tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54526142002010317932011-07-08T02:25:25.602-07:00Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.comBlogger501100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-87624342664792647662009-11-11T14:24:00.000-08:002009-11-11T14:31:35.688-08:00

For every freedom we enjoy in our nation today, we honor all those who first served and gave to establish these freedoms, all those who have since served and given to protect these freedoms, and all those who are serving and giving right now to ensure these freedoms for the future. To all of you everywhere, you are the Noble Ones. On this Veteran's Day and every day, we salute you.

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-35516202711517362482009-09-11T07:21:00.000-07:002009-09-11T08:18:34.088-07:00

Eleven years ago one Sunday morning, I was assisting with the children’s ministry at church. All the kids were gathered for a special event: a visit from a real firefighter. One of our pastors was a career man, and he came to talk to the kids about fire safety.At the end of the visit, he discussed the scariest scenario: being trapped in a burning building. As he spoke, he began putting on all his

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-62498264617512927522009-09-02T23:43:00.000-07:002009-09-02T23:51:29.845-07:00

I’ve often marveled at the mystical relationship between women and their chocolate. Light or dark, world-class or cheap, the fruit of the cocoa bean seems to be an enchanted concoction that can transform the ladies from worn down and woebegone to effusive and exuberant in a single bite.I’ve even been a bit arrogant from time to time, boasting about how we men are clearly above such nonsense.But

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-10556708082456393562009-06-16T09:24:00.000-07:002009-06-16T09:44:56.471-07:00

When I was young, I envisioned my dream girl. She had long, curly brown hair, deep dark eyes.Oh, yeah: and a great personality.I kept on dreaming.When I was in college, I met a first-year girl. She was bold, playful, mischievous, and full of laughter. She had a great personality.Oh, yeah: and gorgeous long, curly brown hair, sparkling deep dark eyes, I started dreaming all over again.Now at 44

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-16417088295332095562009-02-14T08:23:00.000-08:002009-02-14T09:35:26.935-08:00

“When did you know you loved me?” she asks.Memories leap toward me, like children offered cupcakes. “Me, me, don’t forget me!”The night we met twenty four years ago, your first few minutes at college, when I was a Dorm Assistant who had nearly memorized the names of the new freshman, and I had just met your roommate, and your first words to me were the challenge, “So what’s MY name?”, and I

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-76310006579192974142009-01-05T07:48:00.000-08:002009-01-05T08:05:11.934-08:00

2008 was the year of struggle. How to make ends meet, whether to move or stay put, what to do about the car.I’ve been waiting for something in the mail. I hate waiting for something in the mail, especially when it’s something special for someone else.But it finally arrived a little while before the holidays, so I saved it to be a special Christmas present. I was more excited about giving this

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-89034691685504898212008-12-31T09:55:00.000-08:002008-12-31T15:11:32.953-08:00

Photo MendocinoA couple we know commemorated their 40+ years of marriage with a big outdoor party. Their property is a plot of land in the woods near the coast in Northern California. They operate a small retreat center, and have had their share of ups and downs over the years. But on that day, they were truly able to celebrate their lives together.One of their guests said to the man, “That’s a

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-6257477717487797512008-12-24T09:13:00.000-08:002008-12-24T09:26:57.426-08:00

Photo courtesy of Clip ArtOne of my favorite Christmastime treats is the music. Year after year, I listen to the same delightful songs and passionate melodies and never tire of them. Each one is like a single holiday cookie set on a plate filled with cookies, inviting you to indulge in yet another magical piece of the season. I play a little piano, but only a very little. I often think how

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-7277730041104995892008-12-04T10:10:00.000-08:002008-12-04T10:14:06.948-08:00

“Be it ever so humble . . .”Ours is. It frequently evokes phrases like, “If only we had one more bedroom” and “It looks like they didn’t invent storage until after 1952.” The plumbing often rattles behind the scenes at night like a tone-deaf symphony. The kitchen counters are routinely cleared of everything, but over time, one or two items appear, and then they seem to breed or invite a few

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-44682220990699049492008-11-26T09:00:00.000-08:002008-11-26T09:08:03.819-08:00

“And a Snoopy sleeping bag.”On my 9th birthday, that was what I wanted most of all. The bright red one in the Sears catalog, with an outline of Snoopy lying on his doghouse, wearing a big smile.“OK!” my parents agreed.But when my birthday came, my sleeping bag did not come with it.“We’re so sorry,” they said, “but sometimes mail order items come much later than we hope.”I tried not to be too sad.

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-75181289404137478172008-11-18T08:56:00.000-08:002008-11-18T09:31:01.167-08:00

I recently discovered something about women that was new to me: their famous affection for shoes does not require that they always wear them. Sandra at Miss Fluffy Ruffles wrote a post showing and telling her delight with all things froo-froo and frilly, then suddenly shifted gears to say that she equally enjoys being barefoot. One of her readers, Connie at Living Beautifully, offered a comment

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-52942665387478186852008-11-10T07:34:00.000-08:002008-11-10T07:39:20.958-08:00

I don’t remember having a lot of them when I was young, but I sure remember having them. They were soft and delicate, so you always handled them gently. Not just to keep pieces from falling to the ground (the 10-second rule never seemed classy enough for chocolate cupcakes), but somehow they made you become careful, like the rambunctious kid who’s suddenly transformed when he’s handed a

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-38511775900303125682008-11-04T10:14:00.000-08:002008-11-04T10:19:29.628-08:00

“I hate waiting.” ~ Inigo Montoya, Spanish swordsman extraordinaire, The Princess BrideI hate waiting, too. But I didn’t realize how much until this week.Friday of the week prior, I ordered an item from an online store, to be delivered to my office. “It’ll go out Monday, so you should have it by the end of next week,” the phone rep told me. I was OK with that, and when it arrived on Wednesday

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-91553988101020135072008-10-27T08:01:00.000-07:002008-10-27T08:14:12.822-07:00

My wife creates exquisite paper shoes. When she’s finished with them, they look like this:I have a pair of shoes I wear for outdoor work. Like a beat-up truck or an old hound dog, they’ve been around a while. They look like this:I refer to them as durable and faithful. My wife calls them a disgrace.In their defense, these never-say-die troopers are probably 10 years old. They began as spiffy new

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-89206244604493087522008-10-20T21:43:00.000-07:002008-10-20T22:00:58.903-07:00

The word itself is delightful, conjuring up images of romantic Italy and exotic Spain.In my mind, it’s always the center of a peaceful night time scene, where friends share favorite old stories, and lovers share just-between-us dreams.In my home, it gently slows my pace, and I discover that I no longer talk, but only whisper.Like a midnight snowfall, it gently quiets the world and makes time

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-79217855560347000812008-07-14T22:11:00.000-07:002008-10-21T22:07:15.431-07:00

I’ve been gathering these for a while, and I now have a small collection.I think you’ll agree – and I hope you’ll enjoy:#5: “I need chocolate.”(courtesy of Ms. Everywoman)The quintessential female phrase. It always makes me wonder what women did before this divine delectable was discovered . . .#4: “I may have to do one wall in turquoise.”(courtesy of my wife)I’m still trying to figure out how to

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-12630087052459321112008-06-17T13:52:00.000-07:002008-08-19T01:50:51.976-07:00

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-55964206120924528192008-05-14T08:16:00.000-07:002008-05-14T08:22:07.758-07:00

BOULDER DAY!It was Boulder Day, the day the local landscaping company was delivering boulders. Two of them, for backyard décor. I’m not sure what the land-clearing pioneers of the West would have thought of this, but there we were.The “we” was four of us: Nancy and I, our (female) landscaper, and the (male) Boulder Delivery Guy (BDG). Being a professional BDG (and a really big one), he had no

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-70326602783308114352008-04-10T00:30:00.000-07:002008-04-10T01:01:32.319-07:00

My wife is the Queen of Storage. I’ll walk out of a room full of items in our tiny house as she sighs, “Where am I gonna put all this stuff?” Moments later I’ll return and everything’s gone.I have no idea where some of it goes. I leave large vases on the back room counter because there’s just nowhere to put them. I come back later and they’ve disappeared without a trace. I’ll search every cabinet

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-91186745516939979162008-04-08T09:03:00.001-07:002008-04-08T09:19:21.838-07:00

I used to think of my wife and me as masters of our dwelling, and myself as Lord of the Castle.But the truth is: we are not alone.Side by side with us dwell The Dress Forms, more properly known as The Other Ladies of the House.I only recently learned this about them. I had always thought they were just dummies. Then I learned otherwise.“Where do you want that thing?” I asked one day, as we

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-45327029168347674362008-03-21T10:13:00.000-07:002008-03-21T10:18:52.299-07:00

Ah, brilliant!Thank you all exceedingly. We can't wait to get out and strut. See you all this weekend! I'll respond to you all soon!Blessings,BILL

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-47397124547000530532008-03-20T22:55:00.000-07:002008-03-19T23:20:00.181-07:00

Hi ya, Gang!My dear gal was most insistent that she be properly escorted to this gala event – and who better for that task than yours truly?And as long as you all are helping her choose just the right Easter Bonnet, perhaps you can help me as well.I’m stuck on these four:Here’s a dapper twist on a classic look: an extra bit of tweak on the brim, and that dashing gray . . .Here’s the reverse of

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-52242969239965114882008-03-19T10:38:00.000-07:002008-03-19T10:43:09.343-07:00

We walk up to the checkout stand with our cart full of food – and I realize I left the checkbook at home.“Oops!” I smile sheepishly at my patient wife, and race out the door toward home.At the edge of the parking lot with her sign, that woman is there again, with her now familiar long scraggly hair, one bad eye, and a nice smile. I’m not sure she knows she’s smiling. Suddenly, I’m a bit annoyed.

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-1678693805479742022008-03-17T08:39:00.000-07:002008-03-17T08:50:06.944-07:00

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAYThis was one of my Father's favorite Irish TunesThere's a tear in your eye,And I'm wondering why,For it never should be there at all.With such pow'r in your smile,Sure a stone you'd beguile,So there's never a teardrop should fall.When your sweet lilting laughter'sLike some fairy song,And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;You should laugh all the whileAnd all other times

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-60079415754310752442008-03-14T09:25:00.000-07:002008-03-14T09:29:54.874-07:00

You never know where you’ll find life’s wisdom. But for marriage advice, I do know a great source: my friendly neighborhood chiropractor.I’ve picked up some real gems over the years from a couple of these smart ladies. Here are my favorites:The Top Three Chiropractic Marriage TipsTip #3: Straighten up.When I deal with my back, I don’t look like a slouch. And when I deal with my stuff, I don’t act

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-80063031338744416812008-03-12T01:05:00.000-07:002008-03-12T01:19:21.293-07:00

At last (the Husband believes), The Wife – his Wife – has a beautiful, large French Mirror with which to adorn her wall, and further France-ify her room, and check both her hair AND her outfit. Together. At the same time.But this Mirror will never make it to the wall. Because it’s not about The Mirror: it’s about The Frame.They arrive home at dinnertime. “Oh, I’m starving,” she says. It’s been a

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-58378886894448702062008-03-06T11:08:00.000-08:002008-03-06T11:25:44.858-08:00

This work of art adorns our bedroom wall: I call it simply, The Print.As we lay in bed gazing at it, our recurring conversation always goes like this:NANCY: Is that not gorgeous, or what?BILL: It’s one of the most beautiful and magical prints I’ve ever seen. Look at the detail in those linens!NANCY: I was talking about The Frame.BILL: Oh, that’s right. I forgot.THE FRAME: Yeah, baby!THE PRINT: *

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-45838395100083588852008-03-04T09:58:00.001-08:002008-03-04T09:58:46.638-08:00

This past Thursday, February 28th, my Dad passed away peacefully at home from complications due to Parkinson’s disease.Thank you so much to all of you who left Nancy and I notes of sympathy, encouragement, and love. I’ll respond to each of you as soon as I can. The responses from all of you, and from so many friends and relatives, was an incredible blessing. Although I can’t begin to imagine how

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-12076799144651342692008-02-26T07:05:00.000-08:002008-02-26T07:06:47.555-08:00

There is a simple way that each of us can offer others something invaluable: we can describe for them how they were invaluable to us. In other words, we can write them a Thank You Story.A Thank You Story is more than a thank you card, where we offer gratitude for something someone gave us, such as a wedding gift or a nice dinner.It’s even more than a note of tribute, where we express appreciation

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-86591710039668636972008-02-21T23:00:00.000-08:002008-02-26T07:17:20.492-08:00

I believe that what we want more than anything else is to be invaluable to others.Fortunately, there are so many ways that we can be. Sometimes, it’s what we give to someone. A mentor of mine got up very early every Sunday morning to give me his time and his life wisdom (plus a free breakfast). As a young married man, every meeting was priceless. I moved to another city 10 years ago, but I still

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-63164322654290188282008-02-21T00:42:00.000-08:002008-02-21T00:45:50.954-08:00

“What is it that you want more than anything else?”When we first hear this question, life’s pressing needs quickly holler out their votes with responses like, More money, or More time, or More of both. We zero in on what we want to have.But as the question settles below the urgent, we may give responses such as, Travel, or Find a relationship, or Spend more time with family. Our thoughts move

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-56977569776895040332008-02-20T00:56:00.000-08:002008-02-20T01:06:15.353-08:00

This is the very first Thank You Story I've received so far. It perfectly captures the essence of a Thank You Story. Thank you so much, Alicia!Dear Carmel,You took an awkward 6th grade girl who loved to make Barbie clothing, and inspired a seamstress. Sewing lessons at your house on Friday nights gave me the chance to learn the art of sewing, but it was also my place to be happy during the

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-2503158803142360192008-02-18T20:57:00.000-08:002008-02-28T06:47:44.521-08:00

Hello, blogger friends! Thank you so much for visiting. I want to tell you about a writing project I’m working on that I think will interest you. I’m gathering a collection of Thank You Stories. A Thank You Story is a thank you letter written to someone who’s had a life-changing impact on you. The letter tells the story of how your life has developed because of that impact.I plan to publish the

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-1899935928450308202008-02-17T21:26:00.000-08:002008-02-17T21:32:21.351-08:00

The last of the children’s voices fade as the hands on the oversized clock reach 3:30. Thank goodness, she tries not to think to herself at her desk, putting papers to be graded into her bag. Another Friday over, another week completed, she sighs, as she always does now. She stopped counting the days long ago. But she still wanders slowly through the classroom at the end of each one, picking up

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-79607585236759398672008-02-12T09:17:00.000-08:002008-02-21T23:36:06.624-08:00

I come into the kitchen. It’s bestrewn with items of all sorts.“Hi, Hon.” (Translation: What are you doing now?)“I’m making something,” she says, working away intently. “I got this idea I want to try.”“Ah, I see,” says I. (Translation: Uh, oh . . . )“I’ll be done in a second,” she adds.“No problem,” says I. (Translation: Yup: here we go.)And so the creative venture begins. And it doesn’t stop

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-57799369835229910242008-02-08T08:51:00.000-08:002009-10-25T13:26:34.401-07:00

Hi, All!OK, here it is:She Can’t Not Touch(the complete poem By Bill Burns ©)She can’t not touch, she can’t not touchMy wife, the artist all the time, just can’t not touchReplanting flowers ’cross our land, re-dooring each old hutchDon’t even ask about the drapes . . .She can’t not touchShe can’t not touch, just can’t not touchThat “lovely” from the yard sale hears, “It just needs such and such.A

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-27187587024330300942008-02-07T08:52:00.000-08:002009-10-25T13:27:31.610-07:00

Hello, All!I’m so sorry for being away from Blogland for so long. Thanks for all the kind (and humorous) responses to my last entries. I promise I’ll respond to each of you personally soon.I’ve been (happily) working on some urgent writing projects, but they have (unhappily) kept me away for too long.Here’s the first part of a new piece I’ll complete in the next few days:She Can’t Not Touch(a

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-68304222988063508502008-02-01T22:31:00.000-08:002008-02-01T23:25:38.260-08:00

Now cradling in his arm The Prize, the hand-picked, plastic-wrapped panties, her Prince strode proudly to his true love’s door, wondering only whether she would first throw her arms around him in a passionate embrace, or utter the three little words every prince lives to hear: “You duh MAN!”And so it was with great bewilderment that he watched the smile melt from her face, and saw her eyes move

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-11604461391879111292008-01-30T00:49:00.000-08:002008-01-29T22:38:22.984-08:00

And so, while our heroine flittered off with the other nobles to make final preparations for the big event, Her Prince stepped, for the first time, into the forbidden land of Intimate Apparel . . . looking for panties.In a moment he was surrounded by the strange, lifeless forms that grew there, a jungle-like morass, it seemed to him, of colors, textures and, uh, shapes. One of the local

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-71105133562440356302008-01-28T08:23:00.000-08:002008-01-28T08:26:41.914-08:00

La Belle Dame sans Merci by Sir Frank Dicksee As a young man engaged, every request for assistance from my true love was yet another opportunity to shine, another chance to be the white knight riding once again to the rescue, and I loved every moment.Except for the time she asked me to buy panties.It was the day of her roommate’s wedding. As both a bridesmaid and a roommate, Nancy had spent the

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-91200095560804902062008-01-24T08:54:00.000-08:002008-01-24T13:22:59.936-08:00

Photo from Carolyn Quartermaine RevealedI’ve always loved everything theater-ish:Cleverly designed set pieces and elaborate or simple costumesScripts ransacked with hastily scribbled notes from the director, and sheet music faded from exposure and smelling of lantern oilAnd a stage, indoors or out, magnificently set or bare and waiting…I used to think it was because I wanted to perform, but now

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-81281998147751987452008-01-22T09:24:00.000-08:002008-01-24T13:21:45.215-08:00

I’m continuing my study through the book Carolyn Quartermaine Revealed. Over the years, I’ve been taught various tricks for quickly gleaning the most important information from books. The goal is to get as much as you can, as fast as you can. It’s effective for certain topics. But with gorgeous art like this, you’ve just got to stop and stare at the roses. Yellow Rose Bouquet from Carolyn

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-53576253549536705292008-01-18T11:17:00.000-08:002008-01-22T22:42:45.673-08:00

The Best of All Ways . . .When Night stares the two of you in the face with the unspoken glare that means, “Go to bed!”, he’s usually right. Early to bed, early to rise is wise thinking. But there is another side to the Night, the hidden side, which you’re not really supposed to see. Like the revolving panel in the wall that leads to a secret chamber full of intrigue and mystery, if you can

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-21324177547377468392008-01-16T06:38:00.000-08:002008-01-16T14:20:14.980-08:00

My self-directed Design 101 adventure began today. The text book is Carolyn Quartermaine Revealed.I started looking at the first photos. They’re amazing. But then, like the child visiting the art gallery for the first time, I got distracted by something and wandered off from the group.Where I wandered was my own house. In the early morning hours, before the day’s tasks awoke to start their

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-52729093126329480322008-01-14T09:55:00.000-08:002008-01-14T10:20:36.633-08:00

Years ago, I read a story about a woman whose son was a chemist. She knew absolutely nothing about the subject herself. So she went to the local junior college and took a class, to learn to talk to her son about his passion.I’ve never forgotten that story. But it has taken me 17 years to apply it.So I’m beginning a new study program. I call it Design 101. I’m pulling out all my wife’s favorite

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-63465625415350799512008-01-10T21:14:00.000-08:002008-01-10T21:20:31.243-08:00

I used to think that preparing for a party was easy. You grab a few extra snacks at the grocery store, put away the laundry, and remember to vacuum. It was just a matter of adding some simple ornamentation, like wearing a green shirt to the office on St. Patrick’s Day.Not so for my wife. Picking up food and cleaning up the house are just preparing the stage for the set designer. Then the real

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-70800917000071564522008-01-10T06:00:00.000-08:002008-01-09T23:40:09.925-08:00

Having been abandoned by Logic (or at least my overly-practical view of it), I wondered if there was another way to understand my wife’s frequent room re-designs. I think I found one.For her, décor is not just about reacting to the season or the holiday, or the function of the room. It seems to be about expressing creatively what she’s feeling inside. Life and relationships are always changing

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-17646440458371900332008-01-09T06:00:00.000-08:002008-01-09T22:16:56.299-08:00

I’ve always understood setting up a room to look nice. On the 1st day of spring, it’s perfectly logical to turn the couch to face the newly blossoming garden, and to switch out the dark red drapes for the sunlight-softening sheer ones, and to put two more vases on the mantle, perfectly spaced, to display the long-awaited Double Delight roses from the front yard. Then my wife can stand back and

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-8168823978854582742008-01-08T00:29:00.001-08:002008-01-08T00:41:09.411-08:00

Recently, after writing out the latest round of good intentions for my life, I wondered about my relationship with my wife. We’re still each in love with our best friend, but after 17 years of marriage, there’s an awful lot that can inadvertently wind up on auto-pilot. I found myself asking, “OK, so really: what do you do with a wife?”Of course, I realized that what I was really asking was, “What

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452614200201031793.post-40410274626634512132008-01-07T06:00:00.000-08:002008-01-08T00:30:02.991-08:00

Welcome! Thanks for visiting. I hope you’ll take away something worthwhile, and maybe drop off something in return.One of the best bits of marital advice I ever got was at a bachelor party. A friend offered these four words to the groom-to-be: “Nurture her creative interests.” It hit me like a board. My wife is ceaselessly creative in so many ways, yet I usually just nod and say, “Oh, yeah. Nice.

Loving Her Beautifulhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03511821593034131433noreply@blogger.com9