Tonight I needed a break from being too much in my head. I am making a presentation tomorrow morning at Southwest Regional Association of School Librarians and I'm nervous! I also am having a book signing at Barness & Noble from 2-4 tomorrow afternoon. It's great! All of it is just great! But, I am not an out in front sort of person by nature and these things are just a bit taxing for me. So, I retreated to Paris tonight.
On the way home from school (after being stopped by the longest train of all time not once, but twice in trying to get to my destination and then being kept from turning where I needed to by traffic backed up at that same train a third time!) I bought some new placemats with a bistro and bicycle motif, a couple new coffee mugs that say "l'amour" and a few groceries for my vegan French dinner for two.
I literally spent hours in the kitchen tonight to prepare French Onion Soup Tartines, Cucumber Gratin, and for dessert, Profiteroles (however you pronounce that). It was all lovely good. We ate late (for us) by the fireplace and listened to Jazz Radio's Paris Bistro station. We capped off the evening with Audrey Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart in Sabrina.
Romance is not dead. No matter what they say.
And now, back to work!
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Friday, July 8, 2011
Wherever You Go. . . There You Are
Because we're not staying in hotels, we have had all the comforts of home including full kitchens. We've eaten out plenty of times, but there are only so many meals you can sit down to in restaurants before they start becoming, well, less-than-special. So, we've shopped for groceries and cooked which has made mealtime in those cases seem pretty normal, except for the view.
We've roamed quite a lot, too, exploring some little towns we'd not been to before. In Minnesota, we experienced Lutsen, Grand Marais, White Bear Lake, and Rochester. In Missouri, we've discovered Clarksville, Louisianna, Elsberry and Hannibal (as well as some old favorites like St. Charles and St. Louis). We've walked rocky stretches of beach, two different breakwaters on Superior, a paved path through the north woods, a more rustic trail through another part of them, little town sidewalks and gravel alleys, grassy paths, and the river's ever-changing shoreline. In all, very reminiscent of what we do at home.
Today, rather than roam, we read. I finished one novel and started another. I've had times where I just wanted to sit down and write, too.
We laugh together about how some people would think our version of vacation is terribly boring. We laugh at ourselves at how similar to our "real lives" our vacation seems to be. And then we congratulate ourselves upon the reaffirmation that we are happy people who are happy in their lives together, because it seems that no matter where we go, there we are. And, we're okay with that.
Shellie
Friday, June 17, 2011
Lilacs and Lake Superior
We're packin' and laundryin' and all sorts of things in eager anticipation of our Minnesota trip. I can't wait to smell the lilacs; see the lake whether steely gray or brilliant blue; breathe and breathe and breathe that cool and clean air.
In the meantime, my copies of Love Under a Dark Sky have arrived and fellow author and shelf-sister this cycle with Avalon, Sandra Carey Cody, has graciously published an excerpt form my novel on her website. Appropriately, the scene takes place on the shore of Lake Superior. It seems Minnesota is my muse.
Sandra Carey Cody is an author whose newest Avalon novel, Left at Oz, is available now. Check out her site and while you're there, don't forget to look at the Guest Excerpt.
In the meantime, my copies of Love Under a Dark Sky have arrived and fellow author and shelf-sister this cycle with Avalon, Sandra Carey Cody, has graciously published an excerpt form my novel on her website. Appropriately, the scene takes place on the shore of Lake Superior. It seems Minnesota is my muse.
Sandra Carey Cody is an author whose newest Avalon novel, Left at Oz, is available now. Check out her site and while you're there, don't forget to look at the Guest Excerpt.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Dream a Little Dream
It's so important to dream dreams together. When Bruce and I were first married, we had some trouble visioning together (as I'm sure is true with any newly married couple). I, being the proactive type, tried to force it. I'd get pencil and paper and suggest we make lists together. Lists such as: the top five places in the world you want to see, the top ten places in the United States you'd like to go, states you've already been in, states you've never been in, an event you would like to catch someday.
As I was newly employed as a teacher and fairly buried in student loan debt and as Bruce and Luke had been a single-income family for years, we had very little money to play around with. Still, my philosophy is that if you don't plan now then you shouldn't expect to accomplish something later on. Even if it's ten dollars a month stuck away in the sock drawer in an envelope labeled "Paris", it's something toward that dream and you're ten dollars closer every month to seeing it realized.
In our case, "Paris" was Minnesota. It was do-able. If we saved back so much each month, we could actually realize a summer vacation the next year. It was a sacrifice (and still is sometimes even though student loans are all paid off), but putting money back from every paycheck keeps it always in front of us (as do the photos on the screen savers). We talk about Minnesota all year long. It's inspiring. We wonder what Lake Superior looks like in the dead of winter. We keep our eyes on the webcams in Duluth. We talk about how good a peanut butter sandwich tastes when eaten at a rest stop in Iowa on the way toward the Minnesota state line or on the way back home. We mentally stroll the streets, visit the sights, relive and renew the dream together. The word Minnesota has not only become a common term in our house, it has become a family member. It's our good friend, our counselor, our financial consultant. We weigh our desire to take that trip together against any other opportunities that come up and, so far, Minnesota always wins.
If we had taken the same money we've invested in these trips the last five years, we probably would have been able to schedule one dandy tour of Europe by now. But, I wouldn't trade June in Minnesota for that. There are too many memories, too many plans, too many pleasures, and too many dreams still to be dreamed together there.
What are you dreaming up with the one you love?
As I was newly employed as a teacher and fairly buried in student loan debt and as Bruce and Luke had been a single-income family for years, we had very little money to play around with. Still, my philosophy is that if you don't plan now then you shouldn't expect to accomplish something later on. Even if it's ten dollars a month stuck away in the sock drawer in an envelope labeled "Paris", it's something toward that dream and you're ten dollars closer every month to seeing it realized.
In our case, "Paris" was Minnesota. It was do-able. If we saved back so much each month, we could actually realize a summer vacation the next year. It was a sacrifice (and still is sometimes even though student loans are all paid off), but putting money back from every paycheck keeps it always in front of us (as do the photos on the screen savers). We talk about Minnesota all year long. It's inspiring. We wonder what Lake Superior looks like in the dead of winter. We keep our eyes on the webcams in Duluth. We talk about how good a peanut butter sandwich tastes when eaten at a rest stop in Iowa on the way toward the Minnesota state line or on the way back home. We mentally stroll the streets, visit the sights, relive and renew the dream together. The word Minnesota has not only become a common term in our house, it has become a family member. It's our good friend, our counselor, our financial consultant. We weigh our desire to take that trip together against any other opportunities that come up and, so far, Minnesota always wins.
If we had taken the same money we've invested in these trips the last five years, we probably would have been able to schedule one dandy tour of Europe by now. But, I wouldn't trade June in Minnesota for that. There are too many memories, too many plans, too many pleasures, and too many dreams still to be dreamed together there.
What are you dreaming up with the one you love?
Monday, May 2, 2011
Welcome to Joe's - Again!
God sure likes to pull a cherry out of the bag now and then! Talk about your unexpected delights! I had word today that Stained Glass Theatre wants to open their 2011-2012 theatre season with a reprise of my first play, Welcome to Joe's.
It's been something like seven years since it was first produced and I can still feel the thrill of it. I was so humbled by all the wonderful words people had to say about it and for years after I would hear things randomly from strangers at the next table in a restaurant or through someone who knew someone or from someone who had been loaned a copy of the dvd afterward. I was awestruck then that God could do such a thing and humbled that he'd chosen to allow me to be a part of it. Again, I have to say I'm completely humbled at the opportunity to do it again!
Just when you think something's over or you're worried that you'll never taste what you deem success again, God steps in and says, "Hey, chin up! I'm not finished with you yet."
For those of you who did not see Joe's in its first run, it's a romance (of course) with an evangelical message. The original cast was phenomenal and all of the direction and staging were stellar. I'm sure that the director this time, Tom Young who directed my second play, Related Spaces, a few years ago, will be terrific.
Thanks, SGT, for giving me this great pleasure again! I'm quite happy!
It's been something like seven years since it was first produced and I can still feel the thrill of it. I was so humbled by all the wonderful words people had to say about it and for years after I would hear things randomly from strangers at the next table in a restaurant or through someone who knew someone or from someone who had been loaned a copy of the dvd afterward. I was awestruck then that God could do such a thing and humbled that he'd chosen to allow me to be a part of it. Again, I have to say I'm completely humbled at the opportunity to do it again!
Just when you think something's over or you're worried that you'll never taste what you deem success again, God steps in and says, "Hey, chin up! I'm not finished with you yet."
For those of you who did not see Joe's in its first run, it's a romance (of course) with an evangelical message. The original cast was phenomenal and all of the direction and staging were stellar. I'm sure that the director this time, Tom Young who directed my second play, Related Spaces, a few years ago, will be terrific.
Thanks, SGT, for giving me this great pleasure again! I'm quite happy!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Life As I Know It - The Sequel
Today was the prologue for the next chapter in my life. I'm retiring from the classroom and today Shellie and I drove to the retirement office in Jefferson City to sign the official paperwork. Yes, I could have just sent them in, but we decided to make a day of it. After a very satisfactory and encouraging meeting with a young lady named Susan, papers all signed, we headed downtown for lunch. Shellie treated me to a delicious Thai meal at Chim's and then we decided to walk the area. We found shops, bookstores, and toured by the river, capitol, and governor's mansion. We saw bus load after bus load of children in the area. But as we weren't responsible for any of them, we could just smile and watch them having such a good time. It was a windy, cool, and thoroughly enjoyable day. On the road home, we stopped at a small town eatery for coffee and pie (peach cobbler, actually, with vanilla ice cream).
The apostle Paul writes that some have the gift of singleness. I guess I'm not one of them. I can't imagine entering into this next phase of my life without Shellie by my side. How often I see or hear something and just can't wait to share it with my wife. The joy shared isn't divided, it's multiplied. Just as we strolled the streets of the state capitol, so I plan to embark on the second half of my life, hand-in-hand with my partner, my love, and my friend.
Bruce
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Perfection
Yesterday was my 43rd birthday. I had bunches and bunches of happy wishes from family and friends and former students. I received some very sweet, unusual, thoughtful gifts. It was a good day. A very good day.
But, last night was wonderful. We started the evening with dinner at Farmers Gastropub, a local restaurant featuring locally available foods and, a rarity in Springfield, I'm afraid, one that offers actual vegetarian meals (by that I mean they are vegetarian on their own - not just something with the chicken left off of it). I had the Vegetarian Cassoulet with crusty, crunchy baguette and a salad with homemade honey dijon dressing. As a special treat, Askinosie's Chocolate Gatte for dessert. It was luxury on a plate. Decadent. Divine.
The Jane Monheit concert was fabulous. Ask Bruce and he can tell you without batting an eye that my favorite music is jazz and my favorite combination is a trio of piano, bass and drums. He also knows I'm a sucker for words - lyrics, poems, monologues - whatever. Words, words, words. Ms. Monheit's vocals were sultry, spunky and sumptuous. She performed many of the standards with her own personal style and plenty of scat. There was nothing I didn't love about the concert. The sweet swelling music and the sweeter still sentiments brought tears to my eyes there in the darkened theatre and I felt very much alive and so grateful for life and love and the thrill of romance.
I'm a fairly well disciplined person. I watch my diet, I exercise, I am faithful to my Creator and faithful to my spouse, loyal to my family and friends. I am careful to be temperate in all things. But, once in a while, indulgence in the sensuousness of rich food, sweet song, and soft kisses stolen in a lingering note sung on stage is. . . perfection.
But, last night was wonderful. We started the evening with dinner at Farmers Gastropub, a local restaurant featuring locally available foods and, a rarity in Springfield, I'm afraid, one that offers actual vegetarian meals (by that I mean they are vegetarian on their own - not just something with the chicken left off of it). I had the Vegetarian Cassoulet with crusty, crunchy baguette and a salad with homemade honey dijon dressing. As a special treat, Askinosie's Chocolate Gatte for dessert. It was luxury on a plate. Decadent. Divine.
The Jane Monheit concert was fabulous. Ask Bruce and he can tell you without batting an eye that my favorite music is jazz and my favorite combination is a trio of piano, bass and drums. He also knows I'm a sucker for words - lyrics, poems, monologues - whatever. Words, words, words. Ms. Monheit's vocals were sultry, spunky and sumptuous. She performed many of the standards with her own personal style and plenty of scat. There was nothing I didn't love about the concert. The sweet swelling music and the sweeter still sentiments brought tears to my eyes there in the darkened theatre and I felt very much alive and so grateful for life and love and the thrill of romance.
I'm a fairly well disciplined person. I watch my diet, I exercise, I am faithful to my Creator and faithful to my spouse, loyal to my family and friends. I am careful to be temperate in all things. But, once in a while, indulgence in the sensuousness of rich food, sweet song, and soft kisses stolen in a lingering note sung on stage is. . . perfection.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Random Bursts of Excitement
Last night I saw a news clip about the Aurora Borealis. I'm hoping so hard that we'll see it this summer, going farther north into Minnesota as we are. That and a moose - at a distance, mind you.
Those northern lights? They are kind of like the random bursts of excitement I feel when I realize Love Under a Dark Sky will be out there for people to read in just over a month. I forget about it because I'm working at Glendale, writing grant applications, trying to build collaborative relationships with colleagues, all the while keeping up housework, menu planning, grocery shopping, yoga practice, and on and on and on. Then, once in a while, my mind and heart just light up with the realization of the great blessings I've been given and that this, realizing the dream of being a published author, is one. And I'm renewed.
Those northern lights? They are kind of like the random bursts of excitement I feel when I realize Love Under a Dark Sky will be out there for people to read in just over a month. I forget about it because I'm working at Glendale, writing grant applications, trying to build collaborative relationships with colleagues, all the while keeping up housework, menu planning, grocery shopping, yoga practice, and on and on and on. Then, once in a while, my mind and heart just light up with the realization of the great blessings I've been given and that this, realizing the dream of being a published author, is one. And I'm renewed.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Holding Hands
I love holding hands. I have to admit, sometimes I feel a bit silly when I realize someone has noticed we're holding hands. They smile when they see they've been caught in the act of staring and they always have that "Awww - isn't that sweet" look on their faces. But, then I realize I should be (and am) very proud that I have a husband who is willing to hold hands in public. Of all the things our hands are busy with during the day - sorting papers, shelving books, hooking a leash, folding clothes, steering the car, swiping debit cards, tapping keyboards and keypads, and preparing meals, the simple gesture of offering one's hand in friendship, comfort, affection, and love is second only in significance to hands folded in prayer.
So, today, tickle your fingers together, clink those wedding rings, give in to the luxury of the touch of your true love's hand on your own.
So, today, tickle your fingers together, clink those wedding rings, give in to the luxury of the touch of your true love's hand on your own.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Thank You, Charles M. Schulz
When I met Bruce, the first thing I noticed about him (besides the fact that his last name was the same as someone I knew from college - but, that's another story) was that his shirt, a hunter green button-up, had a small, embroidered Joe Cool on the pocket. I didn't know he was an elementary teacher. I just knew that any man who could proudly wear clothes with the Peanuts characters on them had to be someone with an appreciation of the whimsical. Knowing him as I do now, that was an under-assumption of colossal proportion! Bruce not only appreciates whimsy, he creates it - every day. The joy of life surrounds him. He is amusing, light-hearted, quirky, clever (remind me to tell you the "As for me and my mouse" story sometime), and downright funny.
Me? I was always a very serious girl. I grew up with the tendency to smile easily and to get tickled at things I found really and truly funny; but a return to tears, worry, and sadness was just as quick. My imagination tended toward the serious rather than the silly. Because of this I could cry at the drop of a hat, fail to see any humor in a situation that had a hint of sadness in it, and get angry at people who didn't treat things I cared about with the same gravity I thought they deserved (okay, I still do that sometimes).
Knowing this, you might wonder how we ever got together. In answer, I refer you to Charles M. Schulz, creator of The Peanuts. (Are you seeing a trend here?) Come on, now. Two people, ages twenty-nine and thirty-nine respectively, who have had their shares of life's sorrows and come out on the other side a bit lonely, perhaps, but wiser for the trouble, who have managed to retain the joy of watching Charlie Brown try to kick that football year after year after year and who still laugh at lines like, "Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest" and scenes depicting a beagle boxing with lawn chairs belong together? It was meant to be!
I laughed at something today that I might not have laughed at years ago. I can thank my husband for encouraging that lighthearted spirit in me to grow. His humor has tempered my seriousness over the years. Yes, I still cry when I watch Snoopy, Come Home ("No dogs allowed. . ."). I'm not ashamed to say it. But, Bruce has lightened my load in life by leading me to laugh more easily and more often.
So, in tribute to the guffaw, I challenge you: find someplace private and do something utterly silly! Make a face. Sing a goofy song you remember from childhood. Put on a ridiculous outfit and parade up and down the room. Reenact a miserable scene from your workday with the part of you being played by Robin Williams or one of the Stooges or Carol Burnett. Let your snicker become a chuckle become a giggle become a chortle become a laugh!
And, if that doesn't work. . . start small. Check out Donald O'Connor's "Make 'em Laugh" routine from Singin' in the Rain.
Me? I was always a very serious girl. I grew up with the tendency to smile easily and to get tickled at things I found really and truly funny; but a return to tears, worry, and sadness was just as quick. My imagination tended toward the serious rather than the silly. Because of this I could cry at the drop of a hat, fail to see any humor in a situation that had a hint of sadness in it, and get angry at people who didn't treat things I cared about with the same gravity I thought they deserved (okay, I still do that sometimes).
Knowing this, you might wonder how we ever got together. In answer, I refer you to Charles M. Schulz, creator of The Peanuts. (Are you seeing a trend here?) Come on, now. Two people, ages twenty-nine and thirty-nine respectively, who have had their shares of life's sorrows and come out on the other side a bit lonely, perhaps, but wiser for the trouble, who have managed to retain the joy of watching Charlie Brown try to kick that football year after year after year and who still laugh at lines like, "Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest" and scenes depicting a beagle boxing with lawn chairs belong together? It was meant to be!
I laughed at something today that I might not have laughed at years ago. I can thank my husband for encouraging that lighthearted spirit in me to grow. His humor has tempered my seriousness over the years. Yes, I still cry when I watch Snoopy, Come Home ("No dogs allowed. . ."). I'm not ashamed to say it. But, Bruce has lightened my load in life by leading me to laugh more easily and more often.
So, in tribute to the guffaw, I challenge you: find someplace private and do something utterly silly! Make a face. Sing a goofy song you remember from childhood. Put on a ridiculous outfit and parade up and down the room. Reenact a miserable scene from your workday with the part of you being played by Robin Williams or one of the Stooges or Carol Burnett. Let your snicker become a chuckle become a giggle become a chortle become a laugh!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Don't Let it Pass Unnoticed
Spring is here. In case you hadn't noticed, the birds have returned. They twitter and chirrup and flutter about in my back yard, hop-hop-hopping from one corner to another, fluttering up unexpectedly. Over the top of the fence they go and down again like a clean sheet blown from the clothesline to land on the neighbor's lawn. Or, hadn't you noticed?
The forsythia, dogwood, tulip tree, privet, tulips, crocus, daffodils, and redbuds are brilliant along house fronts and curbs, ringing around the bases of trees and adorning walkways. I am anxious to take off my shoes and feel the grass underfoot again, soft and tender and cool; I want to walk across it in a slow zigzag and then loop around the tree, feeling the bark rough and wonderful under my hand.
I want to breathe it in, drink it up, give myself over to its luxury. I envy my little dog - she is so close to it all. The ant hill I may trample is not beneath her notice; she can chase a squirrel and not look a bit silly; she can stick her nose down into the grass to discover its scent and register the fragrance of the dirt. She can taste the rainwater that's collected in a low spot on the walkway without fear.
But, I must find my own ways to mark the season. To admire it, embrace it, celebrate it. I have no intention of letting a bit of it pass unnoticed. Spring is a poem sprung to life, God's coloring book, a grace note in the orchestration of seasons. It is feathers and fancy and freedom and finery. It is lace and luxury and lingering and love. Oh, let it be spring!
The forsythia, dogwood, tulip tree, privet, tulips, crocus, daffodils, and redbuds are brilliant along house fronts and curbs, ringing around the bases of trees and adorning walkways. I am anxious to take off my shoes and feel the grass underfoot again, soft and tender and cool; I want to walk across it in a slow zigzag and then loop around the tree, feeling the bark rough and wonderful under my hand.
I want to breathe it in, drink it up, give myself over to its luxury. I envy my little dog - she is so close to it all. The ant hill I may trample is not beneath her notice; she can chase a squirrel and not look a bit silly; she can stick her nose down into the grass to discover its scent and register the fragrance of the dirt. She can taste the rainwater that's collected in a low spot on the walkway without fear.
But, I must find my own ways to mark the season. To admire it, embrace it, celebrate it. I have no intention of letting a bit of it pass unnoticed. Spring is a poem sprung to life, God's coloring book, a grace note in the orchestration of seasons. It is feathers and fancy and freedom and finery. It is lace and luxury and lingering and love. Oh, let it be spring!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
The Walls of Jericho
Last night on our journey through AFI's top 100 romantic movies, we (re)watched It Happened One Night with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert. What a delight!
Now, if you're wondering what the title of this post has to do with anything, then I recommend you get a copy of the film (check your local library - that's where we got it) and plan an evening to curl up with a bowl of popcorn and enjoy the show! Then, once you've done that, you can write and tell me how right I was and thank me for suggesting a no-cost-to-you evening of wholesome, romantic, thoroughly enjoyable Hollywood magic.
You're welcome.
Now, if you're wondering what the title of this post has to do with anything, then I recommend you get a copy of the film (check your local library - that's where we got it) and plan an evening to curl up with a bowl of popcorn and enjoy the show! Then, once you've done that, you can write and tell me how right I was and thank me for suggesting a no-cost-to-you evening of wholesome, romantic, thoroughly enjoyable Hollywood magic.
You're welcome.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
To Drive to the Country, Perchance to Eat Pie
Bruce and I are known for doing things like this, so if you know us you won't be a bit surprised to learn that we drove to Golden City today to eat at a place called Cooky's because we heard they have great pie. The tales were true. And, the pie alone would have made the drive well worth it (not to mention the calories it cost me). But, there was so much more to our drive through the countryside.
Our son recently told his dad, "It's a good thing you two found each other." Hidden meaning: you're both weird and no one else would put up with either of you. He's probably right. Today, I had a blast enumerating the animals I saw that I don't see on a daily basis:
Our son recently told his dad, "It's a good thing you two found each other." Hidden meaning: you're both weird and no one else would put up with either of you. He's probably right. Today, I had a blast enumerating the animals I saw that I don't see on a daily basis:
- cows
- goats
- sheep
- mule
- chickens
- horses
- buffalo
We saw land as flat as that through Iowa and, though we've lived in Missouri all our lives, we didn't know we had areas so flat through the southwest part of the state. We looked through flea markets in three little towns along the way and stopped at Coffee Guru for cup of joe.
It was wonderful to get away, just that hour or so out of town, to take in the wonderful, pastoral view; to pick up those interesting and old things in the shops, inspect them and consider them; to savor the rich and complex flavors of coffees and German chocolate pie; to hold hands and exchange smiles; to recall song lyrics and movie lines as we drove; to laugh at and appreciate the whimsical nature of someone in Greenfield, Missouri who had painted a door on the house to look like the TARDIS; to add this day to the stockpile of memories of other lovely days spent together, of little towns we've driven to, little sites we've seen, little experiences we've shared that remind us of who we are as individuals, who we are together, and why we're still in love.
(NOTE: I did try to get a picture of the TARDIS, but there was no shoulder on the highway through there and, though Bruce did try for me, I couldn't get a clear shot without actually crossing a very deep ditch and walking up the hill and onto their property)
Monday, March 21, 2011
You Know He Loves You When
he doesn't flinch at kissing you after watching you eat roasted garlic at Ermilio's;
he laughs and shuts off the car when you decide you'd better pay a visit to the Ladies' at the gas station after all;
he not only notices and appreciate how you walk (dress, talk, present yourself), but tells you so;
he listens to you read about something called Phantom petunias from Better Homes and Gardens and actually looks at the picture you're pointing to;
he doesn't act defensive or huffy when it turns out you're right about something;
he puts off having a Krispy Kreme doughnut until a day when you think you have more calories to spare and can enjoy one, too;
he says he likes life with you and you know he means it.
he laughs and shuts off the car when you decide you'd better pay a visit to the Ladies' at the gas station after all;
he not only notices and appreciate how you walk (dress, talk, present yourself), but tells you so;
he listens to you read about something called Phantom petunias from Better Homes and Gardens and actually looks at the picture you're pointing to;
he doesn't act defensive or huffy when it turns out you're right about something;
he puts off having a Krispy Kreme doughnut until a day when you think you have more calories to spare and can enjoy one, too;
he says he likes life with you and you know he means it.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
September
I've been waiting for today. Just to say, "It is September" is a relief. Though we would be fooling ourselves to say it is fall now, it is fall enough for now. After all, it is September.
September is poetry and it is soup in crockery bowls; it is dog-eared novels we've read so many times the edges of the pages are thick and it is homemade bread. September is a bouquet of bliss and blessings, a bundle of bright hopes tied with the ribbons of sentimentality. September is being in the moment, standing in the sun and breathing in deep. It is sneaking in a tiny thought of the holidays that are coming and then hurrying back to today before you're lost in tomorrow.
September is a time for love and romance. If you haven't anyone to woo in your life, then by all means, let September woo you! Give in to it. It feels great. There's no guilt in the guilty pleasures of September. Set the table with real dishes, lay a cloth napkin in your lap, light a candle on your table and invite Cyrus Chestnut, Vince Guaraldi, Michael Franks, or even Garrison Keillor to dine with you. I can promise you will feel warmed on the inside for having been in their company. There's simply no excuse for not being in love in September.
September is poetry and it is soup in crockery bowls; it is dog-eared novels we've read so many times the edges of the pages are thick and it is homemade bread. September is a bouquet of bliss and blessings, a bundle of bright hopes tied with the ribbons of sentimentality. September is being in the moment, standing in the sun and breathing in deep. It is sneaking in a tiny thought of the holidays that are coming and then hurrying back to today before you're lost in tomorrow.
September is a time for love and romance. If you haven't anyone to woo in your life, then by all means, let September woo you! Give in to it. It feels great. There's no guilt in the guilty pleasures of September. Set the table with real dishes, lay a cloth napkin in your lap, light a candle on your table and invite Cyrus Chestnut, Vince Guaraldi, Michael Franks, or even Garrison Keillor to dine with you. I can promise you will feel warmed on the inside for having been in their company. There's simply no excuse for not being in love in September.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Eat Your Heart Out Fraulein Maria!
Holding hands with my honey while we stroll around the neighborhood.
Strolling around the neighborhood with my honey and liking that he notices that when I walk I tend to be looking up and around while he tends to look down and around - I keep him from missing gorgeous cloud formations or the first colored leaf on the block; he keeps me from tripping on the uneven sidewalk or stepping on a caterpillar.
He always makes sure he has a quarter in his pocket when we go to the mall because he knows I'm a bubble gum junkie.
He sings a lot. Sometimes I know the song. Many times I don't. I've learned some silly songs from him that are mine now, too. And, sometimes when he sings I join in and he stops and says: "Did I say this was a duet?" Silly man.
He will watch It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown with me in the middle of summer if I ask him to.
We can be in different parts of a store and both zero in on a stupid song lyric playing overhead. When we meet up again, we almost inevitably ask, "Did you hear that song?"
He is a genius at making up jokes. I mean a real genius. I almost always know when he's setting one up, but it's not very often I figure it out. I groan LOUDLY when he tells me the punchline and he laughs that he can still "get" me.
Dancing in the living room.
Dancing in the kitchen.
Including the dog in a "group hug".
He tells me I look pretty and I believe he thinks I do.
He knows I'm going to cry at the same parts of the same old movies and he waits for it. He also knows when I'm going to cry in a movie we've not seen before and I catch him glancing at me in the dark theatre to see if he's right. He doesn't cry, but he doesn't make me feel funny about the fact that I do.
He likes that I'm tenderhearted.
He believes that if I had to I could survive without him, but he still does things for me that I could do myself just out of niceness. I don't remember the last time I pumped gas myself, but I do remember how.
He never lets me open my own car door. Never.
He stacks the clean towels so that he gets the rattier ones.
He makes the bed.
People who know us expect us to be together. When they see one of us in public they look around to find the other. Usually, they succeed.
We can go to the Library on a weekend night and joke about what losers we are. We don't really believe it, though. Well, not for that reason anyway.
He likes how I've decorated our home. He says it's our sanctuary. When he arrives home from work, he says, "Welcome to civility." I can't think of a higher compliment he could give me.
He lets me say, "I love you," to him a hundred times a day.
He tells me he loves me, too.
Thanks, Bruce.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Bring Back the Silliness!
Groucho has to be one of the greatest romantic heroes. Who can resist that greasepaint moustache and those waggling eyebrows? Not to mention the cigar. Silliness aside (well, that's impossible as long as we're talking about the Marx Brothers), I do love the films. And, formulaic though they may be, there are certain aspects I always look forward to and others I always laugh at - and heartily, just like the first time. I love to watch Chico play the piano. Harpo's harp playing is enchanting. I can't help myself when Harpo tries to explain through whistling and gestures to Chico that Groucho is being duped by a woman (though, Natalie could do without that - we've discovered she runs from the television whenever there's a screaming monkey and whenever Harpo does his thing). But, then, there's the inevitable wooing of Margaret Dumont. Whatever characters they play, the wooing is always the same.
Where has all the wooing gone? Swallowed up in sophistication and sobriety. Where's the silliness? I mean, after all, what in life can't benefit from a little silliness? It's terribly romantic. Think how great you feel when you laugh.
So, there's my prescription for the summer blahs: see Dr. Hackenbush for a healthy dose of absurdity and kiss me in the morning!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Ah, Audrey
Do you and your loved one have a song? Ours is The Street Where You Live from My Fair Lady. It's the show Bruce took me to see on the night he first kissed me. Ahhh.
We laugh at the line in Sleepless in Seattle: "You don't want to be in love. You want to be in love in a movie." Well, who doesn't? Swelling music. Carefully crafted words. Beautiful scenery. Gorgeous costumes. And people who look like Audrey Hepburn. Ah, Audrey. If I could look like anyone at all besides myself it would be Audrey.
Last night we went to see My Fair Lady at the Gillioz. I was a little concerned because during the overture the man down the row from me was whistling along and humming and going "bomp, bomp, bomp" along with the tunes. But, as Audrey always does, she worked her magic from the screen and he hushed, swallowed up by beauty.
I think that perhaps my favorite Audrey movie is Roman Holiday. She even looks terrific with short short hair. Then, there's Breakfast at Tiffany's which, I have to admit, I did not like at all the first time I saw it. But, I tried it again and also saw it at an outdoor theater in Eureka Springs where they had an Audrey lookalike contest (okay, the entrants were mostly men, but when you're trying to be Audrey you can carry it off - maybe).
I read once that her son said Audrey always took an afternoon nap and when she awoke ate one small piece of chocolate. How lovely. How genteel. How Audrey.
The movie last night got me thinking about how there's not really a clear definition or universally accepted image of feminine anymore. We're very casual. I am very casual. But, when you see those old movies, doesn't something in you just yearn to put on a string of pearls and a dress? To walk like you're carrying a teacup on top of your head? To laugh politely and say things like "charming"? Not that I want to give up all the advances we've earned as women, but once in a while it would be nice to feel like Audrey looks. Utterly feminine. Dewey, sweet, romantic. I think it would be charming.
We laugh at the line in Sleepless in Seattle: "You don't want to be in love. You want to be in love in a movie." Well, who doesn't? Swelling music. Carefully crafted words. Beautiful scenery. Gorgeous costumes. And people who look like Audrey Hepburn. Ah, Audrey. If I could look like anyone at all besides myself it would be Audrey.
Last night we went to see My Fair Lady at the Gillioz. I was a little concerned because during the overture the man down the row from me was whistling along and humming and going "bomp, bomp, bomp" along with the tunes. But, as Audrey always does, she worked her magic from the screen and he hushed, swallowed up by beauty.
I think that perhaps my favorite Audrey movie is Roman Holiday. She even looks terrific with short short hair. Then, there's Breakfast at Tiffany's which, I have to admit, I did not like at all the first time I saw it. But, I tried it again and also saw it at an outdoor theater in Eureka Springs where they had an Audrey lookalike contest (okay, the entrants were mostly men, but when you're trying to be Audrey you can carry it off - maybe).
I read once that her son said Audrey always took an afternoon nap and when she awoke ate one small piece of chocolate. How lovely. How genteel. How Audrey.
The movie last night got me thinking about how there's not really a clear definition or universally accepted image of feminine anymore. We're very casual. I am very casual. But, when you see those old movies, doesn't something in you just yearn to put on a string of pearls and a dress? To walk like you're carrying a teacup on top of your head? To laugh politely and say things like "charming"? Not that I want to give up all the advances we've earned as women, but once in a while it would be nice to feel like Audrey looks. Utterly feminine. Dewey, sweet, romantic. I think it would be charming.
Friday, January 29, 2010
What to Do?
Oh, it's agony! Starting something, setting it aside. Starting something else, thinking better of the first, setting it aside and going back. Deciding it's not so great after all and bogging down to do nothing. What's to do? Watch Dr. Who, I guess. In the name of inspiration, of course.
The other day I had a brilliant idea for a new book, so I set aside the one I'd written a chapter on and never gotten back to. The new idea produced a whopping one paragraph. It's a week later now. Ugh! I think my muse has been captured by an evil alien empire and is being held captive in an icy world somewhere. Doctor! Help!
Seriously, though, it's part of the process. Not a pretty part, but a part nonetheless. I try not to get too upset by it because it always works out fine in the end. I think that, just like with life, the hard parts, the parts when you feel like you're in a holding pattern, those are the parts that produce character. In this case, I just hope that character is a best-selling romantic heroine - or something like that. Sometimes I wish I was smart enough to write sci-fi or at least a good mystery. My brain just doesn't work that way, though, even though I enjoy reading them.
I heard from one of the new editors at Avalon today and my newest (complete) manuscript is "still very much on the radar" with them; however, with the turnover in personnel and high volume of submissions they are running behind. So, fingers crossed - still. In the meantime, I do have another book signing scheduled. This one is at Barnes & Noble on February 6th from 11-1. I'm looking forward to it. It's to feature other local authors; I thought it was so nice to be invited! This time the bookstore is providing the books for sale, so it won't be a consignment sort of thing like it was at Borders. Makes me feel professional.
January slipped by without any suggestions from me for romantic things to do. Anyone out there have any winter romance ideas? February, of course, boasts Valentine's Day - a natural for romance. But what do you do that helps you find beauty and lead the romantic life this cold, cold season? Let me hear from you!
Stay warm!
Shellie
The other day I had a brilliant idea for a new book, so I set aside the one I'd written a chapter on and never gotten back to. The new idea produced a whopping one paragraph. It's a week later now. Ugh! I think my muse has been captured by an evil alien empire and is being held captive in an icy world somewhere. Doctor! Help!
Seriously, though, it's part of the process. Not a pretty part, but a part nonetheless. I try not to get too upset by it because it always works out fine in the end. I think that, just like with life, the hard parts, the parts when you feel like you're in a holding pattern, those are the parts that produce character. In this case, I just hope that character is a best-selling romantic heroine - or something like that. Sometimes I wish I was smart enough to write sci-fi or at least a good mystery. My brain just doesn't work that way, though, even though I enjoy reading them.
I heard from one of the new editors at Avalon today and my newest (complete) manuscript is "still very much on the radar" with them; however, with the turnover in personnel and high volume of submissions they are running behind. So, fingers crossed - still. In the meantime, I do have another book signing scheduled. This one is at Barnes & Noble on February 6th from 11-1. I'm looking forward to it. It's to feature other local authors; I thought it was so nice to be invited! This time the bookstore is providing the books for sale, so it won't be a consignment sort of thing like it was at Borders. Makes me feel professional.
January slipped by without any suggestions from me for romantic things to do. Anyone out there have any winter romance ideas? February, of course, boasts Valentine's Day - a natural for romance. But what do you do that helps you find beauty and lead the romantic life this cold, cold season? Let me hear from you!
Stay warm!
Shellie
Sunday, December 20, 2009
It's a Wonderful Life
This week was a mix of fun and frustration. The kids are so ready to be out of school that teaching was like tangling with a tiger. Especially with the younger students. I was ever so glad to see Friday come! With just two more work days before Christmas Break I think I can make it. That was the frustration.
The fun took several forms. . .
On Thursday I was the guest speaker at Parkview High School's Viking Readers Club. I think that was probably the most fun I'd had with the book since I heard it was going to be published. I was pretty nervous about it, but had a great time once I got there. They were so polite and laughed and asked tons of questions. It was great. I was so honored to be asked and so pleased with how it went. Thanks to Gail Eubanks and the Viking Readers!
I also got to have some fun Christmas shopping for Natalie! What a blast to pick out toys and little Christmas-shaped treats for her stocking. I told her that she has two presents under the tree, but I won't tell her which ones because I'm sure she'd peek while we're at work.
Tonight Bruce and I had our annual weekend before Christmas fireside supper. I made Polenta Lasagna (individual portions in some of my milk glass Fire King dishes) and we had pretty Italian cut green beans and some very yummy 3-cheese Artisan bread (they sell something called a "petite loaf" at Dillons and it was just right for a special occasion). I hadn't decided what kind of dessert to make and that was fine because my mother turned up with some oh, so good peanut butter cake for us and we saved it for tonight. Had some Peppermint Patty coffee and watched It's a Wonderful Life. The only thing different this year was having Natalie there, but I just put a little sprinkling of cheese on her food for a festive touch and put a matching placemat down by us so she could have her Christmas supper, too.
Speaking of Natalie, she's the reason I'm blogging at 3:30 in the morning. One of those rare, but insistent need-to-go-out-in-the-middle-of-the-night nights. That was an hour and a half ago, but I just couldn't get back to sleep. Emailed a couple of friends, payed a couple of bills and am heading back in to sit by the fire and read a Dave Barry book.
If this week proves to be anything like last, you might not hear from me again until the new year, so have a blessed Christmas. Remember Jesus!
Shellie
The fun took several forms. . .
On Thursday I was the guest speaker at Parkview High School's Viking Readers Club. I think that was probably the most fun I'd had with the book since I heard it was going to be published. I was pretty nervous about it, but had a great time once I got there. They were so polite and laughed and asked tons of questions. It was great. I was so honored to be asked and so pleased with how it went. Thanks to Gail Eubanks and the Viking Readers!
I also got to have some fun Christmas shopping for Natalie! What a blast to pick out toys and little Christmas-shaped treats for her stocking. I told her that she has two presents under the tree, but I won't tell her which ones because I'm sure she'd peek while we're at work.
Tonight Bruce and I had our annual weekend before Christmas fireside supper. I made Polenta Lasagna (individual portions in some of my milk glass Fire King dishes) and we had pretty Italian cut green beans and some very yummy 3-cheese Artisan bread (they sell something called a "petite loaf" at Dillons and it was just right for a special occasion). I hadn't decided what kind of dessert to make and that was fine because my mother turned up with some oh, so good peanut butter cake for us and we saved it for tonight. Had some Peppermint Patty coffee and watched It's a Wonderful Life. The only thing different this year was having Natalie there, but I just put a little sprinkling of cheese on her food for a festive touch and put a matching placemat down by us so she could have her Christmas supper, too.
Speaking of Natalie, she's the reason I'm blogging at 3:30 in the morning. One of those rare, but insistent need-to-go-out-in-the-middle-of-the-night nights. That was an hour and a half ago, but I just couldn't get back to sleep. Emailed a couple of friends, payed a couple of bills and am heading back in to sit by the fire and read a Dave Barry book.
If this week proves to be anything like last, you might not hear from me again until the new year, so have a blessed Christmas. Remember Jesus!
Shellie
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