May 23rd, 2012 | 15 Comments »

 A poem for you from me. Please add new comments if you’d like to. Didn’t want to zap old ones.

 ***********************

SWEETEST PASSION

I gaze as the moon shimmers across his naked body
lost in the thought of who he is
and how blessed I am he’s in my life,
And how it is this passion is
hotter than it was in the beginning.
YUM!
This man lying in my bed
emanating strength and power
boldly going where no man has gone before
by
taking a chance on me and
loving me totally, unconditionally, wholly.

Oh! Those who have no clue
and those who mock the ties that bind
and those who say their love is real
without those little pieces of paper.

It is far easier to cohabitate than it is to
swear eternal allegiance before God,
mean it by fighting for it,
tearing out those little things
that work to destroy forever.

Hah! You fool yourself and you do not know
the passions that come from total
and complete
Trust
founded on a Word, His Word,
far stronger than even the sweetest “I love you but…”

You can not know
what you have not known
and I do,
I do
have compassion for you.

© 2007 Nan C.

***********************

One night a couple of years ago, I couldn’t sleep.  The moon was filtering through the mini-blinds as I lay in bed, propped up on my elbow, gazing at this man who loves me so passionately.  There is so much fire and craving, adoration and romance that he has brought into my life.  I was so overwhelmed by him, his complete and utter love for me, and what he’s given to me that I had to get up and write.  This is my relationship and in no way is meant to offend those who do not believe this way.

Serenade of Water, Piano – Zelda

May 14th, 2012 | 19 Comments »

(A re-do of a previous post to fill in while I’m away from my computer)

I can be your hero baby
I can kiss away the pain
I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away (Hero, Enrique Iglesias, 2001)

In a world full of males (as opposed to being a man), wimps, blowhards, cheaters, playa’s, clowns, beaters, wussies, weenies, whiners, slackers, couch potatoes, abusers, drinkers, and any other adjective applied to males out there – in a world full of these whatevers, there are very few real men.

A real man protects, supports, believes in, loves unconditionally, romances, will stand by you forever, does not cheat no matter the provocation – and trust me on this – if you have a good man, some skank will want to come along and *try* to steal him.  Ask my how I know.  

Alpha Hubby is the total essence of what a real man is.  A “real man” is a strange and rare phenomenon that few women have actually experienced. I’m sure all of us have experienced males in one form or another from a chauvinistic boss to a slimey cheating lying boozin’ rodeo ridin’ loose hipped self-named Mr. Wonderful icky ex.

Here is a truth.  Real men need to know they are your hero – that knight in shining armor who can ride in and rescue, fix and otherwise make life better for his woman.  He knows she can take care of herself but he wants to give to her.  Alpha Hubby taught me this.  He is always saying, “Love is an Action Verb.  You can say you love but if you don’t act like it, if you don’t give to the other person, it isn’t real love.  It’s selfish.”

A man knows when his woman doesn’t think he is a hero.  Pretty much everyone around them knows she doesn’t think he’s a hero, either.  It is in a woman’s power to build a man up and in her power to knock him down – to be his cheerleader or his worst nightmare.  

Most women have no idea how much power they have over a man who loves her.  Others abuse that power.  He doesn’t always want you to know you can have this power over him, but you can.

For women, most of the time we look for words to express love.  Also flowers, gifts, chocolate, cards, or romantic gestures that only we know what they are because we don’t tell them because they should “just know”. 

For men, giving to his woman is an expression of love we don’t always recognize – going to work, handing over his paycheck, coming home to us every night, fixing things, building things, eating your cooking (ho).   Most are easily trained (smile) in that IF we tell them what means love to us, they will bend over backward to give us that.

Being your hero is a precious and valuable gift.  A woman can cut that off in an instant with a careless and thoughtless word, a rolled eye, or a attitude.  If he gives to you and you disrespect what he’s given, he will shut down and you will have lost something that will be very hard to get back.

Baybay?  You are my hero.  Thank you for giving and trusting me your heart.

I will dance with you.  I’ll go wherever you take us.  I would cry if I saw you crying.  I do tremble when you touch my lips.  I would die for you if necessary, and if I take your breath away, I’ll share mine with you – and I swear I will always be yours.

Thank you for helping me along this journey – for believing in me.  You prove patience really is a virtue.  You make it all worthwhile.  And I absolutely love every remodel, every addition, every flower and vegetable bed you’ve ever created for me.  Every. Little. Thing.  Everything that you’ve ever done for me.   NO ONE has ever given to or done for me any of the things you have done.  And I know it.  And I LOVE IT. 

My new closet??  IT’S SO FLUFFY (nod to Despicable Me)!!!

Whole lyrics to Hero HERE

May 7th, 2012 | 16 Comments »

There are times I am totally beyond amazed at the love Alpha Hubby has for me.  Sometimes it defies description although I try.  Is he a saint?  Nah, he is most definitely corporally present.  Thank goodness.

It isn’t that we don’t have some days where we become tired and a bit tiffed or even – *horrors* – have a raised voice or two.  I will say that he has probably only raised his voice in frustration um… let me see.  Once in 18 years.  Wow.  He far surpasses me in this area. 

He’s also never thrown anything.  Me?  Errrr, do I have to say?  I can say this in all honesty:  I only lost ONE favorite coffee mug. That has to count for something, right? 

Until you factor in boiled eggs, water, a bread roll or two. And *ahem* maybe (but I ain’t talking) other foodstuff. That’s about it, tho.  Unless he remembers something I’m forgetting which, because he is so amazing, he will not remind me of.  Right, babe?  Right??  Again he surpasses me.

While I am the writer, he used to write very wonderful stories.  He wrote just for me.  He expressed his love in ways that took my breath away and made me very suspicious at the same time.  Suspicious as in, “What’s wrong with this guy?  When is the other shoe going to drop?  Where’s the axe?” 

Yeah, yeah, I had issues.  I didn’t trust anyone who could love me.  I’m better now.  But he is very good at expressing himself and his love to me in writing and mushy cards.  Better than me AGAIN.  Does this ever stop?

I know!  He can’t sing.  Oh, he will croon to me and I love it, very much. I sing love songs to him.  He says he loves listening to my voice.  The latest I am going to learn to sing is coming up below (link to you tube or video below).

But even though I can sing his socks off (and various and other sundry articles of clothing), he tends to top me with things like what he did this Saturday evening. (Click on right arrow to hear the song; if you have trouble, view on You Tube HERE (link to You Tube opens in separate window)

We were watching the movie “Joyful Noise” with Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah.  There is a song in the movie Dolly Parton sings (partially along with Kris Kristofferson and Jeremy Jordan).  It’s one of those huge-lump-in-the-throat songs.

During the romantic moonlit night dance scene between Dolly Parton and Kris Kristofferson, Alpha Hubby suddenly said, “That’s you.”

I asked, “What is?”

“That song,” he said, “it’s you; how I feel about you.  From here to the moon and back.”

Drat.  Another area he’s better in than I am.  Oh, who am I kidding?  It melted my socks off (and various and other sundry articles of clothing).  It came spontaneously from out his heart straight to mine.  ZING!

He might be a saint after all.
.

FROM HERE TO THE MOON AND BACK LYRICS

I could hold out my arms, say “I love you this much”
I could tell you how long I will long for your touch
How much and how far would I go to prove
The depth and the breadth of my love for you?

From here to the moon and back
Who else in this world will love you like that?
Love everlasting, I promise you that
From here to the moon and back
From here to the moon and back

I want you to know you can always depend
On promises made and love without end
No need to wonder how faithful I’ll be
Now and on into eternity

From here to the moon and back
Who else in this world will love you like that?
Forever and always, I’ll be where you’re at
From here to the moon and back
From here to the moon and back

I would blow you a kiss from the star where I sat
I would call out your name to echo through the vast
Thank heaven for you and to God tip my hat
From here to the moon and back

And I’ll spend forever just proving that fact
From here to the moon and back

April 26th, 2012 | 43 Comments »

Alpha Hubby is always telling me how good I treat him.

I always reply, “Yeah, but I could do better.”

He always seems a bit confused and says, “Umm, no?”

But the truth of the matter is that with the loved ones in our lives, we can ALWAYS do better.  We can be more patient.  More understanding.  More giving.  More thoughtful.  More loving.  More like we were when we first fell in love with them.  More about them and less about ourselves.

I never feel I do enough for him  because this guy is ALWAYS giving.   I have never been treated the way he treats me.   He really is good to me!  If every man on earth learned Alpha Hubby’s tricks of the trade, his ways, his sneakiness in fighting …

…we have our moments.  To those of you who think I only share the good in our marriage, that I’m not being honest about our relationship, I offer this sordid and sad tale.

I got upset last night because he interrupted me AGAIN and missed my point altogether.  Not that I’ve EVAH done that to him, nope.  Only the first 3/4ths of our marriage.

I was running my mouth, “Oh my gosh, you are getting worse!”  Of course he was headed to bed and nothing better get in the way of his bedtime.  He gets a bit… shall we say touchy?  Whiney?  Gripey?  Mouthy?  Growly?  I never hear the end of it when he gets to bed late.  But my point was valid even though my timing was lousy.

He said, “Get over yourself.  You are such an onion girl!”  

Hey, I know I have layers.  However, I would prefer to be called Parfait Girl.  Parfaits have layers. 

 He muttered on, oh so dramatically.

I said, “Oh, quit being such a Drama King.”

“Onion girl!”

“Drama King!!”

Oh yeah, we’re in a smack down now!! 

Then, of course, in order to win, HE CHEATS.  He stomps over and says, “Kiss me!”

“NO NO,” I yell, “NO kissing.  I’m not kissing you.  Go away, there are no good-night kisses for you!”  Yes, we are a very mature couple.  Why do you ask?

He uses brute strength, grabbing my head trying to kiss me.  I keep my lips closed, keeping that kiss from happening.  I have standards, you know.  I can’t give him his way.  That would just be wrong.

“Stop it! NO kissing, no kissing!”

He just laughs that evil laugh.  Then, he wins.  Cheating, of course.  He licks me.  On the lips. Like a dog.

Ewwwww – I hate lip licking.  HATE being licked on the lips.  Blech.

I give up, especially since I’m wiping my lips on his shirt and laughing so hard, I can’t win.  I kiss him.

*Sigh*  I know.  It is minus-1 for the female team. 

But for some reason, I can’t help but not really care.

There you have it.  He’s good to me.  I’m good to him.  This is the truth of our marriage – immature fighting and major mature making up!

Oh yeah baby, you are good to me!

April 18th, 2012 | 27 Comments »

I married an Electrial Engineer.  I know he was an Electrical Engineer because I met him at work and he was working as an Electrical Engineer.  Got that?  I, me, myself, I married an Electrical Engineer.

So why, 18+ years later am I sitting on a ranch?  Watching cows, heifers, calves, and a bull frolic in the pastures?  It’s complicated.  Well, no, I guess it isn’t.  I made the mistake of asking him early in our marriage what his heart’s desire was, the one thing he really wanted to do. 

He said, “I would want to get back into raising cattle.” 

“Raising cattle?” I queried.  Surely he was jesting because I married an Electrical Engineer.  I don’t do cows.

“Yes, I used to do that years ago.  It has always been somthing I wanted to do again.” 

Are you cow-pooping me??  A rancher?  Excuuuuuse me but I married a city-slicking Electrical Engineer. 

But, being the dutiful wife I was… no, scratch that.  I am hardly a dutiful wife.  So being the woman madly in love with the Alpha Hubby Electrical Engineer, the very same man who once asked me what the one thing was I would do if I could, then promptly went about fulfilling that desire for me – that man – I got behind his dream and supported it.  Over the next few years I learned more about cows and bulls and heifers and calves than I EVER dreamed possible.   And I now know some cows have so much personality it’s astonishing.

After we moved here a couple of years ago, he began to slowly create his full blood herd, a few cows at a time.  The first two (Awesome and Cool Breeze, above as babies) were delivered to our pasture at night (which they shouldn’t have been).  They promptly freaked out, not knowing where they were, and  found a weak area in the fence and disappeared.  It took Alpha Hubby and Son two days to find them in the neighbor’s 200 acre field and get them home again.  Where they promptly did this again a few days later.  And again.  And again.  And again until Alpha Hubby finally got all the weak places taken care of.  I was ready to send them both somewhere they’d permanently regret and it wasn’t to their former owner’s house.

One we gained, this little beauty above top, tiny little Molly (w/Mama) Feb 2011 and below that on Mar 2012 (she’s on right), well Miss Molly turned out to have a fog horn voice, and she knows how to use it.  She marches to the corral at about the same time every day, stands in the gate and if the sweet feed isn’t there and Alpha Hubby is here but isn’t looking like he’s getting it for her, or if he’s not moving fast enough for her majesty, she bellows so loudly I can hear her inside the house.  She anounces that it’s time, right now, for sweet feed. 

She is also telling everyone else to “come on, let’s see if we can intimidate him into putting it out now.”  If no one shows up with sweet feed, all the cows leave until they see Alpha Hubby or hear Foghorn Molly again.   These are the quietest cows ever; nary a one makes a noise – except Molly.

Then we have Blondie.  She chases Alpha Son when he gets on the tractor.  She has adopted Alpha Son, much to his dismay.  She wants to chase him (never ever saw him move THAT fast before), push him around, love on him, head butt him, and just, in general, play with him.  He has to stick a finger in her face and say “NO!” in a strong voice before she leaves him alone.

Then we have Mama.  She’s a former show cow, the one who calms the rest of the small herd.  She loves when you go to open the gate because she will stand on the other side of it and push it shut with her head.  She thinks you’re playing a game with her.  She’s taller than I am.  I am NOT playing her game.  She also wants someone to scratch her head but man, her hair is rough!  Mama’s shown here (above) with her third daughter, about 30 minutes after she was born.  Mama is one mellow cow who allows Alpha Hubby to rub her and scratch her head… except after she had her baby a week ago.  When he got too close one day, she turned around and pushed him in his bootie.  She’s about 1900 pounds.  You know who won.

Awesome (in the family portrait, top, sitting), the first runaway heifer, was the first to drop a beautiful little girl (FF Baby) 6 months ago.  Blondie wanted to be a mama (bottom picture, right) so she tried to adopt FF Baby a few minutes after she was born and totally confused that poor baby.  The baby had no idea why her new mama didn’t have any milk.  We had to banish Blondie to the other pasture and allow Awesome to BE the mama.  Which she is. Excellently so.

Jaguar is the first of the commercial breed.  She follows Awesome around much to Awesone’s disgust.  Jaguar doesn’t really have a personality, per se.  She is quiet and just eats and eats.  She is getting ready to drop her new baby soon.

 

Then we have ‘da man.  Cool Breeze.  The bull who thinks he’s all that what with 3 girls already chalked up to his studliness.   He gets horribly embarrassed when he has to babysit.  Unfortunately for him, his ‘lil darling loves to hang with dad, all the time.  Once a few weeks ago when he knew it was time for sweet feed, because I had stopped the car to look at him, he sauntered his way up the field like it was no big deal.  When I was leaving, I glanced into the rear view mirror and that bull was running full out to the gate like his tail was on fire. 

Watching a 2000+ pound bull leap, jump, play, and run around is pretty amazing.  He jumped the fence from the field he was in one evening, and jumped over another fence into the field where a hot-blooded cow was.  She was promptly moved to the pasture he came from (she was too young) and he was banned to the new field.  But no matter what you say, white bulls can jump.  Heh, heh.

Now we have these two cuties, born 5 days apart.   The one laying down is Blondies baby.  Yes, she finally got one of her own and is an amazing mom.  The baby is a few minutes old.  The one standing baby is Mama’s baby from 5 days ago at the time.  I’ve never seen two babies playing and gamboling so I’m enjoying them.   It’s wonderful Redneck Entertainment.

I’ve learned a lot.  I own a pair of Muck boots Alpha Hubby purchased for me.  You do know why, right?  Let me just say flip flops and cows don’t mix.  I can feed the cows if I have to, even tho most of them are taller than me.  I can go where no me has gone before.  Even if I don’t do cows.  And he is still an Electrical Engineer.  That’s how he keeps these spoiled babies in sweet feed!

My life.  I sit on my deck, sipping my hot tea and just thank God I am where I am and with the man I am with.  Truly, babe – heaven must have sent you from above.  Thanks for showing up in my cubicle and changing my life!

.

Song:  Grazing in the Grass

Full Blood Romagnolia, an Italian breed
Jaguar is part Seminole and ?

April 8th, 2012 | 12 Comments »

Alpha Hubby and I are very blessed.  Our meeting was blessed.  Our life has been blessed and we work hard to keep our marriage blessed. 

We do work hard to protect what we have.  It doesn’t just fall into our laps, waking up every morning singing Disney songs and skipping fa-la-la-la-la to and fro, blowing kisses to one another, ever smiling and kissy-kissy all. the. time.  Who could live that way anyway?   You’d have to keep an eye out constantly with all those cartoon twittering birds flying over your heads.
 
No; the only reason we are what we are together and have what we have is because of our belief in and walk with God.  And without Jesus, we wouldn’t even be alive, much less where we are together.  Based on our old lives, we both should be dead.  For us, He is real, He is alive, and He is Who we honor today.
 
So today we celebrate a blessed holiday – holy and sanctified (set apart), because Jesus is worthy of adoration, reverence (honor, awe) and worship.
 
From our house to yours, may your life be like the story that goes to this picture below.  There was a beautiful tree in my parents yard.  One day it began dying until it reached the point they had to cut it down.  It left a stump they put the garbage can on for the garbage man to pick up.  My son burned it in an attempt to help get rid of the stump.  It was worthless.  Dead.  Lifeless.  Useless.  Many knew it was finished.
 
One day I went to visit my mom and for some reason I stopped to look at the tree stump.  It was amazing.  In the middle of the stump new life was beginning.  As the dead edges of the stump began falling away, the little life continued to grow.  It so amazed me, I had Alpha Hubby take a picture of it for me to remind me new life can rise out of the ashes.
 
 
 
New life.  In the middle of dead a tree stump.  New life fighting it’s way through the dead stump, aiming for the light above.  New life.  In the middle of something everyone had considered lifeless, useless, finished.
 
Life.  When you aim toward the Light, new life will take hold and grow. 
 
May you live it to the fullest.
 
 
HAPPY EASTER
Tags:
Posted in All Blogs, Nan's Blogs
March 29th, 2012 | 20 Comments »

I did have this entire life mapped out – several of them, really.  From the time I could dream, I was going to sing.  I was going to draw.  I was going to write.  I was going to continue traveling (my entire childhood was spent moving).  I was going to do great and mighty things.  BE somebody. 

I was gonna be a Star with a capital S.  Well, at least in my own little world in my own little corner in my own little mind.

Somewhere along the way, things crept in (along with creeps) that sidetracked me, changed me, hurt me, directed me to different pathways, sent me careening down rabbit trails, shoved me over into ditches, ruining some things, creating piles of baggage for me to carry all my life, and life just plain did NOT go the way I wanted it to go.  I was not the conductor of the music that was my life.

But if all those roads led me to Alpha Hubby… nah, can’t go down that particular road.  I’d rather have found him BEFORE.

Before the creeps.  Before the wrong changes.  Before the hurts.  Before the piles and piles and piles of baggage.  Before the ditches, before the rabbit trails, before the pathways I should never have wandered onto.  There were also some wicked bad wolves out there.

And yet… here came Alpha Hubby.  He entirely blew off the baggage.  He put some loving TNT under the piles and blew them out of the terminal.  No more baggage claims for me – except for what he’s created in me (snicker).

He is a strong, determined and resourceful man when it comes to helping me be the best I can be.   He has been my best source of support.  He has helped me see myself, especially in a different way from what I had been seeing.  He is full of amazing insight.

He IS the Biggest Baddest Wolf in my life.  My best friend.  He loves this quote, “Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil because I am the baddest thing in the valley.”  Huge paraphrase.  One that pretty much exemplifies who he is.

But – I needed a Big Bad Wolf in my life.  One who mates for life.  One who takes on all evil demons, dragons and nightmares, and tears the throat out of them for me and with me.  He’s bad.  In a redeemed way.

 

Alpha Hubby swears he would have fallen in love with me in the sandbox.  He swears we would have picked one another right away and could have bypassed all the garbage we both had in our lives.   

I used to laugh at him and say, “My mama would have kept me away from a wolf like you.” 

He just ignores that.  He refuses to accept that we wouldn’t have fallen in love immediately as kindergarteners.  He is probably right.  He could have carried my coloring books and beaten up the bully girls for me.

So I am not a famous lounge singer.  My art only hangs on our wall.  My writing, I’m working on.  Traveling?  I’m stuck with short road trips right now but someday.  Someday we’ll visit Ireland.  Bora Bora.  Romantic destinations.  Someday.

So sure, my dream life was interrupted but my reality is far better than I dreamed.  I never factored in a man who loves me ferociously.  And I have to say that THAT is better than anything.

And

I still get to sing – to him.

I still get to draw – for us both.

And I get to write – for me!

I’m glad my dream life was interrupted by an Alpha.

March 14th, 2012 | 22 Comments »

Alpha Hubby and I learned a long time ago that if we want to remember something important, write it down.  This includes everything from shopping items to to-do lists.

And, as you know, we also indulge in notes to one another.  You may recall this one?

This was from a post about what helps a couple have “forever.”  And, of course, he answered correctly.  I have learned it helps to keep the choices very simple. 

But there are days… days when I wish I was Ralph Kramden and he was Alice and I could say, “One of these days, Alice, one of these days.  BANG, ZOOM!  Straight to the moon!”

Don’t you go feeling sorry for him.  That’s what he wants.  And I mean, really.  Let me ‘splain.

The other night I was sitting in the living room, snuggled into my favorite chair reading.  Alpha Hubby had already gone to bed.  I finally realized I needed to head to bed, too, so I got up, picked up my tea cup, and caught floor movement out of the corner of my eye. 

Floor movement is NEVER good.  There are a plethora of reasons – mice (which we don’t have, thank goodness), big honking spiders (which I haven’t seen in a long time, also thank goodness), skunks (which I don’t EVER want to see again and wasn’t actually on the floor but in the ceiling), opposums (ditto)…

When it comes to some things, I am President of the Girly Girl Club and no one will ever make me feel ashamed of that.   I am a girly girl and darned proud of it.  Go ahead, open my door. I double-dog dare you.

So anyway, I caught the tail end of… a tail?  I was suddenly praying it was a tail because if it was a skinny snake, we were gonna have big trouble in the old midsouth tonight.  I hate snakes worse than anything.  I stepped over enough to see what it was.  THIS is what it was:

Yes, that is a lizard.  He apparently thought the grass was greener on the inside and came in under the temporary glass door to the driveway.  He headed under the big leather couch.  I stood there debating whether to freak or not, but really.  After a falling skunk, this was child’s play. 

As I always do when creepy crawly things come into my personal life space, I let Alpha Hubby know – I left a note so he’d (1) know there was a lizard in the living room, and (2) take care of it if he ran across it.   And the truth is, (3) he should wale up, get out of bed, tear up the living room, and get that wiggly thing OUT of my house.  Preferably NOW.

My note said, “There is a lizard in the LR – under couch.”  I added the word “small” for some reason.  I guess I wanted him to know it wasn’t a komodo dragon size or something.  Hey, it was late. 

His snarky reply (just in case you missed it)?

Oh I’m so sure he thought he was clever.  Ha ha, honey.  Ha ha.

WHO, I ask you, has been in charge of getting rid of snakes, frogs, bullies, strange people, big spiders, mice, opossums, skunks, and the like, since we were married??  Yes, quite correct – Alpha Hubby.  It’s documented.  It was also in the small print on the marriage license.

I am not ashamed to say that I think men who have played in the mud, ridden their bikes into trees, gotten dirty, played with frogs, fought valiantly against all sisters, sent Valentine’s cards like the one above (yes, he did), and who act all macho and manly should be in charge of getting rid of all the vermin.  AND I do not think aforementioned manly man should make fun of the girly girl when she won’t and just can’t.

You’re gonna want some, sometime, baby.  You might want to be just a little bit nicer to me.

***

Keith Urban, Only You Can Love Me