I am sorry for the blurry quality of the photograph but I was laughing so much… Despite my amorous adventure in Mexico, Courtship by an Angel…, there is only one true soul-mate for me. Teddy!!!! We both forgot about Valentine’s Day this year and he is currently on vacation in California. Yes, it really is a new brush for Teddy wrapped in pink chiffon. Many years ago Teddy made a terrible mistake and bought me a peg-bag (for hanging up washing) and a kitchen clock for Christmas. I have always wanted to get my revenge and this week I did. We really did need a new brush and Teddy mostly uses it to carefully clean up our utility room every morning at 5 am. He scoops out the litter boxes, feeds Toffee and gives her medicine. Now that is a true Valentine.
When he saw it propped in the garage, he burst out laughing, as did I, and I think that is our recipe for success. He is romantic and silly and still looks damn good naked. I was very shallow when I met him and fell for his six-pack and blonde hair. After 35 years together we have had the most romantic vacations such as falling into a bed of roses in Istanbul, getting very frisky in a mirrored room in the Hard Rock Hotel in Palm Springs but we have also helped give enemas and removed zits from awkward places. Teddy most amuses me when he wanders around the bedroom with just a t-shirt on with his appendages sticking out the bottom. His bottom looks amazing for his age and I like to squeeze it.
As I told Angel, my husband is really very romantic, much more so than me. We love snuggling and spooning. Some sexual intimacy has faded but our erotic intimacy has not. Life changes with each decade. We play a little game each night called hand sex where we pretend our hands are having sex. Recently he initiated this in a restaurant and I was mortified. No one could possibly know what we were doing but it has become our secret pleasure.
We go out for brunch every Saturday and he holds hands across the table, looking into my eyes, sometimes whispering that I am beautiful or my eyes are so blue. We still occasionally dance in the kitchen or he has a quick feel of my boobs or bottom which results in a playful slap. Mostly I say, “Don’t touch what you can’t afford” and go running through the house to escape his clutches. What touches me the most is when I remind him of my mother; I had a complicated history with an alcoholic mentally ill parent. Teddy could see through all of that to the vulnerable, naïve, beautiful soul that was hers.
BUNNY LOVES TEDDY to Pluto and back!
Here is the backstory – I like to eat snacks in bed. On this occasion I was enjoying a juicy plum. The next morning I got up and sleepily went for my bath. Like most of us, I concentrate on the potentially odorous body parts and give a cat’s lick to the rest. I glanced at myself in the mirror as I was drying myself with the bath towel only to notice I had a bar code for a plum on one of my plums!
Laughingly, I realized that I had bathed insufficiently much like Toffee, our elderly cat, who has a medieval annual bath… It was so funny that I thought I would share this with my husband. We married long before the internet was accessible to Plebeians and although we wrote long love letters that flew across the world, we missed out on the delights of sexting. Ah ha, the opportunity to sext had presented itself. Eventually Teddy noticed his text and responded ROTFLOL. Really? Surely those plums were worth a “can’t wait to get home, baby” or a photo of his body parts that don’t include a shingles rash. My first sext was a fail.😔
It struck me that I was so lucky to have been young and stupid BEFORE sexting selfies. Now I am just old and don’t care. I would have been sexting left and right, especially after a night of ‘refreshments’. Back in the day I had an amazing figure and was more than happy to show it off, especially bra-less.
When I first moved to our conservative part of Texas I was amazed that the letter page in our local paper was full of our neighbors’ outrage about a large Victoria’s Secret poster on our turn off the interstate. Wait for it…..she was wearing a BRA! According to the letter writers, this was a likely cause of accidents and moral degeneration. Then I discovered that nipples were vulgar and wondered where I had moved to. Amish country? Thirteen years have passed and now I flinch when I see a hint of nipple. We adapt to our surroundings. When we lived in Egypt decolletage caused both expats and locals to gasp in horror. Well now my reputation is completely ruined. Next stop, Sodom or Gomorrah.
During Hurricane Harvey, my husband, Teddy, was stuck in Utah because the flights were cancelled into Houston. We had talked the day before he was due to leave and he was running out of Gabapentin because like most of us, we only pack a couple of days extra medication. I suggested he call our health care provider and see if they could send a prescription because it is dangerous to not taper off this medication, which was prescribed for his migraines. Like everyone else, we had no idea that Harvey was going to be such a catastrophic weather event and initially I suggested he taper his drugs by one third.
Then he complained about a rash from bug-bites. Not so; it was undiagnosed shingles! He noticed it the day of the eclipse where he was outside in very hot temperatures taking photographs. Somewhat ironically, Gabapentin can be used to help with the nerve pain of shingles so he probably didn’t feel the nerve pain initially. After the hurricane hit, Teddy was still stuck in Utah. When he called me, I asked him if he could talk me through using the WII Fit which I haven’t used in years. Like most married couples, technical issues can create a divorce inducing argument. Teddy raised his voice at me (during a flipping hurricane!) and I immediately shouted back. It is his fault for provoking a Hispanic/Irish wife…
During our ‘conversation’, I realized that Teddy was very upset and I backed down, concerned for his health. Eventually he traveled from Utah to Denver to Austin and intended to drive home from there. The weather conditions were still too bad for him to reach our home with most roads blocked. By this time he had to go to Urgent Care for more blood pressure medication and then the rash. Curiously, the Medic diagnosed it as bug bites and prescribed an antibiotic cream.
Finally, he made it all the way home and suddenly his strange mood made sense. We were both a little tearful when he returned because no matter what I said, it was really scary not knowing what would happen next with the weather. When he showed me the rash I recognized it as shingles. Our own doctor prescribed anti-viral medication for him which helped reduce the spread of the rash which was also hurting at the front of his chest. Shingles is infectious and you can spread the chickenpox virus. I caught chickenpox when I was about 30 and I thought I was dying – it is much more serious in adults. He is now well on the road to recovery from this second bout of shingles and he will get the vaccine when he is better. (I have stopped quarantining him…and removed the red cross from the door).
On a much lighter note, we went to Nordstroms’ Rack a few weeks ago for Shrek size shoes for Teddy. He insisted on buying these Psycho Bunny boxers – what do you think he is trying to say to his Bunny??? They are extra cute, though.🐰
PSYCHO BUNNY PANTS
New flannel sheets!
My husband used to travel much more frequently than he does now but he recently went to Austin for a conference. By happenstance, the new flannel sheets had arrived; they not only look lovely but feel amazing. Why flannel sheets in the subtropics, you ask? Teddy was a
Princess Prince in another life and I discovered decades ago that he could really feel a pea under 20 mattresses. The bed has to be soft and comfortable, yet perfectly made. My mum knew how to look after him with perfectly ironed sheets and underwear…
SO FLUFFY I COULD DIE!!!
In the back of my disturbed head, I have a secret fear that he will leave home and live in a hotel if I don’t provide a clean, freshly made bed on his return. Teddy hates hotels so the fear is not based on truth but more of my own distaste of returning to an imperfect bed after staying in hotels (which I love).
Wine and soap
On the dresser you can see a bottle of Pinot Noir and some handmade soap that were my gift for his birthday. Shortly after I moved to the USA, I started a new anti-depressant that made me ‘high’ and I was finally able to make soaps (a long held desire). I am so good at it that friends asked me to sell them. There were a couple of orders for baby shower favors which made me gasp with horror. Not only did they know the sex of the baby but they had chosen a name! In the UK we only gave gifts after the birth just in case the baby did not survive. How do you know if she is going to be Apple or Peaches or Trixiebelle until you see her adorable little face? Eventually I had to come off the euphoric medication and realized I am allergic to the soap fragrances (even the best quality). Now I just make them on special occasions and never use them myself as I have a prescription Sulphur wash.
So what is the point of this blog? I love my husband so I make him comfortable and that is one of the secrets to a long marriage. I make him soaps even though I get a headache and I can’t drink red wine but buy him his favorite. That said, Teddy is currently in the wilds of Utah, Idaho or Montana – I don’t monitor his movements. When he comes back, he will have another fresh bed but he is going on a diet because his shirts are tight… Guess who is going to eat all the meat and booze that he can in Brokeback country???
Kerry wearing her favorite Max Studio dress from some years ago with a rust crochet topper and matching BOC shoes
It is my
57th 37th birthday today and I have a new hair color to celebrate. It was also our 35th wedding anniversary yesterday so last week I decided to try a new hair color at home and have my hair cut. Every manufacturer of hair color is different so even if you choose the same color and number #, it might tint your hair an unusual shade. It did…
In the photograph above you can see more of the color underneath – it came out dark blonde, almost brown. There was no panic because at least it wasn’t green but I thought, “why don’t I try frosting/highlighting the brown?” Off I sped to CVS and spent less than $20 on a L’Oreal frosting kit in Iced Champagne. They very cleverly color the frosting blue so that when you apply it you can see the highlights more easily. I started out with the little brush and quickly moved on to just using my gloved fingers with two mirrors to see the back of my head.
To my astonishment, it turned out really nicely and even my hairdresser complimented me. She cut it to accentuate the highlights. I will probably color it all over with a lighter blonde when it next needs done but might try this technique on occasion. Teddy took these photographs at the weekend and we had great plans to go out to dinner on the 19th but we are both sick! Both of us have headaches and nausea so spent our anniversary watching the latest Game of Thrones in pajamas with very bland food. Ah well, on the bright side I will have kept off the weight that I have struggled to lose and my bras will still fit!
Now, this is my kind of Viking! Grrrrr…
I hope the title of this post intrigues you to read to the end. The story is all over the place but linked by DNA. Teddy, my husband, and I have always been competitive about our various ailments/oddities. That is why we are soul-mates… Recently, Ted had been complaining about a little growth on his pinkie finger. Long story short, the Italian American surgeon operated and came out to tell me what the prognosis was after the surgery. Unexpectedly, he told me it was a benign tumor and he had never seen anything like it. It seemed to be wrapped around the tendon. Then he told me that he had his DNA test and discovered (to his obvious Braveheart excitement) that he had a significant percentage of Scottish DNA. This was a red letter day for him – an unusual surgery on his Scottish compatriot. I had to gently let him know that the Scottish wife was really an Irish Hispanic mix. Hilariously, to me, he could not have looked more Italian but perhaps in his heart he was wearing blue Woad and tartan.
The growth went to pathology and a week later Teddy met with the Italian/Scots surgeon who excitedly told him that it was Dupruyen’s Contracture, a thickening of tendons in the hand that most commonly occurs in men around age 60 from Northern Europe. In Teddy’s case the thickening was on the upside of the finger when it is usually the other way around. When he came home we Googled it to find out that it is sometimes called Viking Finger. Can you imagine the fun I had with vulgar comments about my Viking’s Finger and where he could put it?? I have to admit that this month he has beat my giant cyst, Pumpkin, and the atrophied hoo-ha.
This led on to thinking what our DNA tests have done to us. Despite being 60% Irish, I cling defensively to my Conquistador heritage with a dash of Native American. I am deeply unhappy that Teddy has 4% more Iberian DNA than me. He is unhappy that he has no Native American ancestry despite having no American relatives. On many an occasion, a flirtatious Hispanic man has been so disappointed that my maiden name was Ortega. “But you look Scandinavian or Irish!” Our family was convinced that we were secretly Jewish but my DNA indicates otherwise…
So, I am at the airport this weekend and yet another Arabic man flirts with me (or is the other way around)? I would have guessed that he was a little older than me. First, he tells me I am beautiful. That elicited a smile and thank you. Then he asked me what age I was. I was surprised at the query but answered honestly that I will be 57 in a month. He looked me over and said, “I would have taken you for 51, maybe 52.” WTF!!!! Surely he could have told a little white lie and suggested 45? I will take any compliment but that was a bit ‘meh’. Then he asked me where I was from and I told him the usual spiel. You could see the disappointment on his face when I told him I had North African and Middle Eastern ancestry. “But you look Scandinavian”. I sighed and agreed that I had 1% Scandinavian ancestry. Now he was happy that he had flirted with one of ABBA’s kin.
I am beginning to come to terms that I am as Irish as a Mullingar heifer no matter how varied my DNA is. I sound Celtic, I look Irish and in America that is way more fascinating than all that Conquistador stuff. Isn’t it funny how life changes? At one time being Irish in America was as welcome as a Mexican immigrant. Well, I have both Irish and Mexican immigrant ancestors so to all the haters out there; I am raising one Viking Finger!
When my husband, Teddy, sent me an email from Oklahoma with a photo of a handwritten note, I thought, ‘here we go, he has been pretending to be Sean Connery again’. The lovely server had asked him about his rings. He has a large silver and turquoise ring and a Celtic gold one. No doubt he had a few refreshments by then but showed her my photograph, explained that I was part native and that we were married for 35 years.
The silver ring was just a lucky gift when we were browsing a shop selling Native American goods in Rice Village, Houston. Some very rich guy had ordered a custom made silver and turquoise for his larger than average fingers. After trying it one, he decided he wanted something even more ostentatious. The original ring was being sold cheap until another werewolf popped in. Teddy’s has big hands but also large knuckles from arthritis that started in his 30’s. (Rather suspiciously he is growing werewolf hair on his shoulders…)
The gold ring was his 40th birthday present from me. By that stage he had two wedding rings because of the increasing knuckle size. I took those plus some of his granny’s rings to a goldsmith and chose a Celtic interwoven pattern from a book of sketches. He loved it! As time went by the knuckles became more inflamed and it didn’t fit again. About two years ago we took a chance with a local jeweler who increased it by expanding the pattern with more gold. It was fantastic!
We were not fortunate enough to spawn although we always wondered about creating some crazy mutant werewolf…🐺 He is still in Oklahoma for Father’s Day but there was a card in his suitcase signed by Toffee, our cat, Katniss and her new kitten (that’s another story), the armadillos, the possums, the skunks, the raccoons and cicadas. Teddy has been a fabulous Daddy to all our pussycats and clearly he would have made a lovely grandfather…
Love Nana Bunny
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!!!