Bob, I'm human too, I'm the victim of myself, Writing

Is it impossible to die of embarrassment?!

Earlier this school year, my kids started getting into chatting on the phone. I am not a fan of this as it’s not just the phone, but it’s…FaceTime and it makes me feel as if I HAVE to keep my house spotless at all times because you never know when one of their little friends is going to call.

For example, this morning, I got out of the shower and just as soon as I got my hair up into a makeshift beehive with my towel, the phone starts ringing. I picked it up and almost hit answer when I realized it was a FACETIME call and there was no way I was going to answer such a call wearing a beehive and my birthday suit! Good heavens.

Not to be deterred, a little later when I was dressed, my kids got their grubby hands on the phone and FaceTimed one of their friends. As is custom, each child MUST give a complete tour of their home to everyone who calls–no matter if they’ve seen the house before or not.

After several wails and giggles, I heard them nearing the living room where I’m tapping away on a very…involved scene with Simon an Henrietta (with super messy hair, I might add) and my husband was lounging in a robe and underwear on the couch watching The Larry Crowne Affair. Carefully, I draw myself away from the computer and creep down the hall and position myself so I’ll be out of sight from the camera and inform Henry that his tour needs to stop at the end of the hall today.

He nods his understanding and immediately says, “Billy, I can’t show you anymore, my parents are in the living room watching an adult movie.”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to laugh or die of humiliation! Unfortunately, I only made it worse when I said, “Tell him the movie is fine, it’s that your dad isn’t dressed for viewing.”

He nodded again, “My dad is being inappropriate.”

Just kill me now!

Happy Monday, everyone!

Behind the Scenes, Bob, Characters, funny, I'm human too, Just for Fun, Liberty for Paul, Scandalous Sisters Series, things that make me laugh, Wicked Wednesday

Antique stores–not just for antiques anymore!

I live about 15-20 minutes away from a quaint older town that still has a historic downtown which consists of a main street with massive turn-of-the-century buildings that contain some items as old (or older) than the buildings.

The buildings are old. The floors creak and groan when you walk on them. Some (okay, almost all) of the stores have a…er…aroma when you walk in that seems to get stronger when you pass by specific areas.

I love it!

But what makes these stores interesting is that they’re not antiques all owned by the store owner, but rather the store is divided into sections or booths and it’s like an indoor, year-round flea market. And, what’s also neat is it’s not just limited to antiques. Sure, I’ve found some totally awesome antiques in some of these shops: vintage typewriter, candlestick phone, wall-mounted crank telephone (with guts), ice tongs, cotton scale, 50s style milk bottles–and the carrying crate; I’ve also found plenty of new items that are either made to look vintage or they’re just plain modern, but obviously people (including me…) are buying them or they wouldn’t be putting them in these booths any longer. Some of these include: bath salts, candles, salsa, custom made signs, CDs, tapes, records, DVDs, VHS tapes, greeting cards either handmade or a package of unwanted store-bought cards, soap, fancy mirrors, miscellaneous silver pieces, crayons, mis-matched plates, etc. You name it, it’s in there somewhere. I once half-jokingly told my husband Bob that it’s like some of these people are having a garage sale without the garage or the need to actually bother with running the drawer themselves. If/when it sells, it sells and if it doesn’t, they just go collect it all when they’re ready to stop renting space.

It’s truly a wonder (and I bet you all have at least one of these little treasure troves near you).

About once a month, I go troll through the row of stores. Yesterday was my January “run”. Some months I just go and look and try to keep my jaw hinged. Other times I buy something in each store. I don’t plan it that way, but it happens. I go in. Something calls my name and I have to take it home. I actually save up each month for these trips.

Yesterday only one thing called to me, and oh, did it scream! Now, it’s probably not what anyone else I know would have walked out with, but it had my name written all over it and shows you that I, too, can be just as scandalous as any of the Banks sisters…specifically Liberty. 😉

IMG_3197

So of course, I had to hang it above the door to my laundry room although I doubt anyone will…

IMG_3198

 

(Oh, hey, look as an added bonus, this falls on a Wicked Wednesday!)

Bob, Edits from Bob, Fun Fact Friday, Officer Series, The Officer and the Traveler

Friday Fun~Bob’s Edits for The Officer and the Traveler

Unfortunately, Bob read this book in the middle of the semester, so he left fewer comments than usual. One somewhat hilarious thing he did do, however, was stayed up until 1:30 reading it which might have been because I may or may not have told him that there were seven bedroom scenes…

  • No. Just no.
  • Oooh, plump limps, how interesting (oops, that was supposed to be plump lips!)
  • Reword this sentence, it sounds funny and not in a “ha ha” sort of way
  • Oh me, oh my!
  • And eat some Frosted Flakes, cause they’re Grrrreat! (This was in reference to Gray skipping dinner and going straight to the watchtower.)
  • Delete
  • Umm, when I tried to give you a different word to use here, I didn’t realize the context you were wanting to use it, but this isn’t it
  • HUH?
  • Oh, how diplomatic… Not.
  • Would genuine ladies be so forward, Mrs. Gordon?
  • Now that’s a strange saying–but we’d expect nothing less from you
  • A womanizer with morals?!
  • Turbo! (Just to be clear this was not a remark said in conduction with a love scene, but rather a reference to a snail in a race.)
  • I think if she’s there, she’s present
  • Woolgathering?
  • Gasp!
  • Different word needed, if someone reads this too fast… Yikes!
  • Switch this and that
  • Now that is scandalous!

And my favorite comment he made about the book: Did you model General Davis after your father?

Don’t forget, this book is now available so if you haven’t already read it, you can read it now along with Bob’s commentary. Or if you’ve already read it, you can make a game of figuring out where everything goes! Have a wonderful weekend!

Traveler FGOS
Captain Grayson Montgomery has just let his mouth get him into trouble again—quite literally. Being promptly informed that he must either marry the young lady he was caught with in a scandalous embrace or face a possible seven years of hard labor, Gray makes the obvious choice to marry her. It’ll just be a marriage of circumstance with no chance of either getting hurt.

Michaela Davis is in a state of shock. First, she was kissed nearly senseless by a sweet talking stranger, only to have the bliss end with the uncomfortable realization that they’d been seen! And by her father, no less. If that’s not bad enough, who she thought was just a charming stranger is none other than the heartless cad who broke her young heart as a girl!

Circumstances might dictate that they marry, but they’re both about to learn that circumstances don’t always bring about a happily-ever-after—only they can control that.

   

Bob, Edits from Bob, Just for Fun

Life would be boring without husbands…

…and so would the third round of editing a book.

Or at least that’s my feelings.

Today, I’ll post the typos and comical thoughts Bob had on His Brother’s Bride when he read it after the second draft to offer a man’s perspective.

But first, I have to go back Jilted. There was a comment he made that was totally hysterical (to me) that I didn’t post because I didn’t want to ruin anything for anyone. It’s been more than two months now so I don’t think I’m in as much danger of spoiling anything for those who follow me here.

At the end of the second chapter, after Amelia has woken up from her drug-induced sleep only to return home and be told by her brother that she’ll have to marry Lord Friar, post haste, my husband left a comment saying, “The moral of this story is: Don’t drink the fruity punch!”

With no further ado, here are his thoughts on my upcoming book:

  • Compost is good for gardening… (Honestly, I don’t understand this one as the word I’d put was compose instead of composed.)
  • At times like this, I think you say ‘at times’ too much.
  • With his mustache? (This was totally off the way, and an inside joke, I’m afraid. We have a friend who has a really thick, bushy mustache that I always refer to as a broom because of all of its bristles. So when I said, “Henry swept her from the top of her head to the hem of her wide skirt…” his mind went to brooms. Strange man.)
  • Oh, the dramatics.
  • This might the a bit much…
  • She didn’t want to go into the house earlier, and now she’s sleeping in his bed? Fickle woman.
  • Why is she questioning this? Didn’t she just watch him make it? (Yes, dear, and if you’d keep reading, you’ll notice he asks her the same question!)
  • She did not!
  • Mrs. Gordon, you’s all sorts of nasty today. (Uh, yeah, when reading the sentence, you’d think he had more delicate sensibilities than Lady O pretends to have. Good grief, we haven’t gotten to the scandalizing parts yet.)
  • This sounds more like a liver disease than a flower to me.
  • Oh, so funny, darling. Only you.
  • Dog poo? (Oops, I had two “do’s” in a sentence. I swear, I’d be a wreck without his good sense and careful eye…)
  • Spotted, huh. Did he have leprosy? (No, actually, acne.)
  • Men don’t lose their breath when they’re excited by what they see, they get a– (That’ll be enough of that, Mr. Gordon!)
  • Funny sentence structure.
  • Isn’t this a little excessive. Demand they marry because they dance more than twice at a ball? (Sadly, no, it was very realistic.)
  • Henry has my sympathy, you’re chilly, too, sometimes. (Thanks, dear.)
  • This is too vague. I think you need to be more descriptive in such a scene. (In case you’re curious, it was an intimate scene. Honestly, I get awkward as it is with those, I couldn’t imagine being more descriptive.)

For as crazy as Bob makes me at times, he never fails to amuse me with what he thinks are important changes to my books. Admittedly, I have taken several of his suggestions over the year (mainly on correcting typos), and I always look forward to his thoughts. I hope you all have a wonderful Tuesday!

Bob, I'm the victim of myself, Just for Fun, My own craziness, Randomness

How was Sweetheart’s Day?

[DISCLAIMER: I hesitated to write this because I know there are some unmarried or unattached readers who follow me, but I wanted to put this out there for anyone who might have made their significant other sleep on the sofa last night.]

I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day.

That pretty much sums up my feelings on the “holiday” that I affectionately call Sweetheart’s Day.

It’s not because I was that girl who never had a date or a boyfriend on Feb. 14th, but for me, and this is just me, I prefer my imperfect husband to a hero from a romance novel who goes “all out” on “big” days.

Bob is flawed. Flawed. Flawed. FLAWED! I won’t lie. He is. His mouth needs a filter–not because he uses filthy language, but because he doesn’t always think things through before he says them. An example: Why didn’t you just wear your robe to cook breakfast? It seems a waste to put on a dress to cook breakfast before church only to change into what you’re going to wear to church after the meal. Uh, dear, this was what I was going to wear… He has this awful tendency to interrupt me and need something at the worst time possible. An example: clothes have just come off of the fictional characters and I get a text asking me if he left his homework on the printer? After I go look and see that indeed he did, I know what’s coming, “Can you bring it up to the college for me?” Sure, dear, I wasn’t doing anything of any import. Often when we’re driving, he’ll miss his exit or turn because he’s talking. Or more recently, when he unknowingly keeps sending me inappropriate texts while I’m at the cell phone store getting my phone fixed…

Whenever he does any of these things, or exhibits any of his other unmentioned flaws, he always pulls a face, blinks his eyes and says, “You love me, don’t you?”

Yes, I do. Every day I love him. Whether it’s a good day or a not-so-good day, I love him. And for as much as I try to deny it on the not-so-good days, I know that he loves me. I know this because of how he treats me.

We’ve only celebrated Valentine’s Day once before yesterday and the only reason we did anything yesterday was because it fell on Thursday or Date Day as we call it. The first year we were married we did something. Ever since then, getting a card and trinket from him is hit and miss. We’ve never gone out to dinner (this has a lot to do with having children though, too). And the majority of my gifts (and cards) for anything from our anniversary  to my birthday to the occasional Valentine’s Day card have come from the gift shop at the hospital where he worked.

This never bothered me until someone made mention of it and made a big deal out of it. Then, suddenly it became disappointing. Bob hadn’t put enough forethought into any “special” day to order flowers (something he’s only done three times in eight years) or buy an extravagant gift, because believe me, options are limited at the gift shop. Not that I don’t still love (and wear) my set of three mis-matched socks, I do. I even still have the floppy pen that magnets to the refrigerator and the gigantic crocks. But in all of my hurt feelings, I approached him about this, and I wasn’t prepared for his answer:

“I’m an every day husband. I don’t do well planning big dates (which explains a lot in regards to our courtship, by the way). I try to show you that I love you every day, not make a huge show of it a few times a year.”

Talk about a moment where you’re caught completely off-gaurad and put in your place. It wasn’t that his words were spoken unkindly, they weren’t. They were just the honest truth. Something that in my moment of self-pity had missed. Bob helps me with the dishes and laundry almost daily. He reaches all of the high cabinets and shelves in our house for me. He rubs my feet, back and shoulders without being asked because he knows they hurt from my RA. Because I can’t see small details very well, he offers about once a month to paint my toenails. Seriously. And when I take him up on this, he goes all out: foot bath, creams, he even teases and bring out the pumice–not that I’d ever need such. Every day before I leave to take the kids to school he insists we kiss, no matter how much our kids hate to see it. He reads all of my books–and offers oh, so insightful opinions on them all. Bob also doesn’t mind and complain that I discuss him on my blog, either. LOL There are many, many things I didn’t realize that he does that while not big displays such as a giant bouquet of flowers, chocolates and some sort of gift, are just as meaningful and probably even more so to me.

I’m not saying not to appreciate and love the gifts and whatnot–do. But, if you didn’t get everything you expected or find yourself wishing he’d put a little more thought and planning into the night, you might actually have an “every day” partner, and have never realized it before!