Never Say Never

(Written Permission Pending)

Never say never or always. But still, never... camping and sleeping under the stars. It is something we have tried twice. Smelly outhouses with buzzing flies, a rustling raccoon slowly plodding just 2 feet from our heads as we reclined in our tent, mosquitoes, and an all-night downpour taught us a thing or two. Camping is a dirty, buggy, non-sleep activity. We like our sleep.

We did do it! Note the sleep tent
A raccoon walked within 2 feet of our heads

For the adventurous, resilient, and young-at-heart, whose bodies still have enough padding to sleep on cement-like ground, go for it! There will be mishaps... consider them bonding times. The aroma of a roasting turkey, card-playing with forever friends, and experiencing dusk and sunrise in the great outdoors are three camp kudos we will not forget. 

If there is a next time, we will make sure to be as close as possible to the camp site, sleeping in a hotel room, thank you. And because of Huggy's openness to still observing the stars together, in a variety of different ways on clear nights, (other than reclining and camping): i love you. 

Decluttering

(Written Permission Pending)

The Netflix show Tidying Up, with Marie Kondo, is all the rage. Her motto is: Keep things that bring you joy, and store items respectfully. If an item does not bring joy, say thank you, and then donate. 

!! Still too many sweaters !!
Kondo's tidy rule = order... it is working

For example, if a shirt is never worn, say: Thank you for teaching me what I don't like, and be specific (the shape, fit, color, etc.) 

Talking to clothing is a bit mystical, but the idea that a clothing item's purchase was not a total waste of money helps to let go. That shirt taught some sort of lesson.

Donations at Goodwill have significantly increased since the series' airing. America is decluttering and tidying up. This blogger's weakness leans toward owning too many clothing items. The more, the merrier, or so I thought. More wardrobe = more time spent each morning agonizing over an outfit decision. It is wasted time that could be spent fulfilling resolution #2. 

New Year's Resolutions

Important and most important. My 2019 New Year's Resolutions are written on two dominoes, offered to everyone at our church during the spot-on sermon series, Habits. 

Goodwill is thrilled about the declutter mindset, and so is Huggy. Decluttering works when I cull my things; when he feels motivated, he culls his items. Feeling a little less frustrated on my side of the clothes closet gives peace of mind and time for important things. Decluttering with the right mindset = i love you.

Frrrt

(Written Permission Pending)

It is healthy for married couples to have at least one secret they share, only with each. Good, bad, happy, sad. The secret could be smelly. It is something they would not intentionally share with their family, friends, pastor, hairdresser, dentist, or co-workers. But with each other, the secret is safe.

That secret creates a trust bond. A them-and-us, unique relational difference. It could be about their children, parents, a health issue, their past, or a TV show they watch together. 

Mouth-cuffed

What is our little secret? My lips are sealed, zipped, and mouth is cuffed; I dare not tell a soul. Nada. No one. 

See You Later, Alligator

Written Permission Received
Happiness Is... 500 Ways to show i love you
Lisa Swering & Ralph Lazar
Chronicle Books

An attractive woman randomly walks into my office. I will call her Elizabeth. Despite wearing little make-up or bling, she has a natural together look about her. I need to rent my house. Do you know of any couples needing a place? 

Elizabeth begins to share her woeful story: 61 years old, 2 grown children, married 40 years, husband recently left her for another woman. Not only did he leave her, over a span of time he methodically took her name off their shared holdings like bank accounts, retirement nest eggs, and some of their possessions. He even stopped making her car insurance payments. So, unbeknownst to her, she drove 2 months without it. She is left close to penniless except for having an expensive house to live in and pay for and similarly with her car. 

Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
 when I'm 64?
(The Beatles)

At times, Elizabeth compulsively eats, and has gained 15 pounds. She keeps her nice 4-bedroom house set at 60 degrees to afford the heating bill, and her adult son advised her to move states away, to live near him. She wants to hold onto to the house, so renters are needed. And she needs to hire someone for odd jobs, like typing but she has no computer to provide and delivering legal documents.

After walking her to the Student Success Office, I couldn't help but feel enraged with one individual's sneaky ways, as well as sadness for a vulnerable woman and her family. She prays for her husband, but naturally the thought of seeing him again makes her arm hairs stand on end.

My age is close to Elizabeth's. Years with Huggy? 42. Even though it sounds corny, it is still an honor to know I am going to... "see you later, alligator" soon, after your missions tripping. And Huggy will still need me and feed me when I'm (soon) 64. And even better yet, beyond a shadow of doubt, no doubt about it, bet your bottom-dollar, our feelings are mutual:
i love you.

Reading, Riting, & Rithmetic

(Written Permission Pending)

According to an article in the Scientific American, researchers at the New School in New York City “found evidence that literary fiction improves a reader’s capacity to understand what others are thinking and feeling.” The article further argues that literary fiction can “support and teach us values about social behavior, such as the importance of understanding those who are different from ourselves.”

Sharing a book of any type (fiction or non-fiction) is a way to learn more about people and each other. One couple I know of rides to work together, and during the commute, the wife reads a book out loud, for both to enjoy. 

During my solo commutes to work, I "read" through The Bible using the YouVersion app on my cell phone. I am up to The Book of Judges, which contains some intriguing people and happenings.

Leading up to Valentine's Day, a coffee table book that we share, laugh, discuss, and see how many of the 500 illustrations we can identify with (or react to in a blog) is: Happiness is... 500 Ways to Show i Love You.

HAPPINESS IS NOT: The Tickle

12 Interesting Facts About the Tickle:

1.     Tickling helps us bond

2.     Tickling is your body's alarm system (bugs on arms, etc.)

3.     You can't tickle yourself

4.     Tickle spots are universal

5.     Tickling can be torturous (fun fact?)

6.     Tickling equals flirting

7.     You get tickled less as you age (?)

8.     You can block a tickle advance (it's a hand-thing)

9.     Tickling can slim (who knew?)

10. Tickle Me Elmo rocked for a reason (the response-thing is fun)

11. That ticklish feeling can be fickle

12. Men like being tickled more (hmmm, there's one man who hates to be tickled)

Healthy Living

The Healthy Living article also states: During the 16th century, a Protestant sect would tickle transgressors to death (sounds Godfather-like!)

If asked secrets to a happy marriage and a Happy Valentines Day, our top three answers include:

1.     Honest and if necessary vulnerable communication

2.     Separate toilets

3.     A comfortable couch

4.     Because i love you, tickling... infrequently. 

The Blame-Game & !!IT's.RAINING!!

(Written Permission Pending)

Huggy and I were unexpectedly caught, half-way through one of our regular walks, in a sudden downpour. Bolts of lightning traveled horizontally across the dark sky above us, and some of them felt too close for comfort. We need to get to the lake's boat house. I'm scared and don't feel safe walking with lightning so close!!

We sprint to the boat house for shelter to stay just briefly, until the lightning lessens. We are cold, and frustrated, not looking forward to our 30-minute walk back to the car. It is prime opportunity to begin the blame-game for our predicament: It's your fault we're caught in this thunderstorm. I told you it was going to rain! Good thing I brought an umbrella, just in case.

Rather than finding blame (why is it that petulance feels so...satisfying)? it is apparent the downpour isn't going to let up soon, so we decide to make the best of it. It is scary at first (because of sporadic lightning) and our teeth are chattering from the cold, but crazy Huggy says, Let's go for it! so I hesitantly cooperate.

We continue our walk, that spontaneously morphs into a positive, Singing-in-the-Rain experience. For 30 minutes, arm-in-arm we hold each other as close as possible under a small umbrella’s meager protection. The in-sync rhythm of our steps is exhilarating, because for some reason it feels akin to dancing together; an activity I love, but never happens. An activity I would have missed had I been too afraid, or entered into the dark dungeon of, the blame-game.

We attempt to keep each other warm and relatively dry, and it is a FREE diversion from ordinary. Listening to pelts of rain hitting the shared umbrella, who cares about soaked feet? it's only water, and shoes and feet will dry!! Just make sure the camera stays protected. One of us, who suffers with hyper-vigilance, just happened to bring along a baggie for the camera. Just sayin'...

We were on a mission, two dare-devils walking to our safe and dry destination. At opportune times I couldn't help but, Debbie Reynolds-like, skip and sing in the rain! 

This 30-minute "dance," a mere speck on the timeline that represents our marriage, happened in 2013. I blogged about it back then, and this edited re-run again forever splashes through the blogosphere. A shared mission, nil blaming, and writing about it to reminisce and not forget are treasured ways to express "happiness is" this Valentines Day, and: i love you.

"Janet"

(Written Permission Pending)

Given the choice between other foods or chocolate, guess which wins. Over the course of 3 sabbatical-from-work years, I ate so much chocolate my body finally yelled "Stop!" but I kept on eating it; just less. 

Because chocolate is my addiction, I so wanted myself portrayed in this illustration, but for the wheelchair. "Janet" is the person who comes to mind. She is a giver and the most resilient person I know. She bounces back, no matter what. Janet is wife, proud mom of two grown and married children, grandma to 5 adorbs, volunteer at Safe-to-Sleep, Sunday school helper, animal-owner and lover, crafter, avid reader, friend to many, chocolate-lover, and 50+-year thriver.

At age 15, Janet survived a head-on car crash, hit by a drunk driver. She and her aunt were the only survivors of the car crash. Janet was left motherless, her cousin died, and Janet's legs were damaged. She is a paraplegic, and her wheelchair is her trusted friend.

Following that tragedy over 50 years ago, Janet could still be more than angry. But her grieving Daddy and other relatives stepped in. Their love and support helped her through the challenge of a lifetime. In my mind and others, Janet stands taller than any person we know. 

This could be fun-loving Janet & Hubby
But it isn't

Janet is loving. She and her one-and-only husband celebrate over 40 years of marriage together. They fight through daily and hourly physical and financial challenges (unfortunately, there were no accident lawyers nor lifetime settlements way-back-when), and they deeply care for each other. 

Janet would give hubby (or anyone) her last piece of chocolate, and hubby would do likewise. Is it any wonder her daughter is now a missionary overseas and her nearby son is the best-daddy-ever?

Janet models living and giving. She and her husband exemplify every angle and aspect of: The i Love You Project. 

Dancing Star

(Written Permission Pending)

This post is All.About.Me. I love to dance. Play an upbeat song on the radio, and I can't help myself. One foot, or my entire body moves with the beat. Solo road trips are much more entertaining dancing with the songs (seated, with hands mostly on the steering wheel).

I have not wanted to take dance lessons. To watch someone else and then mimic them is impossible. It is called a TOTAL disability (Too Old To Act Light-footed). And Huggy won't join me because he claims he has no sense of beat whatsoever. I think he hides it.

Since no practical way to earn money dancing is possible, there is no value learning the skill. None. Nil. Nada. So, Dancing With The Stars will have to do. And because this dancer needs an audience, Huggy is nice enough to stop whatever he is doing and patiently watch my commercial-break fleckerls in his home office, attempting to mimic steps of a waltz or another dance. 

Dance & twirl, sweet girl. It's in the blood

This blogger needs a reader, too. It's Huggy.
i love you, my audience-of-one and cheerleader.

Whistle While We Work

Written Permission Pending

Some arrive to the point in life where things go fairly smoothly. Job situations are decent or appropriately challenging; our kids are busy with their lives; the doctor gives us good health numbers. Smoooooth, like generously buttered bread. 

Then quick as a wink, life can change. Walking the dog, we slip on marble-like acorns; or, rushing into Walmart, a breaking misstep occurs; or, we dare to skate at a middle-schooler’s dream ice skating birthday party… splat and crunch… a break of the hip and/or wrist. 

We take our bodies for granted, and a cast on an arm or leg emphasizes the marvelous that we overlook. Vacuuming appears to require one hand, but a wrist break helps us realize otherwise. Then, the aha moment occurs. Two (or more) bodies are better than one. Hiring a maid or cooperatively sharing chores seems as brilliant as the discovery of the light bulb. Even if we are full-bodied healthy, the number of people who dirty a house ideally should be close to the number of family members who cooperatively clean it. “Carry one another’s burdens” (The Bible, Galatians 6:2). 

The fall occurred in our home,
the next month, not on this ice

Cancer and chemo a decade ago failed to compel me to split house chores, but when dominant “Righty” broke 11 months ago, push came to shove. This bull-headed non-delegator... let the dust-bunnies fly 'til I can vacuum, because only I will do it right... finally learned. It is actually shocking!! sharing chores can bring us closer, and house cleaning is twice as fast. But one critical rule is a must: Refrain from nagging and nit-picking.

Disclaimer: We did experience a comical cleaning mini-crisis. Who would guess that a mechanical malfunction and our inquiring visit to the central vac store would provide valuable and embarrassing insight: Push the plug in properly, and the vacuum will run. Lesson learned. Yanking apart the brush head was overkill, with no need to purchase a pricey new one. 

Like a boomerang's flight, that returns after it is skillfully thrown, it's a circular exercise. I realize how wonderful Huggy is when I permit him to freely demonstrate his cleaning wonders: i love you.

HAPPINESS IS: Soul Models

Soul models = Role models

Pride & Prejudice "junkies" immediately know who Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy are. Thousands of junkies not only watch the movie over and over, they enjoy the lengthy A&E Colin Firth version. It contains 36 video chapters, for who cares how many binge-watch hours... and it is the best. The more the better. 

The fictional love story, set in 19th Century England, is a must-read, as well. Written words explain Lizzie's thoughts as she experiences an embarrassing moment with Mr. Darcy; and readers clearly understand why Middle Sister's ideas are quirky, and quite annoying, too. 

And the annotated book version of Pride & Prejudice also perfectly follows A&E's movie. A browse prior to the movie-watch explores the social norms back in the P&P setting, explaining awkward cousin's inappropriate approach to wealthy Mr. Darcy, at Mr. Bingley's party. Book-reads make a heart-loving binge-watch immeasurably rewarding. 

The manner in which the Mr. Darcy / Lizzie relationship evolves and deepens, slowly and cautiously, reveals genuine, tried-and-true, character. Mr. Darcy's high standards tend to initially come across as prejudice; yet, his past and present actions eventually demonstrate steady, loyal, kind, and generous traits. And, watchers and readers slowly learn, integrity is the air that Darcy breathes. Integrity isn't, but should be, his middle name. Sappy, but these days we need sappy.

Research into anti-Darcy (Mr. Whitcomb) reeks of a sordid past. Whitcomb covers past ill-deeds with lie upon lie. He almost fools Lizzie, but she finally learns he is a sham, with lawless acts that continue. 

Lizzie oozes of strength, that initially reveals itself as pride; she does not need a man to feel valued! Yet, of course she would more than welcome marriage... if pride doesn't keep her from building a wall so impenetrable that she can't recognize Mr. Right. It is a predictable story line, but Hallmark Channel romance movies are also predictable.

I raise a post, to integrity, proven through years of actions quietly displayed; and also, to all of the complicated yet compelling Mr. Darcy / Lizzie relationships in the world. May Lizzie see rightness, and may Mr. Darcy persist. Because it is worthwhile to believe for plenty more 😉mitt room barney😉 ...so truth will prevail. 

And, to feel safe enough to share with each other the most vulnerable phrase on earth: i love you.

Ice heart, no chiseling needed, in its original form!

So glad I met and married my "Darcy." i love you... MORE. 

"Blankie"

(Written Permission Pending)

Who has never accidentally fallen asleep watching TV? or been lying in bed, chilled but too tired to get up to find an extra blanket? Maybe it was after work. Or maybe you were sick. Or maybe watching something like the Superbowl together you doze off after a long, hard day. Then, someone special, either your mom, spouse, roommate, your teenager, or the point is someone noticed you resting there in need something. It is like Mom's warm and sustaining chicken noodle soup. They showed empathy, and you were not invisible.

Someone decided you looked cold, and their act changed a blanket's identity to: "Blankie." Gently pulled up and over your shoulders (maybe that someone took even more time to find an extra layer) even as an adult Blankie represents security... 

Blankie also represents warmth, comfort, attention... Sniff... for various reasons that idea brings touched tears to my eyes.

That act, pure and simple (especially when one-and-only performs the Blankie act, which Huggy has done many times) shouts quietly (because it's not nice to awaken someone in need of sleep): i love you.

HAPPINESS IS: Reality TV

Survivor, BB, Hearings, etc. Take your pick

One friend's vehement belief about reality TV is: It is not reality at all; it is staged! My response is: True. In other words, some aspects of the environment, as well as the challenges chosen and the week the particular competition is done (especially on Survivor), may give favor to a certain contestant or contestants. 

For example, the stronger, the more agile, or the puzzle-proficient reality contestants have an advantage, and the directors might take that into account when planning which competition to do when. However, who can say whether Contestant Bob or Beth will be in full swing physically or mentally at the time of the competition? Factors like the scorching sun, deprivation, and hangry emotions are real. Isn't that real life, too?

Over 25 seasons as reality TV regulars labels us true-blue super fans (in dog years, that is 12 x 7, or over 70 years). A couch-potato hour after eating dinner on a weeknight is our creative alternative to movie-watching (Huggy's least favorite activity 😕).

What is reality... really?

Reality TV invites us into our living room for nail-biting competitions and simultaneous belly-laughs. It is highly entertaining, clean fun. 

It has evolved into a natural way to connect and model "i love you" [I love being with you], on a regular basis.

Discussions about recent world happenings trump reality-TV for intriguing small talk. Just sayin'...

HAPPINESS IS: The Moon

Blood wolf moon, snow moon, any clear full moon

It was frigid and way past normal bedtime (it took more than a while to thaw out under our pile of covers at midnight) but, on the evening of January 20, 2019, Huggy and I were privileged to host the stars and the blood wolf moon. That big red ball hanging in the sky doesn't pose well for pictures, but in person it seemed close enough to touch.

Yes. We got mooned. My cell's amateur photo

GO, MOON! If I had ever attended a Beatles concert, I would have a picture to post about the experience. Like a backyard home theater dubbed Lunar-Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds!

When I think about it, being physically together wasn't necessary. In other words, if Huggy and I had been an ocean apart, and we both had clear skies, the same moon at the same moments and hours still could have been observed, together but apart. 

All of God’s skyward wonder was clearly displayed... in our backyard... on that beautiful and memorable night. It was an hours-long show that we managed to stay up for and (on-and-off) sit on our back porch to watch, for about an hour and a half. It would have been appropriate to pay admission and clap before coming inside for the night.

And again, on February 8, 2020, during our evening walk, at our nearby fountains, another full moon enraptured us. Dubbed by meteorologists as a snow moon. Because of clear skies, it was brilliant to behold. 

It is comforting to know that even after a half-cross-country move, living in a new state in a new time zone, with new surroundings altogether, the once-every-29.5-days full moon is a constant. No matter if Huggy and I temporarily disagree; no matter if our national leaders vehemently disagree; no matter if my identity documents in the red folder are lost or stolen; the moon, created by God Almighty and carefully set into the heavenlies... reminds us that He is our anchor.

Maybe, probably, actually, the thing I appreciate most is Huggy's enthusiasm about the together-activity. It demonstrates, more than any hug ever could, "i love you."