I'm in Love With You...

After 38 years of marriage I've learned
a few things, particularly ways not to make
a husband gag:

* Don't stuff yourself into a bikini meant for Twiggy.

* Don't pierce anything other than your ear lobes--
and a nice juicy steak!

* Don't wear mini-skirts if you're not a 'mini'.

* Don't wear ankle bracelets that look as though
you're under house arrest.

* Don't wear midriff shirts that float over
The Island of Flab.

* If your 'skin' doesn't 'fit' you like it did
when you were first married, ban yourself
from those drive-thrus!

* Avoid or don't over do Botox-ing and facelifting--
he didn't marry a manikin.

* Too much sun equals skin like a dromedary--
only camels belong outside that much.

* Keep a sense of humor--it can throw your
husband off-balance when he wants to start complaining...

* Don't 'show' too much--'cracks' are for sidewalks!

*Treat yourself and life like a fine wine--
let it age naturally.

To my husband, Tom: Happy Anniversary,
with many more to come.

I'll love you "'til the 12th of Never..."

Golden Dreams

Where have all the years gone, and so quickly?
These thoughts cross my mind every once in awhile,
especially now as I've had my 63rd birthday.
If I could, would I go back to an earlier time, back
to my teen years or my college days?

If I'd had a way of foretelling the future, I may
have done a few things differently, change my
direction a bit, but then again...
If I'd fallen in love at 19 with the handsome Italian
fella living next door, whom I felt was in love with me
at the time , I'd no doubt have a houseful of kids.
But, I might also be divorced—since that was his
status a few years ago, and still might be.


If I'd been more motivated to finish college and
get a degree, I'd be teaching English Comp right now.
When I'd moved to San Francisco in 1970, I was working
at a local store. From the entrance I heard,
“Nancy, what on God's earth are you doing working here?”
My jaw dropped.

It was my former college professor, Jean Wilkinson,
who'd had very high aspirations for me.
She'd kept many of the works I'd written, and thought
I would've pursued a writing career, at the very least.
Presently, I'm still writing: short stories and romantic
poetry,as well as this blog.

If I'd followed my parents to Oregon instead of moving to
the Bay Area, I would've never met my husband, a handsome
airline captain,and had our two children.
Nor would I have had the opportunity to meet Charlton Heston
or Bing Crosby who were customers of mine one day.

We now live in South West Florida, which has changed the
direction of my life. I'm a freelance photographer, living a dream
I've always had--sequestered in the back of my mind.
I'm an artist, too.

Life is often convoluted.
You're never sure what each day is going to bring.
Ah, to be a kid again...?
Not a chance.

I'm From Venus, Tom's From Mars...

Cereal crumbs settle at the bottom of a cereal box--
a lot like married couples who’ve lived together for years.
Couples let it all hang out and soon peculiarities and
odd habits are revealed.

Everything has settled after 37 years. One gets used to being
married and sort of lets their hair down.
Sometimes, too much.

Over the years quirks and habits become a part
of everyday living. I’ve gotten used to towels being
strewn about the bath room, and the foyer being used as
a pit stop for his beach gear and work clothes.
Tom likes his stuff accessible.
We could move the “pot” into the room, too!
The clutter gets quickly picked up when neighbors
or family pop in.

I keep some of my artist equipment by the bed on my
side of the bedroom: An easel and a storage drawer unit.
I keep on top of it so it doesn’t get in the way.
My walk-in closet is another storage area for my photo
equipment and supplies.
I’m pretty neat, always stowing things back where they belong.

Granted, nothing stays the same--except my weight.
I’m only 7 pounds over from the day Tom married me.
I still have a full head of hair. Tom’s pants slink off
his shrinking waistline.
His diet is pretty healthy, though something calorie-filled
wouldn’t hurt him in the least.
I fondly remember when he used to eat cookies and birthday cake.
I try to avoid sweets, except for my once a week
guava danish I get from Whole Foods.

After two kids and a long marriage, gravitationally, things will settle…
the ladies out in cyber-land know what from where I speak.
Doing housework almost naked is an attractive option,
especially in hot and humid Florida.
I wear a swimsuit so I don't scare the dust bunnies...

Down the Yellow Brick Road...

Where have all the years gone, and so quickly?
These thoughts cross my mind every once in awhile,
especially now as I've had my 62nd birthday.
If I could, would I go back to an earlier time, back
to my teen years or my college days?

If I'd had a way of foretelling the future, I may
have done a few things differently, change my
direction a bit, but then again...
If I'd fallen in love at 19 with the handsome Italian
fella living next door, who I felt was in love with me
at the time , I'd no doubt have a houseful of kids.
But, I might also be divorced—since that was his
status a few years ago, and still might be.


If I'd been more motivated to finish college and
get a degree, I'd be teaching English Comp right now.
When I'd moved to San Francisco in 1970, I was working
at a local store. From the entrance I heard,
“Nancy, what on God's earth are you doing working here?”
My jaw dropped.

It was my former college professor, Jean Wilkinson,
who'd had very high aspirations for me.
She'd kept many of the works I'd written, and thought
I would've pursued a writing career, at the very least.
Presently, I'm still writing: short stories and romantic poetry,
as well as this blog.

If I'd followed my parents to Oregon instead of moving to
the Bay Area, I would've never met my husband, a handsome
airline captain,and had our two children.
Nor would I have had the opportunity to meet Charlton Heston
or Bing Crosby who were customers of mine one day.

We now live in South West Florida, which has changed the
direction of my life. I'm a freelance photographer, living a dream
I've always had--sequestered in the back of my mind.
I'm an artist, too.

Life is often convoluted.
You're never sure what each day is going to bring.
Ah, to be a kid again...?
Not a chance.

Some Enchanted Evening

Marriage is like a thrill ride at Disney World.
You enter it with happiness, a degree of fear, and with great expectations.
What lies ahead is reality of the ride.

Living on a shoestring many years ago, I planned our wedding, managing to spend a total of $300.00—dress, flowers,and a prime rib dinner for 28 close friends and family.
Today's couples spend, on the average, $20,000 for the wedding of their dreams.

Despite the romance a marriage conveys—much the result of Hollywood movies, television, magazines and advertising, one soon realizes, upon entering the institution of marriage, that it's a fine meal of sorts.
It needs spices, sauce, sugar, and some time to bubble and simmer.
Keep romance revved up.
Be ingenious—write your spouse a poem or a love letter, surprise her/him with candy, a card you've made..a long kiss.

As for everyday life, I have to say my husband kicks in with housework, especially the vacuuming. What a guy..I don't expect it. It's a romantic gesture, I guess.
Tom's a man of schedules. Everything, including eating is at a specific time.
Me, I'm spontaneous and flexible as a stick of gum.
Want to go to lunch or a movie at 4:00, I'm there!

We are polar opposites, but the main ingredients to our thirty-seven years together have been love, compromise, and respect.
Each of us contribute personality attributes and qualities to the marriage.
Some are quirky, that goes without saying.

Yes, marriage is the reality that you do find cereal crumbs in your shorts, or an edge of toothpaste stuck to the corner of your mouth..