Moms – Day No. 29

keep-calm-and-call-mom-76Today is Mrs. B’s 60th birthday. How is it possible my mother has gotten so old? I can still remember when she was my age… Oh God, I’m old!  Back when she was still getting carded. Back when she was teaching me and my sister, working as a nurse, and managing our gorgeous house. How did she do it all? Let’s just say I did not inherit any of that from her. My mother was like Sarah Jessica Parker in “I Don’t Know How She Does It“, which we just watched last night and is an incredibly good film. Watch it. You won’t be sorry.

Moms: they are so important, with the caveat that they are good moms. If you ahve a bad mom, then I’m truly sorry. My mom is great, and that’s not me just saying that because I’m supposed to. Sure, because we are nothing alike we have our moments  where we do not agree. At all. But even when  we have those moments, which seems to be more frequently, we still get along. I think. I trust Mom’s advice and she is who I do talk to when I need to vent. She can read me too well, and tends to do that regularly, sometimes to my annoyance, and other times where it’s really helpful.  As number 6 of the 13 Things No One Tells You About Being A Woman says:

6. The most complicated relationship you’ll have is with your mother. In your teens, you hate her, in your early 20’s you miss her, after that you rely on her advice as if it is Bible. Most women don’t want to become their mother, but they still love and respect her — and end up becoming much like her anyway.

It’s very true. Granted, I have not had the missing her part since I still live at home, but when she goes places for longer than I think she should, I worry about her. We have a unique relationship.

Mrs. B’s girlfriend is a great Mom. I watch how she loves her kids and I kind of get a gooey feeling like a hot brownie in my chest when I think about it. And if I needed a surrogate mom, I bet I could rely on her.  I actually know quite a few cool moms out there.

For years, I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to be married at 22, have four kids, home school them all, name one girl after my great-great-great grandmother; Phoebe. I had names picked out for my kids….. Sophie, Paul, Phillip, Rose, Charles….. Those are just some of the names. I had grand ideas about being a mom. While at the same time scared out of my wits that I could even be a mom.

But none of that has happened. And now part of me doesn’t want to be a mom. Oh sure, I want to have my own baby, but honestly, kids scare me. They scare the heck out of me. I don’t know what to do with them. I have never baby sat in my entire life except for once and that time scared the heck out of me and I was just next door watching the 8 year old boy for an hour… No big deal.  I view kids as ankle biters… You use a fly swatter to move them along…. Okay, maybe not that bad.

This is kind of ironic because I like writing children’s books. I like making things for kids. I like all that fun stuff. But I don’t know how to even talk with kids. Sigh. So I don’t think I would be a very good mom. But again< I’m not sure I want to be a mom> i like to think I could be a very cool aunt. Or if I married a man who was older and already had young grand kids… I could be a really cool young, hip grandma.

So, do you love your Mom?  Is Mom the most important person in your life? Do you agree with No. 6 above?


Girls Are Barracudas – Day No. 23

Scuba diver inside a group of sawtooth barracu...

Scuba diver inside a group of sawtooth barracudas in Koh Tao, Thailand (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Okay, first, stop laughing. I know you are laughing because Mr. B. burst out laughing the minute I said this at lunch today.  We were talking about how carpenter bees go to purple flowers. I said it’s because they are girls. Which they are. All black carpenter bees are female. Then Mr. B. said that they should go to things that are shiny because girls love shiny things. In which case, I replied, “All girls are Barracudas.” They immediately go to something shiny and bright and sparkly.  I should know. I have been a big shiny picker upper for years. When I was younger, no bolt, screw, washer, nut, or melted solder was safe from my grubby little hands. I picked up anything shiny. When we would go to the mountains, empty shell casings were extremely popular due to the brass. And don’t even get me started on the steel or aluminum ones.

star glitterAs time goes by, yep, I still like shiny. I’m more sophisticated, liking such things as rings, glittery necklaces, and well, more expensive things. I have this love of more expensive things. Go figure. I believe I inherited it from my great-grandmother who saw a cute little car years ago and wanted it, but my great grandfather said no…. because it was a Mercedes.  (I seem to have this knack of  seeing something wonderful, and it’s always really expensive.  And shiny)

Most girls I know gravitate towards shiny things. I think that’s why glitter is so popular on the back pockets of jeans (lord no!)  and there is glitter and sequins on everything. Bedazzlers weren’t made for men. And we lap it up and keep going for shiny.  Heck, just like barracudas, we will fight for our shine.  After holiday sales? Watch out.

There must be something hardwired into our brains about shiny is better. Why are glitter nail polishes so much more exciting than plain? I wonder this all the time as I spend way too much time trying to remove the glitter polish. That much work to remove something shouldn’t be better.  But it is. It sparkles.

We love anything shiny and I don’t know why. We are Chick Barracudas…..

And I still pick up shiny things.  I just don’t keep the washers, bolts, and screws, those go to Mr. B. …..

We are rounding out the third week of this 31 Days thing of mine. You still have time to enter the DaySpring Giveaway.  To enter to win a $500 DaySpring shopping spree, just click on this link & follow the giveaway widget instructions. Good luck, and thanks for reading!











Tiffany & Co. – Day No. 14

Since I was in my early teens, I have flitted between shades of teal through more bluish greens as a favorite color. There was even a brief flirtation with emerald green as it was my birth stone color. Gads, I don’t know what I was thinking there, but emerald green is not my color anymore. Thank goodness. But then a good few years ago I happened upon a Tiffany and Co. ad in a magazine and I knew. I knew right then and there that I had found my color.  Tiffany blue.  This is so my color that everyone who knows me remembers it and finds me things in that shade. The woman who owns the second-hand shop here saves pieces of pottery or other unique things in that shade. Mims and her mother gave me this gorgeous silk scarf with shades of the sea… and Tiffany’s blue within it. I have several things with that color. Still haven’t found a fountain pen ink that is quite right, and waterproof, but when I do, hoo boy, watch out! I’ll be scribbling everything with that ink.  As it is now, the Noodler’s 54th Massachusetts ink I just got is semi close when it’s watered down. Sort of. Still much more dark, but close.

The reason all my blogs and Twitter are covered in that teal blue color is because it’s close to Tiffany blue. I adore this color.  Look up Pinterest and Tiffany themed weddings and an explosion of blue comes out. I love it.

And because of this, I love Tiffany jewelry… Oh the rings and things.  All those gorgeous splashy stones.  I want a piece of Tiffany jewelry. Even if it’s something small. I just would love a necklace or bracelet stamped with their seal of approval.

And I wouldn’t mind a man getting down on one knee with a little blue box…. Ah yes, any girl who knows jewelry knows what comes in a little blue box. Trust me, I see a blue box on Tv or in a film and  I know where it’s coming from.

Breakfast at Tiffany's (film)

Breakfast at Tiffany’s (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

And because of all of this, I love Breakfast at Tiffany’s.  The name, the fact that Audrey Hepburn is in it, they go to Tiffany’s…… George Pepard….. Okay, George is just gorgeous, but he doesn’t fit with the whole scheme I’m talking about. Moving on.

I now collect Tiffany ads from magazines to make little origami wishing stars. I’m going to fill a jar one day with Tiffany blue stars and little silver stars and it will be all mind. Mine I say! I would love to have their Blue book, but I have yet to figure out where to get a copy of that. If anyone knows where to research that, let me know.

But Tiffany and Co. is my color, and my dream, and, and, and…..


Ebay Chic – Day No. 6

Frost Yourself

I love glittery things. Rings, earrings and things that glitter. As Matthew McConaughey says in How To Lose  A Guy In Ten Days…. “Frost yourself.”

I so want to frost myself with jewels. Cheap or expensive ones. I have no issues with faux stones. Fake pearls? Love ’em.  Lab diamonds? Totally.  Cubic zirconium? I love it!  Real stuff? Oh don’t get me started. It’s gorgeous.  Tiffanys? Oh lord let me pass out now. I would so love Tiffany’s Blue Book. I can’t seem to find a way to get a copy or download it or whatever. I so want to visit Tiffanys.  Ever since Breakfast at Tiffany’s…. Don’t get me started on jewelry stores.

There is this pawn shop down in LA that has high quality vintage jewelry, and things worn by celebrities, at supposedly decent prices. I’d so love to visit that! Moving on.

Recently Mr. B has indulged us girls with new rings. Glamourous, glittery rings. My first one was this huge, square-cut pink thing that reminds me of a piece of candy. In Emilie Lorning’s book ‘My Dearest Love’, the girl, when asked what kind of rings she likes, replies, “Big, splashy things.” I totally know what she means. I really like big, splashy rings, and now I have a nice selection. Okay, actually me, my sister, and Mrs. B all have a nice selection because we share the rings. Below you can see my sister graciously modeling all the rings for me. Which was rather funny since half the rings are huge on her fingers and spin around maniacally. She got very frustrated.

All because of Ebay Chic.  Ebay Chic, you ask? Mr. B and I coined the phrase after some of these rings came because they are classy looking rings made of sliver and cubic zirconium. OR Stainless steel and CZ. These are very pretty things, for very little cost. As in a dollar fifty. Yep, that splashy pink thing is only a buck fifty. But cheap sounds so , well, cheap.  So  it is better to say chic.  The rings are so chic that Mrs. B has a new wedding band and ring set. After she stopped wearing her original wedding ring due to a bad repair on the prongs, she has wanted something she could wear that wouldn’t get damaged in the water and dirt of farming life. Well, after debating through about 10 different ones, we found a set that looks stunning on her finger, for under $20.  Sure, it’s not her original diamond, but the ring is gorgeous.

If you hunt around Ebay, you can find some really gorgeous, inexpensive things.  Now, some of the rings we thought were solid sterling silver, have turned out to be silver plate, but at a buck fifty, it doesn’t really matter to me. The big splashy ring is loosing some of it’s silver and copper color is coming out, but it’s still so pretty. I don’t care too much.

Want a good place for the stainless and CZ rings?  NationalOnlineDiscounts.  All those rings above are from there. Whew! I think it might be ring overload! They have marvelous stuff.  And really, while diamonds and precious gems are nice, I don’t care if a ring is expensive. In fact, if I were to meet a man and  we were going to get married, I wouldn’t mind a lab diamond. Or even a CZ if the cost was an issue. I actually have a ring that is in one of these sets I want as a wedding ring….  I love the design so much and the stone looks gorgeous on my hand. But I figure while I can drop hints with a guy, I should probably let him have some of the say…

But anyways, don’t diss on my Ebay Chic!


Being Beautiful

Pearls, curled hair, yeah, this is my beautiful moment.

Pearls, curled hair, yeah, this is my beautiful moment.

I was sitting reading my journal from earlier in the year… it’s something I do to reflect…… and I came across an entry  from near my birthday. I was describing being called beautiful.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I have found that it is one word that while wonderful to be called, can hold a whole lot of meanings or feeling behind it.

I have been called beautiful by plenty of men…. despite which I still wonder if I really am beautiful because what I see in the mirror sometimes is meh.  How I look isn’t what makes me feel beautiful. Sometimes for me, wearing Stetson for men, a string of pearls and having my hair in a simple updo makes me feel so incredibly beautiful in my own mind, that’s all that matters.  But having a man call me beautiful is a rather interesting thing.

First there is Boris. Boris is fire and ice and extremes. He calls me beautiful, gorgeous and such regularly. It’s his greeting. It’s his way. His way makes me feel like I am the sexiest young woman ever. Okay, I’m not young anymore, but well, I still don’t feel like a woman. I am one….okay, I can go with lady better.  Considering he calls me young lady all the time too.  His beautiful is like stepping into pure heat and desire.  I can’t explain it.

Then there was Neeko.  Darling boy. I mentioned him earlier in the year.  What I wrote in my journal was, ” He calls me beautiful and it feels like pure sunshine happiness. Not sexy, but like I’ve stepped into a rainbow. Gooey inside. Unexpected. Undemanding. Nick is daisies and buttercups and sugar sweet.”  Maybe it was safety, but I felt like me with Neeko. I didn’t have to impress or be any more than me. Something I struggle with. I’m always worried about someone’s opinion, but with Neeko I could just be, like I had stepped into a meadow….. Bella’s meadow.

More recently there is someone that calls me various forms of beautiful, but it’s weird.  I can’t put my finger on it….okay, maybe I can. I am not interested in this guy, and he says he’s not in me, because he’s in his mid fifties, but sometimes I get this weird vibe that makes me kind of shudder. I sit there and think to myself…’no, please don’t call me anything endearing.’ It’s one of those disturbing moments in life where what someone says to you makes you feel so uncomfortable.

I think who we know that calls us beautiful means something different from each person. Sweet, sexy, disturbing…… And various other feelings.  Sometimes I smile and giggle insanely when I’m called beautiful. Other times I take it in stride.   I have to say that a sunshine and daisies beautiful is like eating the best brownie, and the fire and ice extremes beautiful is like that first sip of whiskey.  It’s sexy in it’s own way.  Sunshine and daisies, which I am not a person who would ever really go for that vibe, is really, really nice.  And it’s so hard to explain….. Okay, wait, I just read what I wrote. One is safe while the other has me in a constant state of alert.

Hmmm. Rather interesting, isn’t it? Do I know which one I want? I tend to go for sweet because at the end of the day, the safe is nice, steady. Comfortable. But that being said, the extreme and sexy is well, adventurous and exciting. I think a bit of sweet with sexy is really nice.

So what about you, ladies.  Do you have different vibes of beautiful?  What makes you feel beautiful?  Words or your own inner self?  Does something you do make you feel like the goddess you are?

I’d love to know so share with me.  I feel I should add in a One Direction line… but I’ll leave that up to you.



Right For Me – A Poem

472622366Back over my birthday and the week prior I met a darling boy/man, and I was still dealing with new feelings about Boris.  Recently my emotions have gotten the better of me as I watch The Bachelorette and drool over gorgeous men, at the same time dealing with Boris and possibly someone new in my life.  (Online dating can be a whirlwind in it’s own way)

I have had poetry and romance and kisses in my head to the point where I have this perpetual knot in my chest.  I can’t write it all down enough and I am getting stuck and lost in my mind more and more. Fortunately, I was able to capture some of what I’m struggling with in a piece of poetry.  I am titling it ‘Right For Me’ because I’m not sure what else to call it. I think my birthday….. no, pardon Neeko, was the catalyst to all of this.





Right For Me

I’m too old for you
Too young for him
Just right for me

I’m too close to there
Too far from here
I’m just in between

My words too long
The story too short
The plot just right

I’m looking back
I’m plowing forth
Just standing still

I like you a lot
I love him a little
I’m happy with me

I wish on you
I hope for him
I dream for me


Just a little something to express myself.




An Open Letter To James M. Sama

Dear James M. Sama,

I’m writing and open letter to you because I can’t send this in person. The irony is this letter is about writing letters. One thing I love about your posts is how you promote chivalry and the right attitude when it comes to dating and relationships.

In this day and age, making contact with prospective suitors is so incredibly easy what with emails, texting, Facebook, etc. Instant gratification is the norm and there is no waiting for a reply anymore. You don’t have to wait days of anticipation for a response. And I think it is that instant  response that has made it so men in particular, don’t have to work to court women. I think it’s our (women’s) own fault. We make it so easy, almost as if we were desperate, to be at the beck and call of a man. I’m not saying this as a cut on men; far from it. I love men and I am looking for a good man. A man who is willing to win my affection. And in the past, which includes up till the past  week, I have been willing to be at the beck and call of any man that shows interest.

What if instead of women giving out their email, we gave out our mailing address instead? Okay, yes, there are stalker guys/girls out there, so instead there is always a work address as well. What if instead of instant gratification of a text or email, you asked a guy to write you a letter and send it to you?

For anyone to send another person a letter, you have to sit down, take some time, and think while you write out a letter. Then you have to wait for a reply. It could be a two day wait if you live a couple hundred miles from each other. It’s still a wait within the city. And what is a day waiting for a real letter when sometimes it takes a person days to write a reply to an email? I am one of those people. I rarely jot off a reply email. Really, email only makes us think we are getting an instant response when in reality it can take as much time.

When my parents were dating, my father, who’s handwriting wasn’t very easy, painstakingly wrote my mother who was working as a nurse at a summer camp several hours away. My mother’s previous fiance wrote her while she was in Africa for a year. When my mom was going to college, a man she was with wrote her letters; poetry.  He never mailed them to her, since they were on the same campus, but he gave them to her.

I called my grandmother today and while my grandfather was in the military during the Korean war, and she was in college, they wrote each other every day. She mailed a letter every day, he sent them almost every day (come to find out, sometimes he would send three at once!)

Courtship was done by letters and rare phone calls.  There was the wait and anticipation and longing that comes from waiting for a letter.

I think we all could stand to slow down and take our time dating and getting to know each other. We need to stop promoting instant gratification, because it leads to having it in other areas of life. If a guy is willing to sit down and write you a letter, especially if you ask, tells you that he is willing to take the time to get to know you.

Now, I will conclude this letter/post by stating that I love email. Underscore love. But even I think I use it too much and need to get back to writing letters even more, and I’m someone that likes writing real letters. Since I have a Post Office box, I think I’m going to attempt to see if a guy will write me instead of email me in the future. It’s just an idea, and I thought you might like it.

All the best to you. I do enjoy your posts and I’m always pleasantly surprised, though I need to stop being that way.



Telling Fortunes

Published in the US - 1895, US Playing Card Co...

Published in the US – 1895, US Playing Card Company (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m not someone that believes in the occult, nor do I go for all that mystical thing or fortunes or tarot…. I am honestly a Christian.  But I am still fascinated by things like fortunes or tarot.  Just because. I can’t explain it. And even in the Bible, games/lots were thrown. It technically wasn’t biblical, and it doesn’t follow along with trusting God.

But again, it still interests me.

Someone in my life is frustrating the heck out of me and I just found out today I don’t rate as high in his life as he does in mine.  It’s rather depressing and I’ve been trying to mentally deal with that.  A few years ago I found this fun way of determining who you will end up with using playing cards.  Yes, I suppose it is rather ridiculous in the scope of things, but I decided to play with it today.

Here is the original link.  How to tell if he likes you, and other sleepover occult games

So, I just ran my cards, picking the main person, someone new and a possibility, someone who I don’t consider but like talking to, and then someone I can’t stand.

The results….. Um, I ended up with the one I wanted, and it was relatively decent in the scope of things.  I suppose if one believed in this, it would be hopeful…..

But I don’t believe in tarot………. Do I?