Free Marriage Advice ~ Worth Every Penny

I love encouraging words. I find them everywhere: In fortune cookies, driving along the highway on billboards, in books, magazines, conversations and famous quotes. All you have to do is listen to each day with an open heart and you’ll hear that still small voice speaking to you through the most unexpected avenues. Take tonight for example.

I had a wonderfully witty post all ready to go, then Bob came home from work. From the moment the love of my life walked through the door, I had this unexplainable urge to smother him with a pillow. Don’t get me wrong, I truly love the guy. If you have followed this blog for more than a minute, you can attest to my seriously high mush level for the man. But sometimes, well sometimes, I just want to off him.

I am sure it is because there is something seriously psychologically wrong with me. There is no way it would have anything to do with the constant shadow behind me, picking lint off my clothes, asking me if I feel ok, chattering on and on about car engines and automotive oil and prostates or some such things. I am absolutely positive it has everything to do with me constantly moving the emotional lines in the relationship and being moody and not being able to ever take a joke. Yeah, that is definitely it. Not the lint picking.

Anyway, after an absolutely delightful evening together, I decided to place my previously prepared post on hold and instead look for wonderful, happy, completely uplifting and true quotes on marriage. After all, with the 34 years we have invested in this gig, it is our duty at the least to encourage the younger generations that marriage is sacred, holy and not to be taken lightly. So without further ado, please feel free to print this amazing post out, have it enlarged and framed and mounted prominently on your living room wall because, yeah, it’s that valuable.


“All marriages are happy. It's the living together afterward that causes all the trouble.” -Raymond Hull

My advice would be to skip purchasing a house and go for the condo option. They can even be next to each other. Let me know if you’d like my agent to contact you when she finishes my deal. You’re welcome.


"Marriage is an adventure, like going to war." -G. K. Chesterton

Adventure is good. Look what it did for Alice in Wonderland.


"It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.” -Rita Rudner

Of course, finding that one special person is only a small part of the equation. Practicing and then perfecting the art of annoying, now that, my friends, takes time and planning.


"The man who says his wife can't take a joke, forgets that she took him." -Oscar Wilde

Well said, Oscar. Well said.


When Ruth Graham, wife of Billy Graham, was once asked if she ever thought about divorce she said, “No, I've never thought of divorce in all these 35 years of marriage but I did think of murder a few times.”

God Bless Ruth Graham. A woman after my own heart.


That is all.

Bodily Fluids, Functions & Other Foolishness to Gross You Out

Come on, admit it. There is a blog somewhere out there taking bets on whether or not I would ever come out of this hospital alive. If I would have been able to prove my hypothesis, I would have definitely placed a bet of my own, believe you me. My grandmother died from a blocked bowel. Ok, it was 89 years ago but she’s still dead, y’all.

So, last Thursday, December 2nd, I worked a full day, made a grand dinner which I enjoyed with my family, cleaned up the mayhem they left behind then headed to our bedroom to enjoy a quiet evening with the Bobster. Once showered and snuggled into our comfy bed together, we did what we do almost every night. That’s right. Every. Single. Night. Oh, I can hear your jealous sniggering already. That’s right, we watched Star Trek, Bob started snoring before the Borg had a chance to assimilate the last victim and I grabbed my laptop to write. By the time I was to the grab my laptop stage last Thursday, I was a hurting unit. My gut was in knots and I could barely type. Ok, I can barely type normally but this was different. This was why do I want to drop to the floor and crawl around whimpering so bad I can’t type? After hours of bathroom runs, floor crawling, whimpering, getting back to the laptop, crawling into the bed just long enough to crawl back out of the bed then repeating the cycle again and again and again, I finally woke Bob up at 1:35am, Friday morning. Yes, as a matter of fact I do have an aversion to being sick and even under the imminent threat of death, I still choose to live in complete denial regarding the possibility there could be something wrong with me. Hey, don’t judge me unless your name is Judge Judy, Alex or Marilyn Milan. Ok, maybe I watched too much daytime TV in this place.

Anyway, once I woke Bob up and told him I thought I needed to go to the hospital, we were in the car in less than 5 minutes. Of course, I vacillated between crying out my last wishes and arguing there was nothing wrong with me on the 15 minute drive to Mercy. Once inside the ER, I was whisked into a room, quickly evaluated and then drugged to high heaven. No, seriously, I am pretty sure I saw Kurt Cobain. I seem to even remember having a deep and meaningful discussion about life and death with him. Well, it was either with him or the Cat in the Hat. It’s hard to sort it all out at this point.

"You should not be here, Kurt Cobain. You should not be about. You should not be here when our mother is out."

The next three days are a bit of a blur. I do remember some very lovely, young nurses coming into my room, shoving a rubber hose down my nose, through my throat and into my stomach. I also remember them telling me what a great patient I was, how they had never had the procedure go so well and how much they liked me and my family. I am pretty sure it was at that point that I smiled a drooly, crooked smile and thanked them, all the while thinking how differently they would feel when they one day realized I was a famous writer and would soon be composing a horror trilogy about beautiful, young nurses who take captive a rather overweight, middle-aged famous writer only to perform unspeakable atrocities upon her person whilst sing songing, “Up your nose with a rubber hose.” Oh yeah, I thought it.

Yes, I asked for my laptop, or so they say. Yes, I sat with fingers ready, or so they say. Yes, I was stoned out of my mind, eyes closed and never typed a single letter, or so they say. I'd like to see them try and prove any of it.

I also remember constant visits and phone calls from my children and grandchildren, including our son in the Navy. When I realized that the United States Navy had made special arrangements to put a call from Popeye’s ship all the way on the other side of sanity through to a hospital in Oklahoma City, I knew for sure I must be on my way out. All I could think at that point was, “I wish I had finished the laundry and cleaned out my office better. Oh well.” Oh yeah, and how much I loved God, my family and blogging. Whatever! I was dying people.

Oh sure, I look like the picture of health in my red Christmas jammies but I was on the brink. I could hear angels singing. Ok, maybe that was me snoring but I was still on the precipice people.

Finally, Sunday night when they dragged the rubber hose back out my nose,…now that is an experience you sure don’t want to miss…I knew I was on the right side of the bright light. Speaking of bright lights, some people might need to have it explained to them that when a person, like say, their wife, is laying in a hospital bed dying with a rubber hose up their nose, it really isn’t that funny to turn lights on and off behind the bed and ask the hosed spouse if they can see the light. I’m just saying.

There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like...

Anywho, here I am sitting in my hospital bed, coherently drinking a caramel macchiato and typing away on my laptop. Cat scans, upper and lower GIs, blood work and other bodily invasions behind me. Behind me. Get it? Nevermind. There are more tests scheduled for next week . Something about lesions on my liver. Sounds like a country drinking song to me but whatever, I’ll play along. Soon Bob will be here and I will be headed home. You know the first thing I plan on doing when I get there? The laundry and cleaning my office. Right after I thank God for my family and friends.

Poor little stoner. You seemed so normal one time long ago. Or not.

PS…Molly is a little, skinny liar. I did not cry when she read all your comments to me. I had a rubber hose up my nose people. It would make your eyes water too.



Free at last!

Molly here, Marla's favorite daughter-in-law. Ha ha, Amy and Tori! I only get to say that because I'm the one writing and you can't stop me! I'm blogging this afternoon to update everyone on Marla's condition. She is still hanging in there, enduring what is becoming a lengthy hospital stay. She hasn't complained once, but I know it's driving her crazy having to lay in that bed and be still. Resting and staying put is not something she does well. At any given time you can find her up and around, waiting on everyone hand and foot. She is always doing, always giving, always loving. She is both the life and heart of every party. And she has a gift of making every day a celebration. I'm not kidding. My family and I have been living with her and Bob since July. Yes, those blogs she wrote about the chaos in her house...we heavily contribute to it daily. I am also the one she claims said that I felt like I was in a Mexican prison. Let me just take this opportunity to set the record straight, I have no recollection of saying that. Maybe she was on pain medication then too....hmmmm, makes me wonder. Marla, when you read this later, after the drugs have worn off and you are back to your wonderful self, remember you asked me to write this...and show mercy! =) Anyway, back to what I was saying. She makes every day special. Dinner time is a party just about every night. Even when it appears to me that the fridge is empty, the cupboards are bare, and the only thing to do for dinner is go out to eat, she comes into the kitchen and within half an hour has prepared a feast! It is amazing! I really miss that when she's gone. Mostly because all of a sudden everyone starts looking at me to produce the same miracle she does everynight. Only, I don't have the superpowers she does. When everyone has settled down to the table and takes a look around at what I have prepared Bob never fails to say what everyone is thinking..."(sigh) I sure wish Marla was home." Me too, Bob. Me too.

All kidding aside, she is doing very well. The nurse just came in and removed the tube from her stomach. She is free at last! She looks like she feels better already! If all goes well she will be out of here in no time! Please keep praying for her. It means so very much. When I told her that you were all praying for her, she got tears in her eyes. She truly loves you all. Thank you for loving her in this way. God is listening! Someone must have prayed for her comfort and ours because thanks to Joel (another one of us lucky ones who married into the family) we just got moved to a suite! It's awesome! More like a nice hotel room than a sterile hospital room! So thanks to whoever prayed for that! =) Anyway, one of us will continue to keep everyone updated until she can resume her job of delighting us all with her thoughts! Until then...

No Rest for the Wicked

This is Marla’s middle, and might I say most loyal daughter ,Bel, blogging for her tonight. For the last two days she was admitted to Mercy Hospital for a bowel obstruction. They also found 2 lesions on her liver. Because of all the pain medication she is unable to blog now, let alone keep her eyes open. A decision on surgery will be made in the next few days. Knowing that this wasn’t life threatening was a comfort. I just knew I would be able to go in her room like a breeze and with a smile on my face, bring a little comfort…I was wrong. To see my mom who is so strong in spirit and quick to take care of everyone and everything, now knocked off her feet, left me speechless. Her eyes were constantly rolling back into her head trying to carry conversation, as she kept repeating how horrible her head and throat hurt. As my Dad, Miranda and I were in the room with her, we kept looking at each other trying to hide the tears from her, that kept watering up inside of us. We know this won’t keep her down but there’s nothing anyone can do take her pain away. Until then keep her in your prayers, and for anyone who doesn‘t pray much, ask God to show his power and heal her body, that he would bring comfort and rest to her….actually, scratch that thought…it sounds like a prayer you’d send someone to the grave with. So in your own words, from your heart, talk to God on her behalf- for his healing hand  over her entire body and that you might soon enjoy her devious and yet very entertaining thoughts and feelings on life that we so crave to read.


P.S. If your wondering why the title doesn’t match my words it because I had no thoughts so decided to ask my overly sedated mother…hence her view point and mine not :)

Death and A Holiday Giveaway By Harley

Can you believe it is already December 1st? Time sure flies when you are old and closer to death than ever before in your life. Speaking of death, I had the most interesting conversation with one of my three year old granddaughters yesterday. Ahni and Corina spent the day with me yesterday because of strep throat, pink eye and boogers. Theirs not mine. Anyway, since the school and daycare both have these crazy rules about no sick kids welcome, the girls got stuck with me for the day. I think, in all truth, they were pretty happy to hang out with their Nona. I can be quite entertaining at times.

Ahni the Strep Throat Kid and her side kick, Corina the Booger Head

So, we had some homemade chicken noodle and veggie soup which even picky eater Bob said was extremely delicious. Ok, he didn’t say extremely delicious but he did say something about it being good.

Booger Head and Mr. Picky Pants. Aren't they cute?

Anyway, the girls ate and chatted with us even though they were not feeling all that well. After lunch, while I was cleaning up the kitchen, Corina, the three year old, came up to me and had lots to talk about.



“Nona, I want to die when you die.”

“Um…what?”

"When people get old they die and then I would miss you so I want to die when you die.”

“Well, I am not old and won’t be dying any time soon so you don’t have to worry about dying, Reenie.”

“Well, grandpa died and so when you and me die we get to see him again and that will be fun.”

“ Well, that’s true. I still think I want to live a bit longer if that’s ok with you.”

“Yeah but when we die we get to see God and my teacher says He’s a nice guy so that will be fun.”

“You know what would be fun right now? Cookies!”

Seriously, these deep thinking three year olds scare me.

Anyway, let me tell you about a giveaway that Butts and Ashes is hosting and just in time for the holidays to boot. The good folks over at CSN Stores have offered to give one of my readers a $45 gift code good towards anything offered in their more than 200 stores. Looking to update your bathroom cabinets before the in-laws come over for the holidays? They’ve got you covered. Need a beanbag, bar stool or bedspread? CSN Stores has them. Desperate for one last toy to go under the tree? You’ll find it at CSN and at a price that makes sense. Check them out for yourselves.



So how do you go about entering this fabulous giveaway and what does Harley have to do with it anyway and why am I so constantly long-winded instead of getting to the point? Glad you asked.



To enter the contest all you have to do is tell me your family’s favorite Christmas tradition. Something that sets your family apart from all the rest. Come on, spill the beans. Go on, I’m waiting.



The winner will be hand chosen by Harley himself. Ok, actually the winner will be beak chosen. That’s right, Harley the amazing African Grey will pick the winning name from a bowl, or something like that. I’ll even take a video of it for you to make sure he doesn’t cheat.

Harley, the Amazing African Grey

As for the long-windedness part: It’s a gift.

Marla, the Amazing Long-Winded Woman

Oh yeah, a few last things:

• Contest is open to those living in the U.S. and Canada.
• Last day to enter is December 7th.
• Why are you still reading this. Comment already, will ya?

~ Happy Thanksgiving ~

We had the best Thanksgiving this year. I didn’t cook a turkey, bake a pie or candy a single yam. There was no linen, china or crystal on our table. The fireplace had no fire, the wine remained in the cabinet and no family or friends showed up at our door. It would have been a shame if they had because we weren’t home.

We left at nine this morning and headed over to the City Rescue Mission where our girl Amy had signed us up to have Thanksgiving dinner with the homeless. We arrived at ten, decorated the table that had been reserved for our family and then waited for our four guests to arrive.

Miranda, Cavan, Amy and Hannah waiting for our guests

Our girls, Bel and Hannah getting excited

Nona and Hannah discussing seating arrangements

Finally, Bob and Bel saw our guests arriving

Meeting Laura and her family was absolutely lovely. They are wonderful people and we look forward to seeing them again sometime soon.




We also met Jeff. He and my husband Bob spent the entire three hours they were together talking military. Jeff is ex-Navy and with two of our sons in the military, that gave Bob all the incentive he needed to talk for hours.

Hannah was yelling for more pie for Jeff. She kept giving him hugs and I think it broke his heart a little.

Tonight, I am thankful ~

For friends and family that love and support me.

For food and clothes and a home.

For our jobs and the money they provide.

For having more than I need or deserve.

Life is good and I am thankful.

~ Happy Thanksgiving ~

What About Bob?

My husband and I have a wonderfully strange relationship. We are best friends, partners in crime, kissy face huggy bear pals, and all the rest that goes along with having a pretty darn good marriage for the last 34 years. One of the things I noticed lately is the way we converse with one another. It seems maybe a bit less than normal when compared to some of our family and friends. Then I realized, this is our normal.

They look so normal and yet...

“Bob, why do you put the trash bags on the can so tight? I can never get the dang things off without fighting my way through the entire stinking process. You know I’m the weaker vessel.”

“Whatever! I use to believe that weaker vessel crap but not anymore.”

“Smart man.”



Then there are the constant jokes. Every day. Constantly. All the time. For the last 38 years. With promise of at least another 38 years. Jesus, Mary and Joseph pray for me.

I dig your pink guitar, Baby. No really. It's so, so, so, YOU!

“♪♪ Wasting away again in MarlaRitaville. Looking for my lost shaker of fart. Some people say that there’s a woman to blame but I know, it’s my darn wife’s fault ♪♪ . You know, honey, there is something seriously wrong with me.”

“Yes, I believe there is, Bob.”


I hate to even bring up this next Bob subject. I really do but in the hopes of possibly helping someone else out there, I will share this piece of our life. My darling, my sweetheart, my luvah, has the worst sense of timing when it comes to certain things. I am not going to say what things specifically but let’s just say, “things”. For instance, Bob is on vacation right now which means he is here. All. The. Time.



Constantly.

All. The. Time.

“Hey Baby. Wanna snuggle? Hehehe”

“Wow! That is a great idea. Tell ya what, as soon as I get the 5 loads of laundry sorted and started, something taken out for dinner, the grandkids in front of a movie, the horses, pig, chickens, dogs, cats, geese and Harley fed and watered, the bills paid and Ebay listed for the day, I will be all about snuggling with you. It's all about you, baby.”

“Awesome. Thanks for always putting me first, darlin.”

“Smart alec.”



Anyway, I noticed something else lately. When I post things about my husband, there are some of you that actually feel sorry for him. You leave me comments or send me emails saying you are worried about him or how hard it must be for the old man to be married to me. Stuff like that. I want to thank you for taking the time to look out for the guy and for giving me a good laugh along your worry journey. So, I was thinking maybe I would turn this little old blog over to the man himself. You know, to defend himself, defend my honor (oops! too late for that) and other nonsense. So here is your chance. Send me your questions and I will interview the man, the myth, the legend in his own mind, the white guy extraordinaire, Mr. Robert E. Hansen.

Mr. and Mrs. White Guy