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Posts Tagged ‘men’

Pet Peeves?

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Another Tuesday.

Another Vlog.

Today I’m talking about Pet Peeves.

Sigh.

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I was really sick two weeks ago for about a month with a viral cold that WOULD NOT go away!

This cold dragged me down.

The coughing all night long, lack of energy, runny nose, it sucked.

So, because I like to discuss things when I feel like I need a plan (a plan for survival!) I brought it to Brian’s attention that this cold wasn’t sitting well with me and perhaps some form of action needed to be taken.

Me: I have no energy you know. Its almost as though I can’t even chew. This asparagus is hard to chew. Is yours hard to chew?

Brian: *Laughter* No. Asparagus is not hard to chew.

Me: Why aren’t you taking this seriously? I’m telling you there’s something very wrong with me. I’m telling you that my viral infection has now become something more and potentially deadly. I’m telling you I don’t have the energy to chew.

Brian: How’s the meat? Did you try the meat?

Me: It’s dry.

Me: How do you suppose I get energy? Is there a pill I can take? Should I stop asking for pills? Really though, aren’t you concerned?

Brian: Red Bull?

Me: You want my heart to explode?

Brian: Two or three of those a day and you’re back to normal.

Me; “Red Bull gives you wings” where in that sentence to you get “normal?”

Brian: Here, take my plate with you to the sink will ya?

Me: Are you kidding? I’ve barely got enough energy to carry this plate! I can hardly stand! You’re lucky I’m even talking right now!

Brian: I am lucky.

Me: No one takes me seriously. My back is killing me, I’m weak hun, weak! You don’t understand because you’re healthy.

Brian: My back is killing me too.

Me: No it’s not!

Brian: Yes it is, from gardening all day.

Me: You aren’t tired, you didn’t sleep in a chair last night, with a baby on you! You can carry a plate without the weight of it pulling you to the ground! You’re healthy, you’re strong! I envy your strength, your vitality!

Brian: You’re right. Go rest.

Me: *smile*

 

Survival of the fittest.

Sometimes that means mentally fit.

Take notes friends.

 

Leighann

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Most little girls grow up dreaming of their wedding days.

I did.

Hours spent draping oversized fabric around in preparation for my imaginary nuptials.

Growing up dreaming of my soul mate, my one true love, of the man I was destined to be with.

When I was 18 I fell in love. I was head over heals and believed I had found the one, we were going to be together forever.

My heart was broken.

I was 18. People change as they grow. I had changed and so had he. He was not my price charming and he was not my match.

As time went on friends became engaged and married, they expressed their love for one another in front of their families. Their love was evident, explosive, and unbreakable.

That little girl inside of me screamed.

She wanted that kind of love.

When would it be her turn?

Dating because an obsession, no longer fun and exciting. It became about meeting my criteria. I needed a break.

And then I meet him.

He made me nervous.

No one ever made me nervous.

His eyes pierced through me when he spoke and he was funny. I loved funny.

We were never apart.

Even now we are rarely apart. His easy-going nature, hilarity, and dedication to whatever he is doing make him so easy to be around. He is the most loyal person I have ever met, supportive and empathetic.

We welcomed a daughter in April 2010 and I saw him be a father for the first time.

We are blessed. This man will go to the ends of the earth for his family and for this I am more than grateful.

On June 1, 2011 he proposed to me.

Yes this year.

No we weren’t married.

Yes I know you thought we were.

Sorry I didn’t tell you.

I said yes.

Leighann

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With the apocalypse being only a day away Brian and I thought we should review our life insurance policies.

We crunched numbers, looked at pie charts, talked about savings plans, mutual funds, and short/long-term investments.

Please.

Get me to the part where I get money when a zombie eats Brian.

There was paperwork to fill out, t’s to cross, i’s to dot and the pressure to purchase more insurance than necessary was mounting.  Thanks to my sharp wit, dangerous glare, and also a few threats daring him to cross me, the stress was quickly eased.

I may have also threatened him with an elbow to the chin.

Yes really.

Important information was necessary and Brian went first. I drifted off into a dream land where all the bills were paid (true he was now a zombie and had to be locked in the basement and fed raw steak and ground beef but we were happy).

My turn came. Name, drivers license, another form of ID, age, height, weight.

I says pardon?

Weight.

No.

We’re done here.

I was in the middle of telling insurance man to pack up and leave, of informing him that no amount of coverage, Day of Rapture or not, was worth my telling him TO HIS FACE what I weigh, when Brian came back in the room.

OH WOMEN, YOU KNOW WOMEN.

No, I don’t. I waited for them to enlighten me.

Let me tell you something about insurance men. They will wait you out.

Brian wouldn’t let me kick him out and I wasn’t telling my weight so that man just sat patiently and waited.

Well played my friend.

We now have coverage.

Also?

I think even zombies are smart enough to know they should never ask a woman her weight.

Leighann


Let's BEE Friends

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Random Things He Says.

“Hun, can you help me with this post? I’m thinking hitchhiker, detour, mystery!”

It flowed effortlessly.

“It’s been done before.”

Shot. Down.

“The prompt is detour. It could be taken figuratively or literally.”

Confusion.

“What kind of detour?  A detour of the heart?”

“Some may do that. I’m thinking something more gruesome, maybe involving a knife?”

I need a new muse.

“The cat!”

“Brian the cat can’t detour.”

Or be my muse.

“Look at the cat! She’s taking a DETOUR, through the banister because the baby gate is closed!  DETOUR

HUN!!”

“Yes Brian, Detour!”

“You said the cat couldn’t detour and SHE DID!!”

“Thank you, well done. You proved me wrong.”

Death stare

“ How about you write about a miner, with a waterfall, and then there’s some dude, with something in his

pocket!  What’s in there?  I don’t know AND what’s he diggin’ for?”

Much laughter, and typing.

“Are you typing what I’m saying?”

“No hun.”

More typing.

“Now I have to keep my mouth shut at work and at home….. talking is a sickness.”

Giggles and then a cough to hide more typing.

“I know you’re writing everything I say! But before I go, one more piece of advice! Write about Star Wars,

not Star Trek, no one likes them. You don’t like Star Wars either but you really should watch it hun,

everyone likes it but you.”

Detour.

Leighann

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Snow Day

02/05/2011

 

To know Brian is to know he lives to groom our lawn.

In the summer he meticulously mows the lawn every other day in perfectly straight lines, ensuring the grass height and cut is appropriate for the amount of rain expected.

We take detours around town measuring his cutting skills against other mowers’ and occasionally stop to ask what type of seed, mulch, or machine they’ve used to achieve such success.

Brown spots on our lawn are treated, grubs removed, trees trimmed.

Failure is not an option.

In the winter snow flakes make him giggly.

He paces between the window and television listening for reports on accumulation and he has been known to snow blow three times in one day.

His lines, like in the summer, are perfect and flow endlessly into one another. He ensures all the snow piles perfectly in one area and calls me to the window to look at his work when he finishes.

Pictures have been taken when he’s specifically proud of a job. Pictures with his machines, which he keeps cleaner than our cars.

When Snowapalooza was splattered all over the news Brian looked pale. His excitement was at a level I’d never seen before. He had trouble getting to sleep and he sat at the window willing it to snow more.

He called his mom and they talked about snow plowing the driveway for 40 minutes.

When he finally went out to tackle the intense mass of snow he looked back at me with determination, his eyes big, and told me to “Bunker down!”

I don’t even know what that means.

Wrapped tightly in his brown work coat, fuzzy hat with drop down ears (that I bought him for a joke but he totally loved), and big winter boots he set off to face the elements leaving me to “bunker down.”

He snow plowed for hours with a smile plastered on his face. The driveway was row upon row of tidy lines and he stood back to admire his work.

I watched from my spot on the couch where I was “bunkered down” and received the signal that it was time for a picture. THIS was one of the rare occasions. THIS was an award winning plow.

We photographed his work, got a few different poses, I even humoured him and suggested a few shots thinking it would bring him inside. It did, but when a man like him, a man so addicted to grooming his lawn, plows a snow fall like this one a couple hours plow would just scratch the surface of a very deep itch.

Brian began to gaze out the window… he stared at the neighbours driveway which was  filled with snow.

“Hun, Bunker down!”

Picture

Leighann

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02/04/2011
For this weeks Red Writing Hood Prompt we were asked to write a short piece in which a character told a joke and a character cried. The piece has to be maximum 600 words and must be able to be read aloud in no more than 3 minutes.

This post is a continuation of last weeks Red Writing Hood post

SLAM!

“honey, you here?”

She could hear a woman’s voice. This wasn’t happening. She was sure this was the man of her dreams and now the walls were closing in on her. Air, she needed air.

Bending down as close to the floor as she could get she searched frantically for her clothes, sweeping the rough carpet for any article she could find.

She looked up at him trying to find some form of explanation in his face.
“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere!” He whispered.

Where was she going to go, they were stuck in a blizzard for God’s sake.

What the hell had she gotten herself into? She thought about jumping out of the window and ran over to see how high up she really was, but when she looked out she was reminded of the storm. If she jumped she’d freeze to death…hmph not a bad alternative at this point.

She could hear muffled talking and footsteps, some laughter. Tears began to sting her eyes and she let them roll down her cheeks.

A home wrecker, she was a home wrecker! Oh what would her mother think?

While she waited, huddled in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest, she scanned the room; earrings, perfume, perfectly arranged picture frames. Why hadn’t she noticed before?

Footsteps.

Butterflies.

“Hey, I told her you were here, told her you’re a friend from work. Said you couldn’t get your car started so I brought you here to wait out the storm. I said you’re getting cleaned up.” He looked pale and scared.

“You’re brilliant. If only every woman had a man as smart and attentive to their needs as you.”

He laughed and tried to touch her cheek.

For a brief moment she wanted him to, she smiled at him.

And then she sobbed.

Picture
Leighann

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