I think I have found a calling. It's a bit of a take off on "The Girlfriends Guide" series of books. "The Little Sister's Guide to Online Dating." After 20 years in marketing and public relations, I've learned a little along the way. In my short time in online dating, I have started a story budget for a self-help book for men in the world looking for love online.
Possible chapter titles/subjects...
"THAT'S the Photo You're Using? Seriously?" Some of these dear men are only missing the lines behind their heads and the little plaque with their arrest number on it. Definitely not wink-worthy.
"You Had Me At the Proper Use of Your/You're; To/Too; Their/They're/There" Too many of these grammar gaffes and I will dismiss you a hacker from Mumbai.
"Are Those Girls Really Your Daughters?" uhm...yeah.
Men in my age range (40-55) tend to fall into three categories: bikers, bullets, and babes.
There are a lot of bikers - real ones and wannabes. Tats, leather, do rags, black tees and jeans, bald with goatees. Harley riders and they are proud of their bikes. Some even post photos of bikes they WISH they had. There are also bikers who are actually cyclists and looking for their triathlon partner... "most recently, I biked up Pikes Peak in January, off road..."
Bullets. Photos of men holding up dead things they have hunted and killed. Favorite color? Camo. Or they have giant fish they have caught. I swear this is Modern Anthropology:101.
And babes... this subject goes with photos. I'm just not sure what a photo with a 50 year old man in the midst of a gaggle of Hooters Girls does for your sex appeal. These girls get PAID to have their photo taken with you, it's not necessarily because they find you attractive... sorry. This cross-references with the chapter title, "Are Those Girls Really Your Daughters?" Middle age men in photos with co-eds with the caption, "my daughters" is really rather jaw-dropping.
For the real men, the good men, there are photos in my age range of men with their families, photos with their adult children, and grandchildren, which is very sweet.
My dear late stepdad used to say that I was always trying to find the good in any situation, "Doone, you're the kid digging through a pile of horse manure on Christmas morning saying, "I know there's a pony under here somewhere!"
True... always looking for the half full glass, the silver lining, the bright side... and the truth is, there are good men putting themselves out there online. Scary old world it is, and having a friend and partner to face it with somehow makes the glass half full again. Yes, Virginia, there are good men out there who happen to be looking, too.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Saturday Renewal
Today's view of the porch is covered in powdered sugar. I'm spending my Saturday afternoon in my favorite way... baking in the kitchen listening to a basketball game on the radio. I'm baking for the church youth group bake sale tomorrow. The last two sheets of cutout sugar cookies are in the oven and I'm getting all the fun stuff together for Emily to decorate.
My niece Catherine has challenged me to be British and make a Victoria sponge cake for the bake sale. I am prepared to take this one on. I have a good cuppa and ready to start. It's a yellow cake, rich with four eggs. Between the two layers is whipped cream and jam. I'm using strawberry, per Catherine's suggestion. I rarely see her as she has always lived in the UK and I have always lived here. But things like this make me feel close to her. Love you, Rosie.
Earlier this morning, I volunteered at a solo band contest at our middle school. Every single student was amazing. Adolescents to teenagers, boys and young men, girls and young women, all stood nervously waiting their turn to play. From breathy flutes played by equally wispy girls to giant instruments that were as large as the students who played them. A lovely young woman playing a baritone saxophone - I swear it was bigger than she was. A new thing was a bass clarinet - a clarinet dressed up like a saxophone. Beautiful sound... Moms and dads all proud.
Good life lessons, these things are. The students who forgot their music. The students who stood waiting to play and wishing they had prepared a lot more than they had as they stood ready to play in front of an audience. It's good to be scared, one of the music teachers remarked. And it is. Life is that way. There are loads of experiences that scare the pee out of us as we grow and something like this is rather painless in the grand scheme of things.
It started feeling like spring this week. The sun is up earlier in the morning and later in the evening. It smells a bit like mud. The birds are singing more loudly at dawn. Renewal in the air. So, I'm trying new things. I made a new friend this past week. I'm trying my hand at a new cake recipe. I'm thinking about my garden. The house and my soul,are in need of spring cleaning. Time to go through the stuff that I don't need any more and pass it on to others.
Time to give this cake recipe a go ... why not challenge yourself this week to try something new?
My niece Catherine has challenged me to be British and make a Victoria sponge cake for the bake sale. I am prepared to take this one on. I have a good cuppa and ready to start. It's a yellow cake, rich with four eggs. Between the two layers is whipped cream and jam. I'm using strawberry, per Catherine's suggestion. I rarely see her as she has always lived in the UK and I have always lived here. But things like this make me feel close to her. Love you, Rosie.
Earlier this morning, I volunteered at a solo band contest at our middle school. Every single student was amazing. Adolescents to teenagers, boys and young men, girls and young women, all stood nervously waiting their turn to play. From breathy flutes played by equally wispy girls to giant instruments that were as large as the students who played them. A lovely young woman playing a baritone saxophone - I swear it was bigger than she was. A new thing was a bass clarinet - a clarinet dressed up like a saxophone. Beautiful sound... Moms and dads all proud.
Good life lessons, these things are. The students who forgot their music. The students who stood waiting to play and wishing they had prepared a lot more than they had as they stood ready to play in front of an audience. It's good to be scared, one of the music teachers remarked. And it is. Life is that way. There are loads of experiences that scare the pee out of us as we grow and something like this is rather painless in the grand scheme of things.
It started feeling like spring this week. The sun is up earlier in the morning and later in the evening. It smells a bit like mud. The birds are singing more loudly at dawn. Renewal in the air. So, I'm trying new things. I made a new friend this past week. I'm trying my hand at a new cake recipe. I'm thinking about my garden. The house and my soul,are in need of spring cleaning. Time to go through the stuff that I don't need any more and pass it on to others.
Time to give this cake recipe a go ... why not challenge yourself this week to try something new?
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The hiatus
Goodness. It's been awhile since I've checked in here...
Nothing especially exciting to keep me away. I can't say I've spent January in Provence or stashed away writing The Great American Novel. No, just everyday life and lots of it. I wouldn't have it any other way.
The view from the porch tonight is dark.
Ok, bad joke.
Somewhat snow-covered ... and dark. I've missed a good roaring snowstorm this winter. What little snow we've had, my dear neighbor men have done a quick and tidy job of removing it for me. They will each have home-baked chocolate chip cookies wrapped in cellophane bags and tied with a red ribbon from me on Tuesday. They all keep watch for me and mine.
Had a lot of time in the car this weekend. My children are conditioned to fall asleep for the first hour of any car trip. Lots of quiet time. It was a beautiful day to drive the two lane highways of southwest Iowa, weaving my way to the interstate. There's more snow there as they had a rip-roaring good storm last weekend. Today the sky was crystal blue and the snow was so white and clean, it was blinding. Just lovely. Peaceful.
I'm totally enthralled with my children these days and the ride that we are all on together. The weekend has been so good. We are back home and tired from our whirlwind trip to Omaha and Red Oak, but strangely rested and restored with homemade chocolate cake and lasagna.
Life is good.
Nothing especially exciting to keep me away. I can't say I've spent January in Provence or stashed away writing The Great American Novel. No, just everyday life and lots of it. I wouldn't have it any other way.
The view from the porch tonight is dark.
Ok, bad joke.
Somewhat snow-covered ... and dark. I've missed a good roaring snowstorm this winter. What little snow we've had, my dear neighbor men have done a quick and tidy job of removing it for me. They will each have home-baked chocolate chip cookies wrapped in cellophane bags and tied with a red ribbon from me on Tuesday. They all keep watch for me and mine.
Had a lot of time in the car this weekend. My children are conditioned to fall asleep for the first hour of any car trip. Lots of quiet time. It was a beautiful day to drive the two lane highways of southwest Iowa, weaving my way to the interstate. There's more snow there as they had a rip-roaring good storm last weekend. Today the sky was crystal blue and the snow was so white and clean, it was blinding. Just lovely. Peaceful.
I'm totally enthralled with my children these days and the ride that we are all on together. The weekend has been so good. We are back home and tired from our whirlwind trip to Omaha and Red Oak, but strangely rested and restored with homemade chocolate cake and lasagna.
Life is good.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Old Nameless Motorcycle Philosopher
Today's post is a guest blog. Although the writer doesn't KNOW that he's filling in today. Its just that I could not say anything better on Christmas Eve than this Christmas card greeting.
Is there anything cuter than a two-year-child? On the cover is our little 2-year-old granddaughter, Ella Mae. (Tom & Molly's little girl)
We are showing her because two-year-olds are just so darned cute. The other grandchildren are beautiful, high-achieving, well-mannered young people - and we love them dearly. But... they aren't two years old! (Although they were at one time.)
Accompanying this blue-eyed little darling is our new 6-month old kitty, named "Noodle." Patty calls him a "middle school" cat. (I wonder where she picked up that phrase?) He is called Noodle because at any given time he can become limp - as a noodle. He's playful - at times he's mischievous...but he's always loving. There are few things as relaxing as sitting back in your recliner, a fire in the fireplace, and a sleeping kitty purring on your lap.
Dr. Knutson had to put down our old 20 pound Josie because of a brain tumor. We found ourselves at the animal shelter a few days later and came home with Noodle.
I said to Patty on the way home, "Our old cat has just been gone just a few days and you already have a new cat." Jokingly I added, "If something happened to me, I bet you would take up with a new man right away!"
Patty casually replied, "Would people think it tacky if I brought him to the funeral?"
BAM! What a comeback! I wouldn't have it any other way. It's a wonderful life with a wonderful wife. We are blessed with a lovely family, good friends, few worries, and lots of love and laughter.
As an old nameless motorcycle philosopher once said, "Don't let a few bugs hitting your windshield spoil an otherwise wonderful ride." Take time to savor each and every precious moment on this big, beautiful blue marble in space. Try not to let the little stuff get you down.
The Old Nameless Motorcycle Philosopher just happens to be my Dad.
Is there anything cuter than a two-year-child? On the cover is our little 2-year-old granddaughter, Ella Mae. (Tom & Molly's little girl)
We are showing her because two-year-olds are just so darned cute. The other grandchildren are beautiful, high-achieving, well-mannered young people - and we love them dearly. But... they aren't two years old! (Although they were at one time.)
Accompanying this blue-eyed little darling is our new 6-month old kitty, named "Noodle." Patty calls him a "middle school" cat. (I wonder where she picked up that phrase?) He is called Noodle because at any given time he can become limp - as a noodle. He's playful - at times he's mischievous...but he's always loving. There are few things as relaxing as sitting back in your recliner, a fire in the fireplace, and a sleeping kitty purring on your lap.
Dr. Knutson had to put down our old 20 pound Josie because of a brain tumor. We found ourselves at the animal shelter a few days later and came home with Noodle.
I said to Patty on the way home, "Our old cat has just been gone just a few days and you already have a new cat." Jokingly I added, "If something happened to me, I bet you would take up with a new man right away!"
Patty casually replied, "Would people think it tacky if I brought him to the funeral?"
BAM! What a comeback! I wouldn't have it any other way. It's a wonderful life with a wonderful wife. We are blessed with a lovely family, good friends, few worries, and lots of love and laughter.
As an old nameless motorcycle philosopher once said, "Don't let a few bugs hitting your windshield spoil an otherwise wonderful ride." Take time to savor each and every precious moment on this big, beautiful blue marble in space. Try not to let the little stuff get you down.
The Old Nameless Motorcycle Philosopher just happens to be my Dad.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
A Cold Evening Walk
Tonight's view from the porch is a clear, starlit night. After dinner, I decided to take a walk. It wasn't too cold tonight, but I did walk briskly. It isn't often that it is not bitterly cold or too icy to walk around in the evening and enjoy the lights. Homes were glowing with Christmas lights inside and out. My walk takes me to the edge of town and I think Mother Nature's twinkling stars were as beautiful as any display I passed. It was quiet and I was ready for quiet after a very productive day of housework and holiday-work.
The week did not end the way I expected and some alone time for reflection was in order.
Since August, I've been helping to coordinate an evening meal for friends whose baby girl was in the NICU in Iowa City. She passed away earlier this week and I was honored to attend services for her yesterday. There's just no easy way through that. The pastor was amazing and said so many beautiful things when I wondered what one could say that would make any sense at all. I have never cried so deeply for someone I had never met.
One of the things that the pastor said was that this tiny little girl changed all our lives. And that is true. I will never again take for granted the power of a hot homemade meal delivered home in time for dinner. And it really wasn't just about sharing dinner, it was about giving a family a gift of time. Even in my own family's schedule, there are nights when its a challenge at the end of the day to come up with a meal. For our friends, bringing dinner a few nights a week gave them time to be together rather than grocery shopping and cooking.
I hugged my kids a little tighter last night, held them a little closer.
And I prayed for peace, and comfort, and healing.
The week did not end the way I expected and some alone time for reflection was in order.
Since August, I've been helping to coordinate an evening meal for friends whose baby girl was in the NICU in Iowa City. She passed away earlier this week and I was honored to attend services for her yesterday. There's just no easy way through that. The pastor was amazing and said so many beautiful things when I wondered what one could say that would make any sense at all. I have never cried so deeply for someone I had never met.
One of the things that the pastor said was that this tiny little girl changed all our lives. And that is true. I will never again take for granted the power of a hot homemade meal delivered home in time for dinner. And it really wasn't just about sharing dinner, it was about giving a family a gift of time. Even in my own family's schedule, there are nights when its a challenge at the end of the day to come up with a meal. For our friends, bringing dinner a few nights a week gave them time to be together rather than grocery shopping and cooking.
I hugged my kids a little tighter last night, held them a little closer.
And I prayed for peace, and comfort, and healing.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Remembering
Today's view from the porch is a sky that looks like a gray wool blanket. No snow in those clouds here, but plenty of rain. Two words that do not go well together in Iowa are 'December' and 'rain.' It is a day to be grateful for a warm house and a pantry stocked for holiday baking.
A hot cup of coffee, Windham Hill's "Celtic Christmas," and a stack of recipe cards are presenting a day in touch with dear memories. Grandma Pearl's old aluminum measuring spoons, cookie press, and cutters at the ready. Recipes from Eugenia Johnson - my children's paternal great-grandmother who immigrated to the US from Sweden in the 1920's. Marian Sellergren's spritz recipe. Grandma's sugar cookie cutouts, with a hint of nutmeg... The house will smell wonderful very soon.
This week has been a bit of a challenge. Emily is recovering well from her long illness and is much improved over last week at this time and I am relieved that she is back on track. Last night, we played "Let's Dance" on the wii and Emily was dancing away, hair flying, arms in the air... She's a dancer that girl. It doesn't matter the music, if it moves her spirit, it will move her body. It was wonderful to watch her so uninhibited and with the energy to dance. It's been weeks since she's had the energy to get out of bed, let alone dance. It made me very happy to dance with her and to soak in her excitement.
This week, friends and acquaintances have struggled with death and loss. For some it has just happened, others are having their first birthdays or holidays without a parent. Broken hearts, whether recent or many years ago, seem to be laid wide open in December. A time filled with remembering, with doing things the way they have been done for years. The familiar music, ornaments for the tree, and simple things like cookie recipes put us in touch with those memories and the flood of emotions they bring.
December can be a melancholy time for many of us. We may find ourselves swinging between the joy of the season and reflective of Decembers gone by. In the midst of it all, recognize that it is not only normal to experience sadness and loss right now, it really is best to feel those emotions and not fight them. Honor them. Open up to feel it all, both sorrow and delight. For without allowing yourself to feel the sadness, you really will not feel the full impact of joy.
Time to warm up the oven, the house, and my heart with the simple acts of making bread and cookies. After the bites, licks, and tastes, I'll be ready to dance with my daughter again.
A hot cup of coffee, Windham Hill's "Celtic Christmas," and a stack of recipe cards are presenting a day in touch with dear memories. Grandma Pearl's old aluminum measuring spoons, cookie press, and cutters at the ready. Recipes from Eugenia Johnson - my children's paternal great-grandmother who immigrated to the US from Sweden in the 1920's. Marian Sellergren's spritz recipe. Grandma's sugar cookie cutouts, with a hint of nutmeg... The house will smell wonderful very soon.
This week has been a bit of a challenge. Emily is recovering well from her long illness and is much improved over last week at this time and I am relieved that she is back on track. Last night, we played "Let's Dance" on the wii and Emily was dancing away, hair flying, arms in the air... She's a dancer that girl. It doesn't matter the music, if it moves her spirit, it will move her body. It was wonderful to watch her so uninhibited and with the energy to dance. It's been weeks since she's had the energy to get out of bed, let alone dance. It made me very happy to dance with her and to soak in her excitement.
This week, friends and acquaintances have struggled with death and loss. For some it has just happened, others are having their first birthdays or holidays without a parent. Broken hearts, whether recent or many years ago, seem to be laid wide open in December. A time filled with remembering, with doing things the way they have been done for years. The familiar music, ornaments for the tree, and simple things like cookie recipes put us in touch with those memories and the flood of emotions they bring.
December can be a melancholy time for many of us. We may find ourselves swinging between the joy of the season and reflective of Decembers gone by. In the midst of it all, recognize that it is not only normal to experience sadness and loss right now, it really is best to feel those emotions and not fight them. Honor them. Open up to feel it all, both sorrow and delight. For without allowing yourself to feel the sadness, you really will not feel the full impact of joy.
Time to warm up the oven, the house, and my heart with the simple acts of making bread and cookies. After the bites, licks, and tastes, I'll be ready to dance with my daughter again.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Thanksgiving in Quarantine
John Lennon wrote lyrics to this effect, "Life happens when you are busy making other plans..." The unwelcome virus visitor postponed our weekend plans to host our welcome visitors, the grandparents from the Great White North. But we managed to make the best of it anyway. While Emily slept, John and I did our own turkey trot for a couple of miles on an unusually mild Thanksgiving Day in Iowa. And never in 47 years have I ever sat down to a Thanksgiving dinner just for two. It was wonderfully unique, relaxed and a mix of nice table with a measuring cup for a gravy boat because I couldn't find a real one as easily. "When I was his age..." that would not have happened AT ALL. Nor would we have taken 50 minutes to sculpt Kinnick Stadium out of mashed potatoes. Nor would a Beatles greatest hits cd be the background music or us in jeans and t-shirts...
"Thanks for all you did to make it a fun holiday, Mom," said my 13 year old at the end of the night.
Sweeter than pecan pie.
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