Our Favorite Blogs
The mindless musings of two middle-aged women facing life and menopause with a margarita and a sense of humor.
June 14, 2010, Home Delivery
I hate delivering my own purchases. I’m not talking about groceries here although I do hate unloading all those bags. I’m talking about those major purchases that usually take two or three burly men and a hand cart to pull off. Hubby doesn’t mind it. He’s all for saving a few dollars and bringing home the purchase in the back of the big red Ford truck he drives.
I’m less enthusiastic because I see the pitfalls to this sort of thing and something always happens when we do this. When the professionals deliver and scratch it, they bring you a new one. When you deliver it yourself and scratch it, oh well, I guess you’re just out of luck. So we tend to disagree over this type of thing whenever we make a major household purchase. Until recently anyway when I learned my lesson. Read more...
May 22, 2010, Middle-Aged Dating
My husband called me Friday afternoon and invited me on a date. With all the excitement of a newlywed, imagining candlelight and wine, I gushed yes. The rest of the afternoon crawled by as I wondered what to wear and if I had remembered to shave my legs, just in case I got lucky. He arrived at my desk promptly at five o’clock, obviously as eager for our time together as I was. He grinned engagingly and asked me if I was ready to go. It was very apparent that 25 years of marriage had not dimmed our mutual enjoyment of one another. Feeling rather smug as I waved good-bye to my co-workers, I asked where we were going. Without a word, he whipped out a picture of a chainsaw that was on sale at the local “Man-Store”. Not wanting to dampen his enthusiasm, I looked at the ad obligingly, thinking that he had misheard me. After all his hearing was not as young as it used to be. “I thought we could pick up “the kid”(our eight month old grandchild) and go to the “Man-store” and buy a chainsaw. Then tomorrow I could cut down that tree you have been wanting removed.” Ah, romance, it is not dead.
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