Yesterday was a really bad day. The kind of day where everything that could possibly go wrong did, and left me feeling rather overwhelmed. And I could have either posted about tea, or gone to bed. I decided to go to bed because I had to wake up insanely early for today's day of fun.
Last night I went to bed feeling really low and forced myself to count my blessings. Today, I feel so blessed. I'm sitting at a beautiful hotel with a group of amazing friends after having a long drive with conversation that blessed my socks off. None of the hard circumstances from yesterday have changed. But I am so blessed that I am dealing with those circumstances surrounded by some wonderful people. I was thinking about how amazing it is because I didn't have enough room on my Twitter to list every single person here. Which is sooo cool and so wonderful.
So I'm not at a fancy tea place today. Not blogging about a cool place to go get tea, even though the Broadmoor is a very cool place to be. It's just me, with a mug from home and bag of the first tea I could grab, and really cool people. Because sometimes, the enjoyment of tea isn't about what kind of tea you're drinking, or where you're drinking it, but WHO you're drinking it with.
And I love that I can drink it with these friends.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Because I apparently have too much time on my hands...
Look what I found!! An online tea community where I can track the tea I drink, have, and want... Steepster. This could either be a really good thing or a really bad thing. I think keeping track of my tea just may be as dangerous as trying to keep track of my books.
Be afraid, be very afraid.
Or join me. ;)
My profile on Steepster.
Be afraid, be very afraid.
Or join me. ;)
My profile on Steepster.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Vegan(ish)?
While at RWA, one of my friends was telling me about her decision to go mostly vegan. Which I found quite fascinating, because you tend to think of vegans as um, well, weirdos. Sorry to all you vegans. Anyway, my friend said that the idea came from a book she read, and I can't remember the name, but she said that the book claimed that if every family went vegan only for the meals they had at home, we would end world hunger. They could eat whatever they wanted eating out, but at home, they had to be vegan.
Now, if you know my family, you know that would never work. What am I saying? That would never work for me. I LIKE meat- sometimes.
But I can't stop thinking about this idea, because I am concerned about world hunger. And I readily admit that just changing my family's food habits isn't going to be enough to change the world. But it's something, right?
So now I'm thinking that maybe we'll do vegan one night a week. We can handle that, right?
But here's my issue: I hate tofu. It's completely a texture issue for me, and I don't care how many times I've tried it, I hate it. And my family doesn't like it, either. I'm also not fond of Indian food, which seems to be the majority of vegan recipes. I've been looking at different vegan recipes, and so far, I'm not finding anything my family will eat.
Should I just hang up the towel my great vegan idea? Or is there hope for a girl who wants to try it?
Now, if you know my family, you know that would never work. What am I saying? That would never work for me. I LIKE meat- sometimes.
But I can't stop thinking about this idea, because I am concerned about world hunger. And I readily admit that just changing my family's food habits isn't going to be enough to change the world. But it's something, right?
So now I'm thinking that maybe we'll do vegan one night a week. We can handle that, right?
But here's my issue: I hate tofu. It's completely a texture issue for me, and I don't care how many times I've tried it, I hate it. And my family doesn't like it, either. I'm also not fond of Indian food, which seems to be the majority of vegan recipes. I've been looking at different vegan recipes, and so far, I'm not finding anything my family will eat.
Should I just hang up the towel my great vegan idea? Or is there hope for a girl who wants to try it?
Monday, July 18, 2011
Giving myself a break
I spent the weekend being incredibly self-indulgent. I wrote. And I wrote. And I wrote.
I did not do chores. I did not weed my garden. I did not work on my book cataloging project.
I wrote.
Which doesn't seem like a break, except that for me, writing tends to be something I do in snippets of stolen time, and I spend a lot of my other time wishing I could do it. And this weekend, I said, "phooey. Everything else can wait. I'm writing."
So I did. When I wanted to take a break from writing, I caught up on work, I watched TV, I played a few games. But mostly, I wrote.
Sunday evening, I had a mini crisis in character, because I thought that with all of my self-indulgence, I should really take the time off and have a Sabbath. But then I felt guilty, because even though some people would see writing as work, for me, it was my rest, my relaxation, and I'd been doing it all weekend. So I fired up my hyper drive, and got madly productive, catching up on projects that needed to be caught up on, and at 10pm on Sunday, I started looking for more things to do.
Which is when I smacked myself and said, "wait a second. I'm okay on all the have-tos. Yes, there are more, but there will always be more. They never end."
I could have gone to bed, but I wasn't really tired. Instead, I grabbed a book I've been wanting to read for a while now. Not a have-to book, not market research, not something for work. I usually want to read those too, but this time, I deliberately chose a book that I wanted to read only for the fact that I wanted to read it.
It was a great book, and today, I am feeling more refreshed than ever. Sometimes we feel guilty for ignoring the have-tos in favor of the want-tos, but my time of indulging my want-tos has made today's have-tos get done more quickly and more efficiently than ever.
So today, give yourself a break. Find a want-to and do it. Not because you have to, but because you want to. What's on your want-to list?
I did not do chores. I did not weed my garden. I did not work on my book cataloging project.
I wrote.
Which doesn't seem like a break, except that for me, writing tends to be something I do in snippets of stolen time, and I spend a lot of my other time wishing I could do it. And this weekend, I said, "phooey. Everything else can wait. I'm writing."
So I did. When I wanted to take a break from writing, I caught up on work, I watched TV, I played a few games. But mostly, I wrote.
Sunday evening, I had a mini crisis in character, because I thought that with all of my self-indulgence, I should really take the time off and have a Sabbath. But then I felt guilty, because even though some people would see writing as work, for me, it was my rest, my relaxation, and I'd been doing it all weekend. So I fired up my hyper drive, and got madly productive, catching up on projects that needed to be caught up on, and at 10pm on Sunday, I started looking for more things to do.
Which is when I smacked myself and said, "wait a second. I'm okay on all the have-tos. Yes, there are more, but there will always be more. They never end."
I could have gone to bed, but I wasn't really tired. Instead, I grabbed a book I've been wanting to read for a while now. Not a have-to book, not market research, not something for work. I usually want to read those too, but this time, I deliberately chose a book that I wanted to read only for the fact that I wanted to read it.
It was a great book, and today, I am feeling more refreshed than ever. Sometimes we feel guilty for ignoring the have-tos in favor of the want-tos, but my time of indulging my want-tos has made today's have-tos get done more quickly and more efficiently than ever.
So today, give yourself a break. Find a want-to and do it. Not because you have to, but because you want to. What's on your want-to list?
Friday, July 15, 2011
The almost not quite but still scary day
We went to Water World yesterday. There are no pictures, something you should all be thankful for. No one wants to see me in a bathing suit. Except maybe hubby.
Hubby's cousin invited us to go with her- she doesn't have small children anymore, but she loves riding water slides. So she called me up and asked to take us. And of course, I said yes. A decision I regretted the moment she started talking about the crazy rides she planned on taking us on. *gulp* I am not the adventurous sort. At least in terms of going on scary rides, heights, things that spin, and pretty much anything you'd find at an amusement park. Let's put it this way- "It's a small world" is my favorite ride- EVER.
However, God gifted us with two little daredevils. An important rite of passage in our family has been when our girls are tall enough to ride rollercoasters. Me, I'm clinging to the fact that my littlest is still not tall enough (barely) to ride. Because she's my excuse not to go. You know, "sorry, I couldn't possibly, I need to stay with the little one." However, she's inching taller and each year, is able to ride scarier and scarier rides.
So I find myself doing more daring things, riding scary(ish) rides, and trying to encourage my girls to be brave where I am not.
Back to the water park. The kids wanted to start off with a scary, wedgie-inducing ride that I knew would have me completely freaking out, but I'd have to do it or else the little one couldn't go. Fortunately, our cousin decided that she wanted to see how well the kids did on less scary rides because she'd never seen them swim before. PHEW! That bullet dodged.
We rode a number of rides, all the while planning on when we'd do the scary ones. They laughed at my love for the lazy river, but after lunch, went on anyway. Which really meant I owed it to them to do the scary ones, right? We passed one I'd rode at another park about a year ago. Another ride I'd prefer not to do, but have done multiple times because the little one needed me with her. So even though I HATE this slide, I'd resigned myself to doing it and all the other scary slides. The kids talked about riding it, but then they saw THE BIG ONE. I'm talking death-defying, scary, I don't know why they have this stupid slide, and why millions of people haven't DIED on it, but I'm sure I will be the first. So we headed toward it.
Which was when the skies got dark, the clouds rolled in, and little raindrops began falling. We decided to let the little one ride a kiddie slide to see if the storm would blow over. We discovered that the kiddie pool is thousands of degrees warmer than the other pools, which made me and the little one want to stay there because it had gotten a lot colder all of a sudden. Our cousin and older daughter were still plotting about riding THE BIG ONE.
And then we saw it. Lightning streaking across the sky, which caused the lifeguard whistles to shriek the blessed sound- everyone out of the water.
We went back to our covered area to wait out the storm. An hour later, the storm had not subsided, they closed the park, and we went home bearing rain checks for another day of fun.
Bullet dodged.
I had a great day, despite being nervous about all the scary rides to come, and I didn't have to go on a single ride I didn't want to. That said, we have in our possession passes to go on another day. And knowing my kids, I'm not sure I'm going to get so lucky next time.
How do you deal with having kids who need you to do things that scare you?
Hubby's cousin invited us to go with her- she doesn't have small children anymore, but she loves riding water slides. So she called me up and asked to take us. And of course, I said yes. A decision I regretted the moment she started talking about the crazy rides she planned on taking us on. *gulp* I am not the adventurous sort. At least in terms of going on scary rides, heights, things that spin, and pretty much anything you'd find at an amusement park. Let's put it this way- "It's a small world" is my favorite ride- EVER.
However, God gifted us with two little daredevils. An important rite of passage in our family has been when our girls are tall enough to ride rollercoasters. Me, I'm clinging to the fact that my littlest is still not tall enough (barely) to ride. Because she's my excuse not to go. You know, "sorry, I couldn't possibly, I need to stay with the little one." However, she's inching taller and each year, is able to ride scarier and scarier rides.
So I find myself doing more daring things, riding scary(ish) rides, and trying to encourage my girls to be brave where I am not.
Back to the water park. The kids wanted to start off with a scary, wedgie-inducing ride that I knew would have me completely freaking out, but I'd have to do it or else the little one couldn't go. Fortunately, our cousin decided that she wanted to see how well the kids did on less scary rides because she'd never seen them swim before. PHEW! That bullet dodged.
We rode a number of rides, all the while planning on when we'd do the scary ones. They laughed at my love for the lazy river, but after lunch, went on anyway. Which really meant I owed it to them to do the scary ones, right? We passed one I'd rode at another park about a year ago. Another ride I'd prefer not to do, but have done multiple times because the little one needed me with her. So even though I HATE this slide, I'd resigned myself to doing it and all the other scary slides. The kids talked about riding it, but then they saw THE BIG ONE. I'm talking death-defying, scary, I don't know why they have this stupid slide, and why millions of people haven't DIED on it, but I'm sure I will be the first. So we headed toward it.
Which was when the skies got dark, the clouds rolled in, and little raindrops began falling. We decided to let the little one ride a kiddie slide to see if the storm would blow over. We discovered that the kiddie pool is thousands of degrees warmer than the other pools, which made me and the little one want to stay there because it had gotten a lot colder all of a sudden. Our cousin and older daughter were still plotting about riding THE BIG ONE.
And then we saw it. Lightning streaking across the sky, which caused the lifeguard whistles to shriek the blessed sound- everyone out of the water.
We went back to our covered area to wait out the storm. An hour later, the storm had not subsided, they closed the park, and we went home bearing rain checks for another day of fun.
Bullet dodged.
I had a great day, despite being nervous about all the scary rides to come, and I didn't have to go on a single ride I didn't want to. That said, we have in our possession passes to go on another day. And knowing my kids, I'm not sure I'm going to get so lucky next time.
How do you deal with having kids who need you to do things that scare you?
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Tuesday Tea Time: Tea & Sympathy
I love tea! And in honor of my good friend Allie Pleiter, who has an amazing knitting blog called Destiknitions, featuring all of the cool knitting places she visits on her trips, I'm going to celebrate and highlight all the great tea shops I visit.
During my New York trip, I had an amazing time visiting all sorts of wonderful tea places. Today's tea place is a wonderful spot called Tea & Sympathy. Now, I'd be remiss if I didn't tell the story of how we actually found this little gem.
I was with my dear friend, Camy Tang, another tea aficionado, and Fiona Harper, on our way to attend a friend's church. Yes, sometimes we go to church during writing conferences. Anyway, Camy had put the address into her iPhone wrong, so we ended up in the wrong part of town, and had to adjust. Our adjusted directions took us right past this tea shop and both Camy and I gushed over how cute it was. Since we were already late to church, it was tempting to stop, but I was determined to get to church because we had set that goal, and I do not miss goals. We made a vow to stop on the way back from church. And we did.
What was so great about going to this tea place is that Fiona is from England. She was so excited to be able to have a real taste of home- something she wasn't anticipating. I should add that she gave her thumbs up. :)
As for me... all I have to say is how have I lived my life without eating the exquisite concoction known as bacon? Not the bacon we get here in the States, but real English bacon. I had a wonderful time in church, but man, oh man, the truly spiritual experience came from eating that bacon.
The tea- I had the Earl Grey. Earl is one of the few boyfriends hubby approves of my having. In fact, he quite insists upon it. Earl is my standby whenever I don't know what to order or I'm overwhelmed, or I just need some comfort. In this case, I was absolutely parched and starving, and I didn't want to try anything new. Now, they say it's their special blend. Personally, I thought it was a little weak. I don't know if it was the blend or if they brew weaker tea. I like mine the way I like my men, burly, strong, and memorable. At least when I'm talking about my boyfriend the Earl. Camy and Fiona had the English Breakfast, and they enjoyed it.
That said, the food more than made up for it, and when I head back to the Big Apple, it's on my list of places to visit. I'll try a different blend of tea, because what I had wasn't bad, but I'm always eager to explore other varieties.
The decor was absolutely incredible, very quaint and tiny. Definitely a tight fit. But well worth it.
So if you're in the area, go! And, if you're there on a Sunday, visit Christ Church, which holds services only a few blocks away. They meet in a Seventh Day Adventist church, which is absolutely beautiful and has quite the history. I wish we could have spent more time just exploring the church building. Aside from the building, the teaching was wonderful, and the people were very friendly. Definitely the kind of church home I'd want if I lived in New York. Even if you don't live there, it's still a wonderful environment for visit.
I'm not sure which experience you'll find more spiritual, because both were quite excellent.
 |
| Tea & Sympathy |
 | |
| Danica, Fiona, Camy |
I was with my dear friend, Camy Tang, another tea aficionado, and Fiona Harper, on our way to attend a friend's church. Yes, sometimes we go to church during writing conferences. Anyway, Camy had put the address into her iPhone wrong, so we ended up in the wrong part of town, and had to adjust. Our adjusted directions took us right past this tea shop and both Camy and I gushed over how cute it was. Since we were already late to church, it was tempting to stop, but I was determined to get to church because we had set that goal, and I do not miss goals. We made a vow to stop on the way back from church. And we did.
What was so great about going to this tea place is that Fiona is from England. She was so excited to be able to have a real taste of home- something she wasn't anticipating. I should add that she gave her thumbs up. :)
 |
| Note the bacon behind the sausage |
 | |
| TEA! |
 |
| Super tiny but cute! |
The decor was absolutely incredible, very quaint and tiny. Definitely a tight fit. But well worth it.
 |
| The outside of the church |
 |
| Inside- photos don't do it justice |
I'm not sure which experience you'll find more spiritual, because both were quite excellent.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Peaceful patio day
Since the arrival of spring, I've been eagerly anticipating working on my back patio. The problem is that it's been a total mess. Over the winter, if hubby didn't know where to put something and needed to keep it dry, he stashed it on the patio. Which led to a very big mess. For whatever reason, I don't work well in a messy environment. So I've looked longingly at the patio, given hubby lots of not-so-subtle hints about wanting it cleaned off, and... waited.
Last week, I was talking with my FIL about having a family barbecue, which he wanted to do, but with all of his travel and his house being under construction, couldn't host. And so... I volunteered. Which meant, of course, that I had the perfect
And so... here I am. Yesterday's barbecue was a success, and I am sitting at our patio table, listening to the fountain (that had been broken, but hubby fixed during the great patio cleanup), and am now happily working. I'm not bothered by the roll of thunder in the distance because it's a covered patio and we weathered the storm nicely yesterday. In fact, I'm looking forward to the soothing sound of the rain as I work in the fresh air. I'm so inspired that I know I'm going to get a lot done today.
What about you? What kind of working conditions do you need to feel productive?
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
Dude... where'd my month go
Well, okay, I've never actually seen the whole movie, "Dude, where's my car," but I seriously feel as close to that way as I can about June. So here's the quick recap, then we'll be happily into July, and life will be good, yes?
I got a really bad summer cold, during which time I was very high on cold medicine. I didn't want to be sick for RWA, so I took EVERYTHING. But that left me floundering to do much more than work and sleep. The great thing about working from home is that I'd work for an hour, nap for an hour, work for an hour, and so on. But that left me unable to do half of what I'd hoped to accomplish before my trip, and now that I'm home, I have soooo much to do.
I got well just in time to go to RWA. I was really nervous about flying with a cold, but fortunately, I woke up the morning of my flight feeling great, and I haven't felt sick since. Yay me!
RWA... well, that is way too much for this blog post, so once I am caught up elsewhere, I will tell you all about it!
How do you prioritize? Tips would be greatly appreciated!
I got a really bad summer cold, during which time I was very high on cold medicine. I didn't want to be sick for RWA, so I took EVERYTHING. But that left me floundering to do much more than work and sleep. The great thing about working from home is that I'd work for an hour, nap for an hour, work for an hour, and so on. But that left me unable to do half of what I'd hoped to accomplish before my trip, and now that I'm home, I have soooo much to do.
I got well just in time to go to RWA. I was really nervous about flying with a cold, but fortunately, I woke up the morning of my flight feeling great, and I haven't felt sick since. Yay me!
RWA... well, that is way too much for this blog post, so once I am caught up elsewhere, I will tell you all about it!
How do you prioritize? Tips would be greatly appreciated!
Monday, June 13, 2011
Meet me in St. Louis (again!)
I know, I'm a dork, but I sing that song in my head every time St. Louis comes up. I can't help it. Meet Me in St. Louis is one of my all-time favorite movies. You've got to love anything featuring Judy Garland and The World's Fair. Plus, St. Louis is a great city, great place, and I loved going there for our ACFW spring(ish) board meeting to look at plans for this year's conference. As I have mentioned before, I am STILL bitter that there is no fair, BUT, with all the great conference stuff going on, I probably wouldn't have time. Okay, I know I wouldn't have time.
Speaking of not having time, there is one thing you MUST make time for. And that is to stop by the conference bookstore. This year, due to space restrictions and those silly people who write the fire code (yeah, okay, they only want us to be safe), we are not having a booksigning. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't go to the bookstore. In fact, it means even more that you need to stop in and buy your favorite books. THEN, you can use it as an excuse to meet your favorite authors. If the book is in the bookstore, that means the author is at the conference.
Now, if you are like me and have a high degree of stranger anxiety and approaching a total stranger to sign a book makes you break out into hives, I've got a few tips for meeting your favorite authors (and getting your books signed!).
1. DON'T be afraid. Authors really are humans, just like you and me. In fact, a lot of them are just as shy and insecure as we are, and they love meeting someone face to face who has something nice to say about their books.
2. DO be respectful of their time. Many people at conference have very busy schedules, so they probably won't have an hour to spend with you. But if you don't catch them in the restroom (ICK!) or rushing to the meeting they were supposed to be at five minutes ago, they will probably have a minute or two to sign your book.
3. DON'T harbor unrealistic expectations. Just like with meeting editors and agents, an author you've just met isn't going to hook you up with an editor, publisher, give you an endorsement, or critique your book. Use the meeting for what it is- a chance to meet your favorite author. If the two of you are meant to be BFFs (it could happen), that relationship will build over time.
And here's a tip for the authors...
If you have a newbie approach you, hand shaking, and ask to sign your newest release, please be gracious, knowing that some of us are terrified of you. You may not think you have fangs, but many newbies believe that the only reason your fangs are not showing is that you take a secret author potion to hide your super-human abilities because you don't want us to know that you're really a sub-species of humans known as supercoolusauthorusterrificus. Yeah, I know, you wish... but that's what the underground is saying.
Another thing you don't want to miss, which also happens to be in the bookstore, is the Silent Auction. Every year, we hold this auction to raise money for the Scholarship Foundation to offer scholarships to members who can't otherwise attend conference. We always have lots of great items, so be sure to bid early and bid often. You will need cash or check to pay for the items if you win, so be prepared.
In conclusion- Go to St. Louis. Bypass the non-existent fair. Head to the ACFW bookstore. Buy books. Bid on items at the Silent Auction to raise money for the Scholarship Fund. Find your favorite authors and gush over their books, then get them to sign all the books you bought at the bookstore.
Sounds like a super fun time to me! (Almost as good as the fair!)
Speaking of not having time, there is one thing you MUST make time for. And that is to stop by the conference bookstore. This year, due to space restrictions and those silly people who write the fire code (yeah, okay, they only want us to be safe), we are not having a booksigning. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't go to the bookstore. In fact, it means even more that you need to stop in and buy your favorite books. THEN, you can use it as an excuse to meet your favorite authors. If the book is in the bookstore, that means the author is at the conference.
Now, if you are like me and have a high degree of stranger anxiety and approaching a total stranger to sign a book makes you break out into hives, I've got a few tips for meeting your favorite authors (and getting your books signed!).
1. DON'T be afraid. Authors really are humans, just like you and me. In fact, a lot of them are just as shy and insecure as we are, and they love meeting someone face to face who has something nice to say about their books.
2. DO be respectful of their time. Many people at conference have very busy schedules, so they probably won't have an hour to spend with you. But if you don't catch them in the restroom (ICK!) or rushing to the meeting they were supposed to be at five minutes ago, they will probably have a minute or two to sign your book.
3. DON'T harbor unrealistic expectations. Just like with meeting editors and agents, an author you've just met isn't going to hook you up with an editor, publisher, give you an endorsement, or critique your book. Use the meeting for what it is- a chance to meet your favorite author. If the two of you are meant to be BFFs (it could happen), that relationship will build over time.
And here's a tip for the authors...
If you have a newbie approach you, hand shaking, and ask to sign your newest release, please be gracious, knowing that some of us are terrified of you. You may not think you have fangs, but many newbies believe that the only reason your fangs are not showing is that you take a secret author potion to hide your super-human abilities because you don't want us to know that you're really a sub-species of humans known as supercoolusauthorusterrificus. Yeah, I know, you wish... but that's what the underground is saying.
Another thing you don't want to miss, which also happens to be in the bookstore, is the Silent Auction. Every year, we hold this auction to raise money for the Scholarship Foundation to offer scholarships to members who can't otherwise attend conference. We always have lots of great items, so be sure to bid early and bid often. You will need cash or check to pay for the items if you win, so be prepared.
In conclusion- Go to St. Louis. Bypass the non-existent fair. Head to the ACFW bookstore. Buy books. Bid on items at the Silent Auction to raise money for the Scholarship Fund. Find your favorite authors and gush over their books, then get them to sign all the books you bought at the bookstore.
Sounds like a super fun time to me! (Almost as good as the fair!)
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
More on that kicking and screaming thing
So picture, if you will, a romantic dinner at a fondue restaurant to celebrate our 12th anniversary. A wonderful meal, followed by a romantic walk. Then, since we had the babysitter a while longer, we decided to take a drive.
Next thing I know, we're heading toward this shopping center. I asked hubby why we were going there, and he said, "There's a Verizon store here."
And then I knew.
The man spent the evening wining and dining me to butter me up because he was going to make me face the inevitable. Yes, friends, I bought a new phone. The switch to hubby's phone was not successful. Compared to my older phone, it was an even bigger piece of crap. And hubby said I couldn't have my old phone back. So I got a new phone.
Behold...
My new phone. It has a case and a cover and all the stuff to protect it, but it's blue with a black case. I got the kind that slides so you can text easier. I figured if I'm going to be shoved into the information age, I might as well have something to make the information age easier.
I will say that it is very pretty. Much prettier than my old phone. I miss my old phone still. And, for those of you who are wondering, according to the Verizon guy, I got my last phone in July 2004. I think I traumatized the poor guy with my angst over a new phone. I told him that he really earned his pay with me today.
So there it is. How my husband romanced his way into making me get a new phone. I may or may not be happy about this. I had no idea how many difficult decisions were required of me in choosing this phone. Way too much stress for me.
Speaking of stress... my old ringtone is not available on the new phone. I don't like the ones that come on my new phone. So I visited the Verizon ringtone store and I am overwhelmed by my choices.
The change is going to kill me....
Next thing I know, we're heading toward this shopping center. I asked hubby why we were going there, and he said, "There's a Verizon store here."
And then I knew.
The man spent the evening wining and dining me to butter me up because he was going to make me face the inevitable. Yes, friends, I bought a new phone. The switch to hubby's phone was not successful. Compared to my older phone, it was an even bigger piece of crap. And hubby said I couldn't have my old phone back. So I got a new phone.
Behold...
I will say that it is very pretty. Much prettier than my old phone. I miss my old phone still. And, for those of you who are wondering, according to the Verizon guy, I got my last phone in July 2004. I think I traumatized the poor guy with my angst over a new phone. I told him that he really earned his pay with me today.
So there it is. How my husband romanced his way into making me get a new phone. I may or may not be happy about this. I had no idea how many difficult decisions were required of me in choosing this phone. Way too much stress for me.
Speaking of stress... my old ringtone is not available on the new phone. I don't like the ones that come on my new phone. So I visited the Verizon ringtone store and I am overwhelmed by my choices.
The change is going to kill me....
Monday, June 06, 2011
My Foolish Heart by Susan May Warren
Caleb Knight served a tour of duty in Iraq and paid a steep price. The last thing he wants is pity, so he hides his disability and moves to Deep Haven to land his dream job as the high school football coach. When his beautiful neighbor catches his eye, in a moment of desperation he seeks advice from My Foolish Heart, the show that airs before his favorite sports broadcast.
Before he knows it, Caleb finds himself drawn to the host—and more confused than ever. Is his perfect love the woman on the radio . . . or the one next door?
My Review:
Who doesn't like a book by Susan May Warren? Well, don't answer that, or else you may not like the results. :) This is definitely a book like what I've come to expect by Susie. It's fun, but also packs a great romance that makes for an enjoyable read. I remember listening to her talk while she was writing this book, and I love how she sprinkles so much truth into her stories without making you think you're getting a sermon. I really enjoyed this book a lot.
Susan May Warren is thrilled to announce the release of her latest Deep Haven book, My Foolish Heart
!Read what the reviewers are saying here.
To celebrate this charming novel about a dating expert who's never had a date, Susan has put together a romantic night on the town for one lucky couple. One grand prize winner will receive a Miss Foolish Heart prize package worth over $200!
The winner of the Romantic Night on the Town Prize Pack will receive:
* A $100 Visa Gift Card (For Dinner)
* A $100 Gift Certificate to a Hyatt/Marriott Hotel
* The entire Deep Haven series
To enter just click one of the icons below. But, hurry, the giveaway ends at noon on June 16th. The winner will be announced that evening during Susan’s Miss Foolish Heart Party on Facebook! Susan will be chatting with guests, hosting a book club chat about My Foolish Heart, testing your Deep Haven trivia skills, and giving away tons of great stuff! (Gift certificates, books, donuts, and more!) Don't miss the fun and BRING YOUR FRIENDS!
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Day two of summer vacation: it just might kill me
You know how Vacation Bible Schools have their silly summer themes? Well, I've got my own summer theme- it just might kill me.
I started with a plan. Because I work from home and my hours are inching closer to full-time, I don't have the luxury of being able to entertain my children all summer long. And frankly, at 7 and 10, I shouldn't have to. So, I created a chore chart. I thought it quite brilliant, because I have a whole list of items. Some are mandatory, and others optional, but each day, the 7 year old has to do 7, and the 10 year old has to do 10. Logical, yes??
On day one, the 10 year old started off like a rock star. She did all her chores, plus some extra, and was done by noon. The 7 year old, not so much. She's still cleaning her room from yesterday and didn't come close to doing her 7 for the day. (And many of the tasks are easy, like brushing teeth and hair- she did those.)
I was given the suggestion by a counselor, that since she's being so defiant about the whole thing, that this is an area where I should spank. Yes, I know, some people are against it, but this is a professional, and she did give me specific tips on how to do it appropriately. So... using her tips, last night, I spanked the 7yo once. I had to go to knitting group, and I usually get home after they've gone to bed, so I told her, "if your room is not clean when I get home, tomorrow, I will spank you again."
I got home after bedtime, and she was waiting up for me, crying. She didn't want to wait until morning to get her spanking, so she'd gone to get the spanking spoon and wanted her spanking now. For which hubby and I had to give her some credit. She didn't want to spend all night dreading the spanking, so she asked to get it over with. And we did.
Which brings us to this morning, and a new deadline. If she doesn't meet the deadline, she's getting another spanking. Fortunately for both of us, when I peeked in her room, she looked like she was going to meet the deadline. Of course, she should have been able to meet the last three, but this one, I think will happen.
The whole goal of my grand summer plan was to keep the kids occupied without relying on the electronic babysitter, so I can work. But I'm starting to think that instead of giving me more sanity, it may kill me.
I started with a plan. Because I work from home and my hours are inching closer to full-time, I don't have the luxury of being able to entertain my children all summer long. And frankly, at 7 and 10, I shouldn't have to. So, I created a chore chart. I thought it quite brilliant, because I have a whole list of items. Some are mandatory, and others optional, but each day, the 7 year old has to do 7, and the 10 year old has to do 10. Logical, yes??
On day one, the 10 year old started off like a rock star. She did all her chores, plus some extra, and was done by noon. The 7 year old, not so much. She's still cleaning her room from yesterday and didn't come close to doing her 7 for the day. (And many of the tasks are easy, like brushing teeth and hair- she did those.)
I was given the suggestion by a counselor, that since she's being so defiant about the whole thing, that this is an area where I should spank. Yes, I know, some people are against it, but this is a professional, and she did give me specific tips on how to do it appropriately. So... using her tips, last night, I spanked the 7yo once. I had to go to knitting group, and I usually get home after they've gone to bed, so I told her, "if your room is not clean when I get home, tomorrow, I will spank you again."
I got home after bedtime, and she was waiting up for me, crying. She didn't want to wait until morning to get her spanking, so she'd gone to get the spanking spoon and wanted her spanking now. For which hubby and I had to give her some credit. She didn't want to spend all night dreading the spanking, so she asked to get it over with. And we did.
Which brings us to this morning, and a new deadline. If she doesn't meet the deadline, she's getting another spanking. Fortunately for both of us, when I peeked in her room, she looked like she was going to meet the deadline. Of course, she should have been able to meet the last three, but this one, I think will happen.
The whole goal of my grand summer plan was to keep the kids occupied without relying on the electronic babysitter, so I can work. But I'm starting to think that instead of giving me more sanity, it may kill me.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
All the people at the U2 concert
One of the other things I loved about the U2 concert was the variety of people. It was so interesting to see people of all ages- young boys sat with their parents in the row in front of us, and an older couple sat behind us. I also had to come to grips with the fact that we're no longer in the young, hip crowd. Well, okay, we were probably never in the hip crowd, but I am starting to realize that we're no longer as young as I'd like to think we are.
Still, it was funny to see the variety. And to be able to tell pretty quickly who the die-hard fans were. I told hubby that the guy sitting next to me probably hasn't heard any of their albums other than The Joshua Tree. This guy sat there drinking his beer and looking bored through everything but those songs. The kids seemed to only know the songs from the recent albums. And then, there were folks like us who knew and loved all the songs. I don't think there is a bad U2 song out there. Which was why the variety of songs U2 played was great. Other than, of course, The Great Disappointment. *sigh*
My one complaint about the people is that there were people near us smoking pot. Ugh. Now, I don't have anything against people who smoke pot. They can smoke it if they want to, just don't smoke it around me. This is the first concert I've been to where people were smoking it. I guess maybe I'm too sheltered or something, or maybe I just go to the wrong concerts. But YUCK!! Save that for The Grateful Dead or one of those other bands. It was pretty interesting, though, because some songs seemed to be the pot smoking songs. I wouldn't smell it for a while, and then U2 would start playing another song, and the pot smokers would light up. I asked hubby (who didn't know) how much of that it would take to get a contact high- I didn't feel any different, other than a little queasy because the smell of that stuff makes me sick. So, ew.
I think U2 is one of the few bands I can go see and notice a whole cross-section of people from all parts of society. I really appreciate that. We rode a train with an older successful-looking couple, a young couple with tattoos and piercings, a dad with his two pre-teen kids, a group of ladies who seemed to be out having a ladies' night out, and I think that's what made it so great. Everyone was there, and could be who they were, and it was all good. I love that.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
U2 and sound...
I was just telling someone at church tonight that I've had a hard time listening to U2 since the concert. Hubby pointed out that he read in the program that their songs were made to be played live (and I think I already mentioned), and it's definitely hitting home post-concert as I try to listen to my favorite songs. It just doesn't sound right.
Speaking of sounding right... big kudos to the U2 sound guys. I mean that, I really do. This is the first concert I've been to in a long time that I didn't need earplugs and my ears didn't hurt afterward. I think that says a lot to talent of the people behind the scenes. And okay, U2 probably can afford the best equipment out there that produces good quality sound without killing people's ears. But still, I know some sound guys, and they'll all tell you that it can still sound good and not be so loud that everyone goes deaf. Which U2 proved during their Denver show.
I haven't talked about The Fray, but since we're on the topic of sound quality, well... the vocals were really muffled at times. So I didn't enjoy them as much as I would have liked- I don't know their songs nearly as well as U2's, so when I couldn't understand the vocals, it was like listening to "blah blah blah." But you could tell the guys put their hearts into it, and they otherwise did a nice job. Back to U2...
As I told my friend tonight, you really don't know U2 until you've been to one of their shows. There's something really beautiful and organic about their sound and the way the music flows that you just can't duplicate on an album. And, even though we do have a concert DVD from their LA show, the DVD doesn't capture the sound as well as being there. Being surrounded by the sound and the people creates a special symphony you can only experience live.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Oh, the ideas...
The trouble with being a writer is that the ideas never stop. So there I was, at a U2 concert, surrounded by a million different people (okay, over 70,000), which means plenty of fodder for book ideas.
Because I don't want to get the attention of U2 security, or give any wackos ideas, I'll be non-specific about most of them. However, as I sat in a completely full stadium, I couldn't help but think of The Sum of All Fears. Great movie, great book, and super scary, because as I sat at Invesco Field, I realized how easy it would be. It wasn't like we went through metal detectors or anything like that. Security guys looked in our bags (but not very thoroughly, IMO), and then asked if our bottled water was factory sealed (it was). My point being, any number of the 70,000+ attendees could have been carrying weapons and completely gotten through, and... there we have The Sum of All Fears. OR, we could have had something like what we saw in The Event's finale... what if someone came to the concert with the intent of infecting concertgoers with a massive species-ending virus so that aliens could take over our planet? (Which would totally fit in with some of U2's space themes from the night.)
On top of that, it was supposedly Doomsday. From what I heard, there was supposed to be a massive earthquake to start off the end of the world. So as I sat in this big metal stadium, I wondered... what would happen if a massive earthquake hit right now? Is Invesco Field built to withstand an earthquake? What magnitude? What would a natural disaster look like with all those people trapped in that big bowl? It was a zoo trying to get out to light rail to get home, I can't imagine what a rescue response would have looked like trying to help that many people. But it would make for great fiction.
All right, so let's get beyond the massive incidents. What about seemingly benign things, like when I was in the restroom. A woman exited the stall, so the next lady went in to that stall, and called out to her, "Hey, you left your beer in here." The woman replied, "it was there when I got in." Wouldn't you know, I ended up in that stall, with that leftover beer? What if that beer had been spiked with something, and the woman who left it there was stashed in a closet somewhere, dead? What if that beer was the only clue to the woman's disappearance? Or maybe she was raptured... leaving behind her beer at a U2 concert?
Or... as was the problem at the concert (70K+ people, go figure), the restroom lines were ridiculous. I was behind about 50 people waiting my turn, when a woman came by and said, "hey, did you know there's a virtually empty restroom over there?" Of course, we all went to the place she indicated, but what if it had been a lure for more nefarious dealings?
Then there was the helicopter circling the place. First off, I want to know why they had to have a police helicopter circling a concert venue. Anyone know for real? Me, I kept thinking that at some point, it was going to shoot missiles into the place. And then, I saw a plane come dangerously close to the helicopter. Hubby and I thought for sure those two were going to crash into each other. Wouldn't that have been something? A plane crashing into a helicopter over a U2 concert. Not even Bono could have planned that.
The sad thing was, hubby thoroughly did not appreciate all of my great ideas and conspiracy theories. I kept thinking it would have been so much more fun to have a writer friend with me who would appreciate all of my great ideas. Instead, I had to wait to blog about it... and here we are.
Do these pictures give you any ideas....
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Happy U2 Week!
Sooo...
The concert was FANTASTIC!! Those boys from Ireland know how to do it right. It was such a great concert that I'll be blogging about it all week. By the end of the week, you'll either be sick to death of U2 or you'll be sure to make the next one.
That said, we must discuss my great disappointment. They did not play "40." "40" is my all-time favorite song, and it has been since I first heard it. There is no song on earth that can top "40." Please do not try to argue with me on this point. Therefore, I am extremely bitter that when creating their setlist, U2 did not consult me. Nevermind the fact that we are not BFFs and do not have each other's phone numbers. We are also ignoring the fact that "40" has not been played at any of the venues for the 360 tour. Yes, I checked. After The Great Disappointment. So, if I find out they play it at any of the other 360 shows, I will be even more bitter. I'm just saying.
However... other than The Great Disappointment, I LOVED IT!!!! And, as I have begun sorting out my thoughts, there's no way I can cover it all in one blog post. Why? Because it was that great.
Here's the thing about U2, and they may have said this somewhere or maybe in the program hubby bought- their music is designed to be played live. You can't fully appreciate even your favorite U2 song unless you've heard them do it live. There's something powerful about being a part of the music as they are making it. (And yes, I've heard "40" live- on the Vertigo tour. It was awesome.)
When you go to a U2 concert, you're not just going to hear music. You're going for an experience unlike anything you've ever experienced. I've been to tons of concerts in my life- some I'll admit to, and others I won't. :) There is nothing like U2 out there.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
The end of a TV season and the return of some favorites
Well, this week was the season finale of all the shows I like watching. *sniff* *sniff* Whatever will I do with my time?
Maybe attack my growing TBR pile? Which is a good thing, only I can't fold laundry and read, so I don't know how my laundry is going to get done over the next few months while I wait for my TV shows to come back.
Here's what's in my lineup and my rundown (May contain spoilers):
Chuck: Okay, technically, I still have to watch the season finale, because hubby and I have a rule that we have to watch it together. I'm sort of holding off, because then I really won't have anything to watch. But I've seen enough spoilers out there that I'm already eager for the next season. Chuck, my beloved, I will be waiting.
Castle: I can't believe they are making us wait until fall!!! That said, I do not believe for a second that Kate is dead. If you recall, they did a season finale with Kate being blown up in her apartment and she survived that, so my bet is that Kate was wearing a vest. If they'd really wanted to kill her, they'd have done what they did when they killed another beloved TV Kate in NCIS and put a bullet in her head. Speaking of, what self-respecting sniper goes for the chest? I'm telling you, Kate is alive.
The Event: Seriously???? You cancel the show with THAT ending? Insert lots and lots of bad words. At least when they axed Jericho, they gave it a semi-satisfying ending. This left it so wide open that we have no idea what happened. Just when they started opening up more cans of worms, like, "we were here first." Normally, I hate shows with aliens, but this one had me hooked. They had to know it was on the chopping block, so why didn't they wrap it up rather than open up new mysteries. Jerks.
The Good Wife: Meh. That didn't feel like a season finale. So they finally got together. Woohoo. I will say their first kiss was arguably the sexiest first kiss I've seen in looooong time. I'm hoping they do something to shake things up (which, shouldn't that have been in the season finale?) more. I'm over the whole Cary hates Alicia thing. Grow up, Cary. He's got a lot of potential as a really interesting character, so let's not put him in the game of being a pawn in the Peter/Alicia battle.
For my summer pleasure, I am excited about the following:
White Collar:
FINALLY!!! At least I only have to wait until the first week of June for that one. My family will finally have clean clothes.
Burn Notice:
Another FINALLY!! Still, I think it's rude to make me wait until June 23rd to find out what it's going to look like for Michael being back in and what his relationship with Fiona will look like now that they're coming to grips with their relationship. (Get married and have lots of babies!!!)
Royal Pains:
I think USA is purposely tormenting us by staggering these premieres because I have to wait until June 29th. Let's see what happens next in these new chapters of everyone's lives. Come on, Divya!
Warehouse 13:
I don't know if I want to keep watching. We'll see July 11. If Myka is really gone, then so am I. *sniff*
Fairly Legal:
This was supposed to be a summer one, but it says that they're delaying until 2012.
Now, I would completely have harsh words for USA over the delay of another great (but sadly unappreciated show), except I'd like to point out something from my list. Did you notice that out of all the shows I watch, USA has the majority?
Here's why, and here's why the other shows I watch keep me coming back: they all have an ongoing mystery thread not solved in each episode. And when one thread gets resolved, another opens. But the show isn't all about the mystery thread (which, sadly, is why The Event didn't do so well). All of these shows (except for The Event) have stand-alone episodes that feed into the ongoing mystery.
What's on your TV watching agenda?
Maybe attack my growing TBR pile? Which is a good thing, only I can't fold laundry and read, so I don't know how my laundry is going to get done over the next few months while I wait for my TV shows to come back.
Here's what's in my lineup and my rundown (May contain spoilers):
Chuck: Okay, technically, I still have to watch the season finale, because hubby and I have a rule that we have to watch it together. I'm sort of holding off, because then I really won't have anything to watch. But I've seen enough spoilers out there that I'm already eager for the next season. Chuck, my beloved, I will be waiting.
Castle: I can't believe they are making us wait until fall!!! That said, I do not believe for a second that Kate is dead. If you recall, they did a season finale with Kate being blown up in her apartment and she survived that, so my bet is that Kate was wearing a vest. If they'd really wanted to kill her, they'd have done what they did when they killed another beloved TV Kate in NCIS and put a bullet in her head. Speaking of, what self-respecting sniper goes for the chest? I'm telling you, Kate is alive.
The Event: Seriously???? You cancel the show with THAT ending? Insert lots and lots of bad words. At least when they axed Jericho, they gave it a semi-satisfying ending. This left it so wide open that we have no idea what happened. Just when they started opening up more cans of worms, like, "we were here first." Normally, I hate shows with aliens, but this one had me hooked. They had to know it was on the chopping block, so why didn't they wrap it up rather than open up new mysteries. Jerks.
The Good Wife: Meh. That didn't feel like a season finale. So they finally got together. Woohoo. I will say their first kiss was arguably the sexiest first kiss I've seen in looooong time. I'm hoping they do something to shake things up (which, shouldn't that have been in the season finale?) more. I'm over the whole Cary hates Alicia thing. Grow up, Cary. He's got a lot of potential as a really interesting character, so let's not put him in the game of being a pawn in the Peter/Alicia battle.
For my summer pleasure, I am excited about the following:
White Collar:
FINALLY!!! At least I only have to wait until the first week of June for that one. My family will finally have clean clothes.
Burn Notice:
Another FINALLY!! Still, I think it's rude to make me wait until June 23rd to find out what it's going to look like for Michael being back in and what his relationship with Fiona will look like now that they're coming to grips with their relationship. (Get married and have lots of babies!!!)
Royal Pains:
I think USA is purposely tormenting us by staggering these premieres because I have to wait until June 29th. Let's see what happens next in these new chapters of everyone's lives. Come on, Divya!
Warehouse 13:
I don't know if I want to keep watching. We'll see July 11. If Myka is really gone, then so am I. *sniff*
Fairly Legal:
This was supposed to be a summer one, but it says that they're delaying until 2012.
Now, I would completely have harsh words for USA over the delay of another great (but sadly unappreciated show), except I'd like to point out something from my list. Did you notice that out of all the shows I watch, USA has the majority?
Here's why, and here's why the other shows I watch keep me coming back: they all have an ongoing mystery thread not solved in each episode. And when one thread gets resolved, another opens. But the show isn't all about the mystery thread (which, sadly, is why The Event didn't do so well). All of these shows (except for The Event) have stand-alone episodes that feed into the ongoing mystery.
What's on your TV watching agenda?
Monday, May 16, 2011
The Lightkeeper’s Ball by Colleen Coble
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
Thomas Nelson; 1 edition (April 19, 2011)
***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Colleen Coble’s thirty-five novels and novellas have won or finaled in awards ranging from the Romance Writers of America prestigious RITA, the Holt Medallion, the ACFW Book of the Year, the Daphne du Maurier, National Readers’ Choice, the Booksellers Best, and the 2009 Best Books of Indiana-Fiction award. She writes romantic mysteries because she loves to see justice prevail and love begin with a happy ending.
Visit the author's website.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Olivia seems to have it all, but her heart yearns for more.Olivia Stewart's family is one of the Four Hundred—the highest echelon of society in 1910. When her sister dies under mysterious circumstances, Olivia leaves their New York City home for Mercy Falls, California, to determine what befell Eleanor. She suspects Harrison Bennett, the man Eleanor planned to marry. But the more Olivia gets to know him, the more she doubts his guilt—and the more she is drawn to him herself.
When several attempts are made on her life, Olivia turns to Harrison for help. He takes her on a ride in his aeroplane, but then crashes, and they’re forced to spend two days alone together. With her reputation hanging by a thread, Harrison offers to marry her to make the situation right. As a charity ball to rebuild the Mercy Falls lighthouse draws near, she realizes she wants more than a sham engagement—she wants Harrison in her life forever. But her enemy plans to shatter the happiness she is ready to grasp. If Olivia dares to drop her masquerade, she just might see the path to true happiness.
Product Details:
List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson; 1 edition (April 19, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 159554268X
ISBN-13: 978-1595542687
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
The New York brownstone was just half a block down from the Astor mansion on Fifth Avenue, the most prestigious address in the country. The carriage, monogrammed with the Stewart emblem, rattled through the iron gates and came to a halt in front of the ornate doors. Assisted by the doorman, Olivia Stewart descended and rushed for the steps of her home. She was late for tea, and her mother would be furious. Mrs. Astor herself had agreed to join them today.
Olivia handed her hat to the maid, who opened the door. “They’re in the drawing room, Miss Olivia,” Goldia whispered. “Your mama is ready to pace the floor.”
Olivia patted at her hair, straightened her shoulders, and pinned a smile in place as she forced her stride to a ladylike stroll to join the other women. Two women turned to face her as she entered: her mother and Mrs. Astor. They wore identical expressions of disapproval.
“Olivia, there you are,” her mother said. “Sit down before your tea gets cold.”
Olivia pulled off her gloves as she settled into the Queen Anne chair beside Mrs. Astor. “I apologize for my tardiness,” she said. “A lorry filled with tomatoes overturned in the street, and my driver couldn’t get around it.”
Mrs. Astor’s face cleared. “Of course, my dear.” She sipped her tea from the delicate blue-and-white china. “Your dear mother and I were just discussing your prospects. It’s time you married.”
Oh dear. She’d hoped to engage in light conversation that had nothing to do with the fact that she was twenty-five and still unmarried. Her unmarried state distressed her if she let it, but every man her father brought to her wanted only her status. She doubted any of them had ever looked into her soul. “I’m honored you would care about my marital status, Mrs. Astor,” Olivia said.
“Mrs. Astor wants to hold a ball in your honor, Olivia,” her mother gushed. “She has a distant cousin coming to town whom she wants you to meet.”
Mrs. Astor nodded. “I believe you and Matthew would suit. He owns property just down the street.”
Olivia didn’t mistake the reference to the man’s money. Wealth would be sure to impact her mother. She opened her mouth to ask if the man was her age, then closed it at the warning glint in her mother’s eyes.
“He’s been widowed for fifteen years and is long overdue for a suitable wife,” Mrs. Astor said.
Olivia barely suppressed a sigh. So he was another of the decrepit gentlemen who showed up from time to time. “You’re very kind,” she said.
“He’s most suitable,” her mother said. “Most suitable.”
Olivia caught the implication. They spent the next half an hour discussing the date and the location. She tried to enter into the conversation with interest, but all she could do was imagine some gray-whiskered blue blood dancing her around the ballroom. She stifled a sigh of relief when Mrs. Astor took her leave and called for her carriage.
“I’ll be happy when you’re settled, Olivia,” her mother said when they returned to the drawing room. “Mrs. Astor is most kind.”
“She is indeed.” Olivia pleated her skirt with her fingers. “Do you ever wish you could go somewhere incognito, Mother? Where no one has expectations of you because you are a Stewart?”
Her mother put down her saucer with a clatter. “Whatever are you babbling about, my dear?”
“Haven’t you noticed that people look at us differently because we’re Stewarts? How is a man ever to love me for myself when all he sees is what my name can gain him? Men never see inside to the real me. They notice only that I’m a Stewart.”
“Have you been reading those novels again?” Her mother sniffed and narrowed her gaze on Olivia. “Marriage is about making suitable connections. You owe it to your future children to consider the life you give them. Love comes from respect. I would find it quite difficult to respect someone who didn’t have the gumption to make his way in the world. Besides, we need you to marry well. You’re twenty-five years old and I’ve indulged your romantic notions long enough. Heaven knows your sister’s marriage isn’t what I had in mind, essential though it may be. Someone has to keep the family name in good standing.”
Olivia knew what her duty demanded, but she didn’t have to like it. “Do all the suitable men have to be in their dotage?”
Her mother’s eyes sparked fire but before she spoke, Goldia appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Bennett is here, Mrs. Stewart.”
Olivia straightened in her chair. “Show him in. He’ll have news of Eleanor.”
Bennett appeared in the doorway moments later. He shouldn’t have been imposing. He stood only five-foot-three in his shoes, which were always freshly polished. He was slim, nearly gaunt, with a patrician nose and obsidian eyes. He’d always reminded Olivia of a snake about to strike. His expression never betrayed any emotion, and today was no exception. She’d never understood why her father entertained an acquaintance with the man let alone desired their families to be joined.
“Mr. Bennett.” She rose and extended her hand and tried not to flinch as he brushed his lips across it.
“Miss Olivia,” he said, releasing her hand. He moved to her mother’s chair and bowed over her extended hand.
Olivia sank back into her chair. “What do you hear of my sister? I have received no answer to any of my letters.”
He took a seat, steepled his fingers, and leaned forward. “That’s the reason for our meeting today. I fear I have bad news to impart.”
Her pulse thumped erratically against her ribcage. She wetted her lips and drew in a deep breath. “What news of Eleanor?” How bad could it be? Eleanor had gone to marry Harrison, a man she hardly knew. But she was in love with the idea of the Wild West, and therefore more than happy to marry the son of her father’s business partner.
He never blinked. “I shall just have to blurt it out then. I’m sorry to inform you that Eleanor is dead.”
Her mother moaned. Olivia stared at him. “I don’t believe it,” she said.
“I know, it’s a shock.”
There must have been some mistake. She searched his face for some clue that this was a jest. “What happened?”
He didn’t hold her gaze. “She drowned.”
“How?”
“No one knows. I’m sorry.”
Her mother stood and swayed. “What are you saying?” Her voice rose in a shriek. “Eleanor can’t be dead! Are you quite mad?”
He stood and took her arm. “I suggest you lie down, Mrs. Stewart. You’re quite pale.”
Her mother put her hands to her cheeks. “Tell me it isn’t true,” she begged. Then she keeled over in a dead faint.
#
Harrison Bennett tugged on his tie, glanced at his shoes to make sure no speck of dirt marred their perfection, then disembarked from his motorcar in front of the mansion. The cab had rolled up Nob Hill much too quickly for him to gather his courage to face the party. Electric lights pushed back the darkness from the curving brick driveway to the porch with its impressive white pillars. Doormen flanked the double doors at the entry. Through the large windows, he saw the ballroom. Ladies in luxurious gowns and gentlemen in tuxedos danced under glittering chandeliers, and their laughter tinkled on the wind.
His valet, Eugene, exited behind him. “I’ll wait in the kitchen, sir.”
Harrison adjusted his hat and strode with all the confidence he could muster to the front door. “Mr. Harrison Bennett,” he said to the doorman.
The man scanned the paper in his hand. “Welcome, Mr. Bennett. Mr. Rothschild is in the ballroom.”
Harrison thanked him and stepped into the opulent hall papered in gold foil. He went in the direction of the voices with a sense of purpose. This night could change his future. He glanced around the enormous ballroom, and he recognized no one among the glittering gowns and expensive suits. In subtle ways, these nobs would try to keep him in his place. It would take all his gumption not to let them. It was a miracle he’d received an invitation. Only the very wealthy or titled were invited to the Rothschilds’ annual ball in San Francisco. Harrison was determined to do whatever was necessary to secure the contract inside his coat pocket.
A young woman in an evening gown fluttered her lashes at him over the top of her fan. When she lowered it, she approached with a coaxing smile on her lips. “Mr. Bennett, I’d hoped to see you here tonight.”
He struggled to remember her name. Miss Kessler. She’d made her interest in him known at Eleanor’s funeral. Hardly a suitable time. He took her gloved hand and bowed over it. “Miss Kessler. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“I came when I heard you were on the guest list.”
He ignored her brazen remark. “It’s good to see you again. I have some business to attend to. Perhaps later?”
Her eyes darkened and she withdrew her hand. “I shall watch for you,” she said.
And he’d do the same, with the intent to avoid her. “If you’ll excuse me.” He didn’t wait for an answer but strolled through the crowd. He finally spied his host standing in front of a marble fireplace. A flame danced in the eight-foot hearth. Harrison stepped through the crowd to join the four men clustered around the wealthy Rothschild.
The man closest to Harrison was in his fifties and had a curling mustache. “They’ll never get that amendment ratified,” he said. “An income tax! It’s quite ridiculous to expect us to pay something so outrageous.”
A younger man in a gray suit shook his head. “If it means better roads, I’ll gladly write them a check. The potholes outside of town ruined my front axels.”
“We can take care of our own roads,” Rothschild said. “I have no need of the government in my affairs. At least until we’re all using flying machines.” He snickered, then glanced at Harrison. “You look familiar, young man. Have we met?”
Flying machines. Maybe this meeting was something God had arranged. Harrison thrust out his hand. “Harrison Bennett.”
“Claude’s son?”’
Was that distaste in the twist of Rothschild’s mouth? Harrison put confidence into his grip. “Yes, sir.”
“How is your father?”
“Quite well. He’s back in New York by now.”
“I heard about your fiancée’s death. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Harrison managed not to wince. “Thank you.” He pushed away his memories of that terrible day, the day he’d seen Eleanor Stewart for what she really was.
“Your father was most insistent I meet you. He seems to think you have a business proposition I might be interested in.”
Harrison smiled and began to tell the men of the new diamond mines that Bennett and Bennett had found in Africa. A mere week after Mr. Stewart’s passing, Mr. Bennett had renamed the venture to include Harrison. An hour later, he had appointments set up with three of the men as possible investors. His father would be pleased.
Harrison smiled and retraced his steps to toward the front door but was waylaid by four women in brightly colored silk. They swooped around him, and Miss Kessler took him by the hand and led him to a quiet corner.
“Let’s not talk about anything boring like work,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling. “Tell me what you love to do most.”
He glanced at the other women clustered around. “I’m building an aeroplane. I’d like to have it in the air by the time Earth passes through the tail of Halley’s Comet.”
She gasped. “Do you have a death wish, Mr. Bennett? You would be breathing the poisonous fumes directly. No one even knows if the Earth will survive this.”
He’d heard this before. “The scientists I’ve discussed this with believe we shall be just fine,” Harrison said.
“I assume you’ve purchased comet pills?” the blonde closest to him said.
“I have no fear.”
The brunette in red silk smiled. “If man were meant to fly, God would have given him wings. Or so I’ve heard the minister say.”
He finally placed the brunette. Her uncle was Rothschild. No wonder she had such contempt for Harrison’s tone. All the nobs cared for were trains and ships. “It’s just a matter of perfecting the machine,” Harrison said. “Someday aeroplanes will be the main mode of transcontinental transportation.”
The brunette laughed. “Transcontinental? My uncle would call it balderdash.”
He glanced at his pocket watch without replying. “I fear I must leave you lovely ladies. Thank you for the conversation.”
He found Eugene in the kitchen and beckoned to his valet.
Eugene put down his coffee cup and followed. “You didn’t stay long, sir,” he said. “Is everything all right?”
Harrison stalked out the door and toward the car. “Are there no visionaries left in the country?”
Eugene followed a step behind. “You spoke of your flying machine?”
“The world is changing, Eugene, right under their noses—and they don’t see it.”
Eugene opened the door for Harrison. “You will show them the future, sir.”
He set his jaw. “I shall indeed.”
“I have a small savings set aside, Mr. Bennett. I’d like to invest in your company. With your permission, of course.”
Eugene’s trust bolstered Harrison’s determination. “I’d be honored to partner with you, Eugene. We are going to change the world.”
Olivia handed her hat to the maid, who opened the door. “They’re in the drawing room, Miss Olivia,” Goldia whispered. “Your mama is ready to pace the floor.”
Olivia patted at her hair, straightened her shoulders, and pinned a smile in place as she forced her stride to a ladylike stroll to join the other women. Two women turned to face her as she entered: her mother and Mrs. Astor. They wore identical expressions of disapproval.
“Olivia, there you are,” her mother said. “Sit down before your tea gets cold.”
Olivia pulled off her gloves as she settled into the Queen Anne chair beside Mrs. Astor. “I apologize for my tardiness,” she said. “A lorry filled with tomatoes overturned in the street, and my driver couldn’t get around it.”
Mrs. Astor’s face cleared. “Of course, my dear.” She sipped her tea from the delicate blue-and-white china. “Your dear mother and I were just discussing your prospects. It’s time you married.”
Oh dear. She’d hoped to engage in light conversation that had nothing to do with the fact that she was twenty-five and still unmarried. Her unmarried state distressed her if she let it, but every man her father brought to her wanted only her status. She doubted any of them had ever looked into her soul. “I’m honored you would care about my marital status, Mrs. Astor,” Olivia said.
“Mrs. Astor wants to hold a ball in your honor, Olivia,” her mother gushed. “She has a distant cousin coming to town whom she wants you to meet.”
Mrs. Astor nodded. “I believe you and Matthew would suit. He owns property just down the street.”
Olivia didn’t mistake the reference to the man’s money. Wealth would be sure to impact her mother. She opened her mouth to ask if the man was her age, then closed it at the warning glint in her mother’s eyes.
“He’s been widowed for fifteen years and is long overdue for a suitable wife,” Mrs. Astor said.
Olivia barely suppressed a sigh. So he was another of the decrepit gentlemen who showed up from time to time. “You’re very kind,” she said.
“He’s most suitable,” her mother said. “Most suitable.”
Olivia caught the implication. They spent the next half an hour discussing the date and the location. She tried to enter into the conversation with interest, but all she could do was imagine some gray-whiskered blue blood dancing her around the ballroom. She stifled a sigh of relief when Mrs. Astor took her leave and called for her carriage.
“I’ll be happy when you’re settled, Olivia,” her mother said when they returned to the drawing room. “Mrs. Astor is most kind.”
“She is indeed.” Olivia pleated her skirt with her fingers. “Do you ever wish you could go somewhere incognito, Mother? Where no one has expectations of you because you are a Stewart?”
Her mother put down her saucer with a clatter. “Whatever are you babbling about, my dear?”
“Haven’t you noticed that people look at us differently because we’re Stewarts? How is a man ever to love me for myself when all he sees is what my name can gain him? Men never see inside to the real me. They notice only that I’m a Stewart.”
“Have you been reading those novels again?” Her mother sniffed and narrowed her gaze on Olivia. “Marriage is about making suitable connections. You owe it to your future children to consider the life you give them. Love comes from respect. I would find it quite difficult to respect someone who didn’t have the gumption to make his way in the world. Besides, we need you to marry well. You’re twenty-five years old and I’ve indulged your romantic notions long enough. Heaven knows your sister’s marriage isn’t what I had in mind, essential though it may be. Someone has to keep the family name in good standing.”
Olivia knew what her duty demanded, but she didn’t have to like it. “Do all the suitable men have to be in their dotage?”
Her mother’s eyes sparked fire but before she spoke, Goldia appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Bennett is here, Mrs. Stewart.”
Olivia straightened in her chair. “Show him in. He’ll have news of Eleanor.”
Bennett appeared in the doorway moments later. He shouldn’t have been imposing. He stood only five-foot-three in his shoes, which were always freshly polished. He was slim, nearly gaunt, with a patrician nose and obsidian eyes. He’d always reminded Olivia of a snake about to strike. His expression never betrayed any emotion, and today was no exception. She’d never understood why her father entertained an acquaintance with the man let alone desired their families to be joined.
“Mr. Bennett.” She rose and extended her hand and tried not to flinch as he brushed his lips across it.
“Miss Olivia,” he said, releasing her hand. He moved to her mother’s chair and bowed over her extended hand.
Olivia sank back into her chair. “What do you hear of my sister? I have received no answer to any of my letters.”
He took a seat, steepled his fingers, and leaned forward. “That’s the reason for our meeting today. I fear I have bad news to impart.”
Her pulse thumped erratically against her ribcage. She wetted her lips and drew in a deep breath. “What news of Eleanor?” How bad could it be? Eleanor had gone to marry Harrison, a man she hardly knew. But she was in love with the idea of the Wild West, and therefore more than happy to marry the son of her father’s business partner.
He never blinked. “I shall just have to blurt it out then. I’m sorry to inform you that Eleanor is dead.”
Her mother moaned. Olivia stared at him. “I don’t believe it,” she said.
“I know, it’s a shock.”
There must have been some mistake. She searched his face for some clue that this was a jest. “What happened?”
He didn’t hold her gaze. “She drowned.”
“How?”
“No one knows. I’m sorry.”
Her mother stood and swayed. “What are you saying?” Her voice rose in a shriek. “Eleanor can’t be dead! Are you quite mad?”
He stood and took her arm. “I suggest you lie down, Mrs. Stewart. You’re quite pale.”
Her mother put her hands to her cheeks. “Tell me it isn’t true,” she begged. Then she keeled over in a dead faint.
#
Harrison Bennett tugged on his tie, glanced at his shoes to make sure no speck of dirt marred their perfection, then disembarked from his motorcar in front of the mansion. The cab had rolled up Nob Hill much too quickly for him to gather his courage to face the party. Electric lights pushed back the darkness from the curving brick driveway to the porch with its impressive white pillars. Doormen flanked the double doors at the entry. Through the large windows, he saw the ballroom. Ladies in luxurious gowns and gentlemen in tuxedos danced under glittering chandeliers, and their laughter tinkled on the wind.
His valet, Eugene, exited behind him. “I’ll wait in the kitchen, sir.”
Harrison adjusted his hat and strode with all the confidence he could muster to the front door. “Mr. Harrison Bennett,” he said to the doorman.
The man scanned the paper in his hand. “Welcome, Mr. Bennett. Mr. Rothschild is in the ballroom.”
Harrison thanked him and stepped into the opulent hall papered in gold foil. He went in the direction of the voices with a sense of purpose. This night could change his future. He glanced around the enormous ballroom, and he recognized no one among the glittering gowns and expensive suits. In subtle ways, these nobs would try to keep him in his place. It would take all his gumption not to let them. It was a miracle he’d received an invitation. Only the very wealthy or titled were invited to the Rothschilds’ annual ball in San Francisco. Harrison was determined to do whatever was necessary to secure the contract inside his coat pocket.
A young woman in an evening gown fluttered her lashes at him over the top of her fan. When she lowered it, she approached with a coaxing smile on her lips. “Mr. Bennett, I’d hoped to see you here tonight.”
He struggled to remember her name. Miss Kessler. She’d made her interest in him known at Eleanor’s funeral. Hardly a suitable time. He took her gloved hand and bowed over it. “Miss Kessler. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“I came when I heard you were on the guest list.”
He ignored her brazen remark. “It’s good to see you again. I have some business to attend to. Perhaps later?”
Her eyes darkened and she withdrew her hand. “I shall watch for you,” she said.
And he’d do the same, with the intent to avoid her. “If you’ll excuse me.” He didn’t wait for an answer but strolled through the crowd. He finally spied his host standing in front of a marble fireplace. A flame danced in the eight-foot hearth. Harrison stepped through the crowd to join the four men clustered around the wealthy Rothschild.
The man closest to Harrison was in his fifties and had a curling mustache. “They’ll never get that amendment ratified,” he said. “An income tax! It’s quite ridiculous to expect us to pay something so outrageous.”
A younger man in a gray suit shook his head. “If it means better roads, I’ll gladly write them a check. The potholes outside of town ruined my front axels.”
“We can take care of our own roads,” Rothschild said. “I have no need of the government in my affairs. At least until we’re all using flying machines.” He snickered, then glanced at Harrison. “You look familiar, young man. Have we met?”
Flying machines. Maybe this meeting was something God had arranged. Harrison thrust out his hand. “Harrison Bennett.”
“Claude’s son?”’
Was that distaste in the twist of Rothschild’s mouth? Harrison put confidence into his grip. “Yes, sir.”
“How is your father?”
“Quite well. He’s back in New York by now.”
“I heard about your fiancée’s death. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Harrison managed not to wince. “Thank you.” He pushed away his memories of that terrible day, the day he’d seen Eleanor Stewart for what she really was.
“Your father was most insistent I meet you. He seems to think you have a business proposition I might be interested in.”
Harrison smiled and began to tell the men of the new diamond mines that Bennett and Bennett had found in Africa. A mere week after Mr. Stewart’s passing, Mr. Bennett had renamed the venture to include Harrison. An hour later, he had appointments set up with three of the men as possible investors. His father would be pleased.
Harrison smiled and retraced his steps to toward the front door but was waylaid by four women in brightly colored silk. They swooped around him, and Miss Kessler took him by the hand and led him to a quiet corner.
“Let’s not talk about anything boring like work,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling. “Tell me what you love to do most.”
He glanced at the other women clustered around. “I’m building an aeroplane. I’d like to have it in the air by the time Earth passes through the tail of Halley’s Comet.”
She gasped. “Do you have a death wish, Mr. Bennett? You would be breathing the poisonous fumes directly. No one even knows if the Earth will survive this.”
He’d heard this before. “The scientists I’ve discussed this with believe we shall be just fine,” Harrison said.
“I assume you’ve purchased comet pills?” the blonde closest to him said.
“I have no fear.”
The brunette in red silk smiled. “If man were meant to fly, God would have given him wings. Or so I’ve heard the minister say.”
He finally placed the brunette. Her uncle was Rothschild. No wonder she had such contempt for Harrison’s tone. All the nobs cared for were trains and ships. “It’s just a matter of perfecting the machine,” Harrison said. “Someday aeroplanes will be the main mode of transcontinental transportation.”
The brunette laughed. “Transcontinental? My uncle would call it balderdash.”
He glanced at his pocket watch without replying. “I fear I must leave you lovely ladies. Thank you for the conversation.”
He found Eugene in the kitchen and beckoned to his valet.
Eugene put down his coffee cup and followed. “You didn’t stay long, sir,” he said. “Is everything all right?”
Harrison stalked out the door and toward the car. “Are there no visionaries left in the country?”
Eugene followed a step behind. “You spoke of your flying machine?”
“The world is changing, Eugene, right under their noses—and they don’t see it.”
Eugene opened the door for Harrison. “You will show them the future, sir.”
He set his jaw. “I shall indeed.”
“I have a small savings set aside, Mr. Bennett. I’d like to invest in your company. With your permission, of course.”
Eugene’s trust bolstered Harrison’s determination. “I’d be honored to partner with you, Eugene. We are going to change the world.”
Thursday, May 12, 2011
My baby is 7
My Lenten project with her worked out okay... I kept forgetting to blog about it mostly because for her, the computer is a competitor for my attention, and so I tried really hard not to be on the computer when I was with her. Which meant less time to get all my work done. So I didn't follow through as much on my blog.
I did learn a few important things by taking that extra time with her. And I'm learning to re-prioritize some things and let go of things I thought were important, but in the grand scheme of things just aren't... at least not compared to my sweet little *sob* seven year old.
So in honor of her birthday (and really, I should do this more), I want to tell you seven things I love about my seven year old:
1. She's very creative. Some days I am amazed at how interesting her ideas are- I have no idea where she comes up with them.
2. She's a very loving girl. She will love on just about everyone. Even when she's at her worst, the people around her can't help but love her.
3. She has a vibrancy for life... I can't explain it other than to say that when she's in a room (unless she's in a bad mood, then look out), everything just sparkles more.
4. She's very girly. I never wanted a girly girl. But I'm learning that having her encourages me in more feminine pursuits, which is weird, but it can be fun. So I'm really glad I got one anyway.
5. She's eager to be helpful. If she sees me doing something, she'll often ask if she can help or do it with me. She likes to be recognized as a "helper."
6. Her laugh is contagious.
7. Even on the worst of the worst days, we have stolen moments, when she snuggles up to me, and gives me the sweetest look, and I know that she is worth it. I just love her!
And, because I can't get enough of my little angel, here's an explanation of the picture- she's practicing piano (because she wants to be a singer on stage when she grows up), wearing her soccer shoes (because she just played soccer in the yard with the neighbors. Note the girly shoes and socks.), and her girly ballerina outfit (because she just got back from dance lessons.). I'd also be remiss if I didn't point out her hairdo- she's growing out her bangs because that's the style her friends are going for, and she likes to make them "pretty," so she's got this funky bang ponytail, which she loves.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Another step in my technological evolution
I've already blogged about my Kindle, and how I'm being thrust into that next level of technological evolution.
Well, the time has come to take yet another step that I don't want to take.
Yes, friends, I am talking about getting a new cell phone. Please understand that I have purposely not upgraded my phone for um... well... I think we're nigh on seven years. I got the phone about the same time my almost 7yo graced us with her presence.
Everyone I know has a smart phone. I continue to resist the evils of being tethered to my email. You will not receive an email from me that has the "sent from my iphone" or "sent from my blackberry" message. I spend too much time online as it is, and I really don't want to be any more reachable than I already am. Plus, I don't want to learn a bunch more buttons or upgrade my calling plan.
I LIKE my phone. Over the past year or so, we've coaxed it into living a little longer, and every couple of months, hubby has to glue it back together. Well, he glued it last week, and it's already coming apart. So yesterday, he came to me in a very loving way, and said, "honey, we need to do something about your phone." I thought he meant gluing it again.
But no, he held up another phone and said, "I think we should talk about trying my old phone."
No, it's not a smartphone. It's a sleeker version of my poor old phone that he used until he upgraded to his current tough man-phone. I'm not sure I can handle this.
"Can we transfer all my stuff from my old phone to this one?" Like the cute video I have of my 2yo (now almost 7yo) daughter playing her toy piano and singing?
"Yes, dear."
"And if I don't like it, can I go back to my old phone?"
"Yes, dear."
Okay. I think I'm going to go for it. Why do I feel like a middle schooler being asked to give up my wubbie?
Well, the time has come to take yet another step that I don't want to take.
Yes, friends, I am talking about getting a new cell phone. Please understand that I have purposely not upgraded my phone for um... well... I think we're nigh on seven years. I got the phone about the same time my almost 7yo graced us with her presence.
Everyone I know has a smart phone. I continue to resist the evils of being tethered to my email. You will not receive an email from me that has the "sent from my iphone" or "sent from my blackberry" message. I spend too much time online as it is, and I really don't want to be any more reachable than I already am. Plus, I don't want to learn a bunch more buttons or upgrade my calling plan.
I LIKE my phone. Over the past year or so, we've coaxed it into living a little longer, and every couple of months, hubby has to glue it back together. Well, he glued it last week, and it's already coming apart. So yesterday, he came to me in a very loving way, and said, "honey, we need to do something about your phone." I thought he meant gluing it again.
But no, he held up another phone and said, "I think we should talk about trying my old phone."
No, it's not a smartphone. It's a sleeker version of my poor old phone that he used until he upgraded to his current tough man-phone. I'm not sure I can handle this.
"Can we transfer all my stuff from my old phone to this one?" Like the cute video I have of my 2yo (now almost 7yo) daughter playing her toy piano and singing?
"Yes, dear."
"And if I don't like it, can I go back to my old phone?"
"Yes, dear."
Okay. I think I'm going to go for it. Why do I feel like a middle schooler being asked to give up my wubbie?
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