Nirvana

Nirvana
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts

Monday, July 31, 2017

Manpreciation ~ Southern Style

I get a lot of questions about my sense of style and my cooking. These have come from my love of everything southern. I adore the south and all its romance and have embraced it as part of who I am. 

Fern would tell you I'm not southern. She’s wrong. I may have been raised in the midwest but it was a southerly county into which I was born. And I currently reside in Florida so I am indeed southern. (I'm even using the Georgia font. Doesn't get more southern than that.)

I also get asked questions about my ways in making a man feel like a man. So, today, I'll share a few manpreciation tips.

Darlin’, let me tell ya . . . there is no one better than a southern gal at making a man feel appreciated. 

Case in point. Scarlet O'Hara (at the beginning -- no, the middle because Ashley was just foolish and Rhett went insane when he left her. But Rhett was passionately besotted before he lost his senses.)

A southern lady knows how to be soft. Like a juicy Georgia peach. And bonus points for being soft yet not melting like butter on a mound of my homemade mashed sweet potatoes with brown sugar and pecans. Not PEECANS but Peckans. This is important, Ladies.

Back to manpreciation. You see, one of the secrets I've discovered is that a man likes a woman who swoons. This, my dear friends, is EASY to do in the inferno of summer. I've swooned so hard, seemingly over a muscular bicep that I nearly needed smelling salts. However, as much as this impressed the gentleman in question, it wasn't his physique at all, merely a wee bit of dehydration and a sudden rise from the overstuffed couch. I grabbed his bicep, commented on his strength and wilted like an end of the season peony. Mercy. Don't risk your lives on this one, subtle is fine. Just make him aware you think he's strong. 

Fluttering. This cannot be stressed enough. And this too, is easy to accomplish with the summer heat. Simply keep those eyes a blinkin’. Not only can you create a small, focused breeze but you can also create interest level from across the room, especially if you add a tiny peek at a gentleman and a gentle half smile. Men LOVE this. 

Of course the accent can make anything sound charmin, darlin. Try a few insults and see what I mean . . .
"Oh, what an intuhrestun chil’. I'll jus bet his papa is quite a man." I'm not sure if I'm insulting the child, the man or the woman's taste—but neither is she. She's just basking in the glow of slow molasses conversation style of the south.

Another favorite of mine . . . "Well, aren't you precious?"
Now this sounds like a compliment and can be sincere but a southern lady knows how to sugar up sarcasm. Moral of this story: if you can make an insult as delectable as pecan bars, then imagine the deliciousness of flirting. Be still my heart. 

Finally, the south has given its ladies a demure reputation. You can be spicy with your girlfriends and as innocent as a freshly washed lamb when you meet up with your beau. A man is just compelled to open doors and bend gallantly at the waist to plant a sweet kiss on the back of a lady's hand. Even if she could karate flip him right over her shoulder and make him cry for his mama. 

Add the smile, the hair toss, a few bows and some lace, and the man you want will be putty. As malleable as taffy in July. Want a proposal and he seems stubborn? A well-timed pout can do the trick. Now, this is a weapon and must be used with care. Overuse can build up his immunity. The best pouting technique is to take his hand, look him in the eye and smile, a sad little smile that doesn't reach your cheeks. And add a quiet sigh and an immediate Pollyanna upsweep of attitude to leave him a little tweaked about maybe hurting your delicate heart. 

A pout done well is an epic thing. 

And make sure you send me the photo of your ring and your wedding.

Monday, January 16, 2017

It's Coming! I Just FEEL It!

Bobbykins is this close to asking for my hand. It's written all over his face. Fern says that's indigestion because I keep feeding him too spicy food. I'm working toward building his tolerance to spice. And he appreciates it. 

Most of the time. 



How I know he's going to pop the question:

1) His eyes fill with tears sometimes when he looks at me. (No, again, it's not the spice, Fern. Nor is it an allergy to Fifi as you have so kindly pointed out. Or that he might be contemplating moving or any of the other reasons you keep ferrettng out.)

2) He has so many pet names for me. Sugar Lips. Sigh I love that one. Sweet Muffin. Cookie. Cuddle Bug. Sweetums. Oh, goodness. There are so many. And they melt my heart into a puddle of love pudding. Oh, Bobohunk, what a man! 

3) Future plans are being made. He asked me to go to the big truck show thingy in the spring. I'm soooooooooo excited!!!! I've already made little flag earrings with a scarf to match. Which I think they must use like in car races. Right? Don't tell me if I'm not because I don't want to change things up. I found checkered flag style leggings! And these stilettos. Queen of cuteness. I think it's possible the proposal will happen right there. I'm going to make a bracelet with little traffic signals with the stop lights all on green for Go! Go! Go! and Go! means YES! YES! YES! 

I'm thinking a fall wedding. Why wait? Right? At our age we shouldn't have a long engagement. Plus I scored some beautiful Zinnia and Mum blossoms in fall gold, scarlet and orange that are to die for on super clearance. 90% off. And gold ribbon that was in the Halloween clearance area that had copper pumpkins like little polka dots all over it. I'm picturing so many beautiful ideas. I'll sketch some up for you and share them once the BIG EVENT happens. 

Hmmmm. I might slip out to the hardware store in town. I heard they still have white Christmas lights there. For a song. And you know I've got some songs. Hahahahaaaaaa So tootles for now. 

Monday, November 28, 2016

Waking from the Food Coma?

So full. Are you? 

Goodness. I made such a feast. 

For Fern and me. Bob had other plans. I'm not pouting. But I will remind him as often as I feel it is appropriate to do so that he was not with me on the glorious holiday that celebrates food. And my cooking. He loves my cooking. 

I will describe in great detail the golden hue on the butter topped flaky buns and how they smelled like yeasty heaven come down when the oven released their delicious aroma. And how the stuffing I made tasted of fresh sage, celery and hickory nuts with the tiniest slivers of roasted garlic. And my pumpkin pie with the home crafted cloud of whipped cream melted in my mouth. The brown sugar glazed pecans  adding just the texture needed to complete the bite. 

Yes. 

I will tell him. 

He spent Thanksgiving in a restaurant. Have you ever? 

But, on a positive note I did get Fern to read this article and agree that she doesn't want to be a cat in the Lord's kingdom. I think she is warming to Fifi, finally. 


Monday, November 21, 2016

OOOOhhhh Moonstruck!

I missed the Super Moon. 

I didn't miss it, miss it. But Bobbykins was out of town for a few days. And when he returned to Paradise he was laid up with back issues. Those long car trips are rough on him. 

While others were gazing into each others' eyes and whispering sweet nothings including proposals of marriage while the huge moon crept out of the horizon and into the sky I was serving chicken noodle soup and changing out ice packs. I did make this recipe. You have to go to the lady's blog to get it. One of the writer sent it in and FORGOT to tell everyone that it's my recipe. Oh. They have a book giveaway, too. 

Anyhoo!!!! I pointed the moon out once or five times to Bob. Even suggested we try to sit outside for a bit. He grunted. I'm sure there was love and maybe a little awe in those grunts, but that's all I got. 

So I had to live vicariously through pictures. 

Have you seen some of them? Ooooh baby, that was one huge moon. 

While looking at pictures I found out some facts, too. (Don't worry, even though I saw it on Facebook I'm sure it's accurate. They said it came from Scientific American.)  

Dogs are more likely to end up in the emergency room. I hugged Fifi extra tight after reading that fact. Shudder. I had her out and about with me, coming and going. The little thing probably has post dramatic stress issues because of the whole murder fiasco and near death of her mommies. Oh, gracious. I'm so glad I missed this fact before the moon or I would have had her on lock down, behind Fern's closed door where there is literally nothing she could hurt herself with. Fern has a desk and a bedside table and nothing on the walls. Or surfaces. It's worse than a hotel. At least hotels have colors. Not Fern. Fifi would have definitely gotten post dramatic distress from that. 

One of the other facts. Plants grow better during full moons. Woot! Woot! The garden club meets in my garden the day after tomorrow. That means I'm going to be full flower. So I can still claim something wonderful from that big old moon.  

Gotta go take care of the Bobbis. He's feeling better but still needs a little TLC. And I like to call it ZLC cuz with Zula on the move Loving Care is off the charts. Full super moon TLC. Now just to freshen up and sprinkle that extra cinnamon love on those muffins. The man is going to be moonstruck without the benefit of Super Moon. 

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Romance. Pitter, Patter, Heart!!!

💖💖💖 Oooooh, I just love romantic stories. Be still my heart. My Bobbykins made me a tape or ddd or whatever those things are called of my favorite romantic movies scenes. Now I can stick it in our player or use my computer to swoon for six whole hours if I want. One of my favorites is Return to Me when he rides up on the bike with the nun sitting on the handle bars and he tells Grace how much he loves her. 

Ooooohhh and that movie is full of Frank Sinatra. Flutter. Flutter little heart. ðŸ’–💖💖

I like to take the little lap computer into the kitchen and just play the thing while I cook. When I look up I can swoon, swoon, swoon while I stir, stir, stir. I think Bob is a smart man. He just loves my cooking and he has found the way to inspire me. I come up with some creative concoctions while I'm dreaming of love. 💖💖💖 

💖One of the writers has a romantic story she shared. You can see it here. And she's giving a book away, too!!!!