Here's a story. . .

Of a lovely lady, who was bringing up three very lovey girls.

Whoops!  That’s not my story.  Sorry!


Let me tell you about something special in my life.

Twenty-two years ago, in August of 1989, I met a cute guy when I took a part time job at a grocery store.  I was finishing my last semester at college before I was to start student teaching.

I was a cashier and office “gal” and he did everything including bagging, cleaning, stocking, and other grocery store stuff.

This young man and I became friends while chatting on breaks or while he’d bag at my checkout lane.  We'd talk for a long time when he'd walk me to my car after our shifts to make sure I was safe.  We discussed music, movies, cars, our families, and our lives in general.

I started to think that maybe he “liked” me.  You know, boys in school pulling your ponytail “like.”  I decided that I’d ask him if he wanted to see the latest “Nightmare on Elm Street” movie (my treat) and he said yes.  The next day, he offered to buy dinner before the movie.

And true love was born.

We dated for about a year and then discussed marriage.  We shopped and bought an engagement ring.  He worked second shift in those days so I went and picked up my own engagement ring at the jewelry store when it was finished being sized.  He came to my parent’s house that night after work and proposed.  Well, sort of.  .  . I handed him the ring box and he handed it right back to me and said, “Here ya go.”  Why yes, he’s certainly a romantic!!

We wanted to pay for our own wedding so we decided to get married about a year later.  My Mom and I did all the planning since he wasn’t available in the evenings.  He trusted me to get it done in style.

November 2, 1991 arrived and we sealed the deal.


Our 20^th anniversary was spent in Mexico last Wednesday so I didn’t get to blog about my wonderful husband.

He’s not perfect but he’s perfect for me.  We fit together like two peas in a pod.

He is the person I want to be with for a million more years.  He’s the person that takes care of me.  He is my drinking buddy.  He’s the one that always shares with me even if it is the last candy bar in the house.  He is the one that lets me cry about stupid stuff.  He’s the one that holds my hand when we are at the shopping mall.  He is the one that lets me carry on about ANYTHING when I’m happy, or sad, or mad about something.  He’s the one that makes sure I have what I need when I’m sitting on the couch and say something like, “Damn, I’m thirsty.”  He's the one that makes me a kick ass margarita when I say I need one.  He is the one that makes me giggle (and then tells me how he loves to hear me laugh).  He’s the one that comforts me when I have a terrifying nightmare at 2 am due to low blood sugar.

He is the one that I can’t imagine being without.

My life is better because of him.  My life is happier because of him.  My life is funnier because of him.  My life is more complete because of him.

Here's my Angry (in Mexico last week).  My love.  My best friend. 

I love this guy!

Honey, I love you with all my life.  I hope you remember that every time you think of me.  Happy Anniversary!

Did ya miss me?

I was on vacation in Mexico.  Hope someone actually missed me!!

I've got some blogs "in the works" so I'll be getting them posted as soon as I can.

Ouch! That hurt.

When my Mom and Dad rented the lower portion of a duplex from my Grandma, she became my day care (they moved in right after I was born).  It was a great arrangement and I loved spending that time with her as I was growing up.

My Grandma was a gardener extraordinaire. Our yard was filled with beautiful flowers and plants.  Her specialty was roses.  She loved them and spent many, many hours tending to her rose bushes.  They were incredible to see.  Even as a small child, I understood how special and beautiful they were.

I, as most young kids, had a swing set when I was about 4 or 5 years old.  I loved that thing and spent a lot of time on it.

The scene of the crime.

Something interesting happened one day.  I can remember it like it took place yesterday.

I was goofing around on one of the swings and I fell off backwards.  Into. A. Giant. Rose. Bush.

Ouch!  I tried to get out but every move I made hurt worse and worse as I got scratched and stabbed by thorns!  I was like a turtle that was upside down on its shell.  Picture my arms and legs flailing around with no way to get upright.

I started shouting, “Grandma!”  “Grandma!”  Over and over but she didn’t come for what seemed like forever.  In reality, it was probably more like a couple of minutes.

She finally came out the door and said “What’s up Honey?  I was on the phone with your Aunt.”  Suddenly, her eyes opened wide as she realized I was trapped in the rose bush.

I got yanked out and she spent the next few minutes plucking thorns from the back of my arms and legs.

Another non-deadly childhood mishap.  While it didn’t kill me, I did have a bunch of tiny scabs on my arms and legs for a while!

More ranting. Can't anyone behave?

Angry and I go to a tanning salon.   We use it year round because it helps the psoriasis on my hands and arms.  We use it more often when we are getting ready for vacation (which we are doing right now).

Our salon is currently doing construction to enlarge.  Thus, you have to wait for a booth to open just about every time you go.  We use the vertical (stand up) booths which are located in rooms right next to the lobby.  You can tell when the booths turn on and off and can hear the radios that are attached to those booths.

When we went last night, we requested the stand ups and sat down to wait.  Meanwhile, there was a woman waiting to use one of the booths we wanted.  It emptied, was cleaned, and she was told she could go ahead and use it.

She heads into the room and takes a phone call.  We can hear her talking (with the other caller on speaker!).  She kept talking, and talking, and talking.  Gee, how about you get your ass into the tanning booth so those of us that are waiting can take our turns?  She would have heard us ask for the stand up booths so she was well aware that people were waiting.  She finally hangs up the phone but spends several minutes tuning the radio to several different stations.  Hey lady, you are going to be in there for 10 lousy minutes; pick a station and get in there!

When the booth turned off, she spent extra time tuning the radio some more while she got dressed.  GET OUT!  People are waiting their turn!

I think I may be turning into that angry old person who tells the kids to “get off my lawn.”  Maybe I wouldn’t be so pissed off if people actually behaved themselves!

Why did they bother?

Angry and I went to see Bryan Adams on Friday for his Bare Bones tour.  He does his set with his guitar and harmonica.  He also has a piano player with him.  We both love his songwriting and his music.  His voice is awesome and his attitude with the fans is great!!  He is very talkative and tells some great stories during the show.

This, however, is not a review of his show.

This is a rant.  Ready?  Go!!

There were four young ladies in front of us at the show.  I’d say they were in their late 20s or very early 30s.  They talked, and talked, and talked all through the entire show.  Not whispering, talking.  Talking during the music, talking during Bryan Adams’ storytelling, talking during times of quiet guitar playing, talking during piano solos.  Yap yap yappity yap.  They even talked after I whispered “Shut the fuck up.”

We were in the 5^th row.  That means they were in the 4^th row.  That means that Bryan Adams had to have heard them during quiet moments of the show.  I would think this had to have been distracting for him.  It was for me.

Why would they bother to pay good money to see a show and talk through the entire thing?  If they wanted to listen to music and gab, they should have stayed home and turned on the radio.

I paid to hear one of my favorite singers and songwriters.

I didn’t pay to hear them talk!