bogwitch64: (Default)
My husband just came home with a rolled up poster. He said, "I had (IT guy) make up a poster for me. Tell me what you think."

I unrolled it to find my acceptance letter from Hadley Rille Books, poster-sized in all its glory.

He's something else, my Frankie. I think I'll keep him.
bogwitch64: (Default)
I threw a surprise birthday party for my husband last night. It masqueraded as my anual 'holiday' dinner. The menu:
Apps:
Wild mushroom and havarti cheese pizza
shrimp cocktail
Main course:
Roasted pork flank stuffed with spinach, garlic, roasted pine nuts and asiago cheese and topped with a port wine/dijon reduction.
Roasted root vegetables (carrots, fennel, onion, parsnips, turnips--and garlic, of course!)
Roasted yukon gold potatoes with parsley and olive oil
Dessert:
Cream cheese tarts (lemon, cherry or strawberry)
Chocolate and peanut butter chip cookies
lemon squares

The food was divine. The company was awesome. My husband was so surprised he nearly cried. I don't think he's had more than two birthday parties in his life, and I threw both of them for him. Our friends gave him theater tickets, so I win too! Woohoo!!!

We have been friends with these people for 16 years. Before them, Frank and I didn't really have other 'couple' friends. We all moved into the same neighborhood at the same time, with kids around the same ages. It was a huge family. We used to tease that it was a commune. Some friends have fallen out of the group, but these eight (ten of us all together) are keepers.
bogwitch64: (Default)

My poor hubs has a cold. It's the same cold I had last week. He moans. He groans. He hangs his head and looks bleary-eyed. But he is a trooper and still went out for dinner with me on our usual Saturday night date. At dinner, he says, "I'm sorry if I'm being a bummer. I really wanted to have some time with you tonight, but I feel..." and then went down the list of his ills. For the hundred and fifteeth time today. And I sympathized. For the hundred and fifteeth time today. And then:

Says I, "Yeah, you have what I had last week. It's not fun."
Says hubs, "You were sick last week?"
Says I, "Yes." And then I grin. "Exactly."

He's lucky he's so cute.


Two things

Oct. 12th, 2009 09:23 am
bogwitch64: (Default)
A question: Aside from the obvious, what is it with writers making books such an integral part of the storyline? I would wager to say a full 3/4 of the books I've read feature books, characters who are obsessed with books, magical books, evil books and a whole crapton of others. At the very least, one of the characters is an avid reader.

What I am wondering is, is it me? Because if the world were this obsessed with books there would be far fewer rejection letters going out! Are these the kinds of books I choose without realizing it? Or do you find the same thing?

A story: My honey and I were watching Saturday Night Live the other night. Are you familiar with Kristen Wiig's character, Gilly? The awkward, diabolical girl with the black fro and an overbite? "Sorry," is her catchphrase.

So a few minutes after her bit this week, my husband's nodding off when suddenly he picks his head up and says, "Did we ever get her a birthday present?"

"What? Who were we supposed to buy a present for?"

"That girl. The one with the frizzy black hair. Did we get her anything?"

While I stared at him trying to decide whether to laugh or shake my head in astonishment, he fell back to sleep. I thought that was pretty funny.
bogwitch64: (Default)
Well, Frankie's home. He's not totally recovered yet, but well enough to be in his own house with his family. It's been a harrowing few days; not that he was in any terrible danger. No. The harrowing part was keeping my husband in a bed for five days. That is the worst torture anyone can inflict upon him. He's home and already heading outside to mow the lawn. Yesterday he was on IV fluids, morphine and IV antibiotics; today he's mowing the lawn. Later, he wants to go to Costco. I have to be honest--these are the things that will help him heal. Laying in a bed? Not so much. This is just how he is. Holding him down is as bad as overdoing it, so his Devoted Guardian of Love will watch over him, as always.

Tough as he is, he's NEEDY!!! I sat in that hospital room watching him sleep so many hours of every day while I got no writing done, nothing done in the house, while the kids were left on their own, while the cats ran amuck. And then he'd tell me, "Go home. Get some writing done. It's ok." With which he'd follow, "I just need you." Yesterday, he called me in a panic because he couldn't get the nurses to come. When I got there, he was entertaining two of them, all smiles. The man can do anything. He can build a house with rocks and mud. He could seriously win Survivor. His strength of will alone has seen him through more adversity than most people will ever experience. But he needs me to hold his hand while he sleeps.

Now THAT is power. Mwhahahahahaaa! What? Were you expecting something sentimental? No way! He'll be home for the next two solid weeks before we go down to Myrtle Beach. I may kill him before then. Maybe not.

Tough as he is, I think it's a well-known fact that I'm tougher when it comes to such things. I'm not saying what he experienced wasn't painful, but the stoic under such circumstances, he is not. He moans and groans and whines and complains. I nearly bled to death several times a month ago, yet still no one knows how terrible I felt, how close I came to being in real trouble. No one knows when I'm sick. Everyone in the house, work and for several towns surrounding know when Frank has a cold. I suppose that makes him the smart one! He got help right away. I ended up having a transfusion. But this is what makes us a good team. I'm the calm. He's the storm. He knows it. I know it. It's an understanding here in the house. If you need your tire changed at four in the morning, call Dad. If you need someone to hold the world at bay while you gain your bearings, call Mom.

It works. Thank goodness he's as good at looking out for me as I am looking out for him. :)
bogwitch64: (Default)
Today, while riding home in the car, my husband came up with this gem, upon seeing a pizza box in the road:

"If there is one eyesore to humankind, it's the pizza box."

He really hates pizza boxes.
bogwitch64: (Scott)
Last night, Scott called Frank and me his 'rents. I've heard the term before, but Frank hadn't. He loved it for some reason. Thought it was great. So today, Frank was talking to Scott and in the process referred to him as 'dents.'

Scott: Dense? Dad, that doesn't even make sense.
Frank: Not dense, 'dents. Like when you called us 'rents last night. 'Dents, as in depenDENTS.

I thought that was pretty funny. Frank was very pleased with himself. I don't know what Scott thought but he laughed. I hope it was in a good way. ;)

20 years

Nov. 26th, 2008 05:17 pm
bogwitch64: (Default)
Wow--am I old enough for ANYTHING to have been 20 years ago? I suppose so. Doesn't feel like it though. But here it is--twenty years ago today I married for the second time. I was 24 with a 5 year old and a 2 year old. He was 38 with a 16 year old. Our little families got pretty big overnight. A year and a half later, we had a son. The following year, a daughter. We've raised five kids, six cats and a dog over the last 20 years. We've also built two of the three houses we've lived in. I can't believe how much we packed into the years. It's been pretty all around grand.

Happy Anniversary, Frankie-baby. You owe me at least another thirty. You promised.

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