saturday adventures. He would load up his backpack with everything he needed (food, water, toilet paper) and head out for an adventure on his bike. He would be gone all day looking for abandoned building out in the forest. For some reason that he can’t explain, his food always included vienna sausages. Gross.

This year, I am packing a backpack full of vienna sausages and taking the man on an adventure for Father’s Day. I might even give him the ultimate gift. I might even eat one of the sausages. Or not.

Or I may have to rethink the whole holiday by shopping at America’s true manly man store.

Walmart here I come.

 I would never want to disappoint this man. Look at him. He’s the best daddy ever.

This article was first published and filled with useless links as Father’s Day Nots on Blogcritics.

Although I was honored for my post to be chosen for publishing, 
I am not sure if I will ever enter another post for their review in the future
as it brought me no hits and it seems that the whole point of Blogcritics
is to use others’ writing to shamelessly earn income for themselves.

Radio Turn On Buttons
I just want to share with you the conversation my husband and I shared the other day. I had been chatting with him while he was at work. I was asking him how to view the properties of a picture that I minimized. I couldn’t figure out the pixel amount. He told me to make sure the pixel radio was selected.
Me: Pixel Radio. What’s that? I see this pixel button, but where does a radio come in?
LG: Oh, they call that button a radio button.
Me: Why?
LG: Because it’s like the old-school radio, you can only select one button at a time.
Me: huh?
LG: Don’t you remember the old school radio?
Me: faintly.
I got the job done with the help of my personal on-line tech support team. We then got off chat.
I immediately received an e-mail with this photo.
Oh the joy of technology.
I chuckled.
And returned it with this short e-mail:
I am so glad you are finding the time to entertain yourself and enlighten me at the same time. It’s a gadget thing.
He then replied back again:
I’m here to serve.

I then said
You make me horny.

He then replied back again:
Easy, I have co-workers walking in and out of my office.

I am glad I can have that effect.
And then he got really risqué with:
Maybe since I sent you a picture to explain what I meant you need to do the same 😉

I never responded back. And I am not just saying that because his boss may read this someday.

So, fast forward, the other day we were out working in the yard.
There are these metal things sticking up from the concrete patio and they make me nervous that the kids are going to hurt themselves. I finally took matter into my own hands.

“LG, where’s the sledgehammer?”

He had no idea. I quickly searched the shed and fetched it.

He was working on some weeds close-by when I came back and took the sledgehammer to the metal.
With two swift swings I had solved the issue.

LG exclaims,
“I now get how that radio e-mail made you horny.
That was most definitely a turn on.”

We are so silly.

I love his mind.
He loves my brute strength.

How bliss are we?

Pretty bliss.
We were especially bliss on the day this photo was taken. 
It marked the end of our marriage focusing on higher education for 11 years.
So, we could have more time for the turn on buttons.

I Feel E Beautiful

When people search the lyrics to the song I’m So Pretty on google, they must be surprised when they are brought to this old post which was titled with the words to a great Broadway song I Feel Pretty. It’s one of my favorite songs of all time.

I thought that the words said “I’m so pretty and witty and wise”, but after listening to the above mash up, I realize that I was mistaken, it’s really “I’m so pretty and witty and bright.” I like wise better, but really isn’t it the same thing?

This song has a great message and I wish to share it. Everyone should feel pretty. They should always feel pretty. Even without make-up or the latest fashions or any admirers to tell them so. I think although sometimes I feel fat, I have always felt pretty. I am not saying this to brag, but it’s true, I’m pretty. I am not drop dead gorgeous, but I don’t think I am hard on the eyes. Do other people even think about stuff like this? Am I just sounding like a total freak right now?

My sister came to visit this past weekend and she complained that I have such great skin while she still struggles with acne. She also told me that I better hurry and dye my grey hair. To try and counteract the hair comment, she said, “Alice, I wish I had as pretty of a face that you do.” Funny, I just want her marathon running body to go with my already gorgeous face. I guess this stems from so many people telling me that it was o.k. that I was fat because I have such a beautiful face. Hate on me haters. Seriously, they started telling me that at a young age. I guess I am a living testament to the power of complimentary behavior. I have always felt beautiful. (I have also always felt fat)

When LG and I were engaged, we were encouraged to take the this compatibility test at BYU before getting married the ten days later that we did. It was the worst thing we ever did for our marriage. We were told that we were compatible. (Hello, we already knew that) But, one of the questions of the test has been detrimental to LG and I both for years. It was:

Rate your potential partner’s looks.
a)ugly
b)below average
c)average
d)above average
e)beautiful

I chose C. LG chose D. When going over our results, I was heartbroken. I wanted to be E beautiful and I let him have it. Every girl should feel that their spouse thinks they are E beautiful. It still comes up from time to time. LG always defends himself that D (pretty) is perfectly great and that I said he was only C (average) and no one ever hears him complain.

There is no moral to this post. It’s more of the rambling type. I do think that there is power in the mind and that we should all be kind to ourselves. I am glad that I feel pretty. Now I am just going to work on feeling happy with the body that I have or do something to change it. I think I never really worry about it because even though I feel fat, I think that fat can still be pretty. In fact, fat can be E beautiful. Just look at the link below.

Even though this blogger has never acknowledged my existence, I am still going to send you to yet another one of her posts. It’s about body image. It’s awesome. And the women of Ghana would probably never call themselves fat. Maybe I should start there.

And if the post above doesn’t make you ready for bathing suit season, try this old post of mine.