Lady Lynda’s Take on the Enhancement of Jewelry for Fashion

Lady Lynda: How jewelry can enhance fashion and it doesn’t need to be fancy.

Hello darlings. Its me Lady Lynda expounding on my jewelry. A proper lady consistently wears proper jewelry to offset her sophisticated stylish outfits. I am no exception. I confess many of my necklaces are costume jewelry. You know darlings, just some fun adornments to spruce up my business casual outfits However there are some pieces that ar a cut above. While they are far from wha top of line, they are somewhat fancy. Some are made of semiprecious material. These include amethyst , turquoise and cultured pearls. By the way pearls and amber are the only gemstones that are made of biological material Pearla from specially cultured oysters and amber is from petrified wood going back as far as the period of dinosaurs. Who despite the views of creationists existed hundreds of millions of years ago.

This next necklace was originally made in Uganda. It was bought in Cherry Hill by my wonderful sister. And that she is. It was originally made by village women in that East African natiom. It is very colorful as are the natives there. It is so truly delightful that these dear primitive females can be so creative. It consists of irregular rounded shapes of olive green, crimson and pine green. It’s made up of specially treated lacquered paper. It looks like it was made of wood. Its length is 26 inches. I can’t even begin to imagine the dark continent of Africa with modern buildings, conveniences. Oh that would be impossible. Sacre blu. The lacquered paper sort of reminds me of that wonderful , sentimental poet Vachel Lindsey. Read he swallowed varnish. What a tragedy but I must say such a beautiful finish to such a creative poetic life.

That purple gem wasbought at a local flea market It certainly looks authentic. It is a beautiful cool purple color. It is 20 inches in length. I felt so proud of myself when I helped that flea market vendor. I am certain that I enriched her day. That feeling warmed my heart. And that’s a feeling that is so much better than heart burn.

Pearls. This was a real find. And I do exactly, literally a find. The fact is I found this piece laying in the street. It is of five irregularly shaped small pearls separated by gold filigree. What it was doing there I can only suppose. It is a strand of real pearls offset with gold between each pearl. Would you know on a different occasion I found a string of pearls that consisted of pears that were ball shaped and a quarter inch in size.

This shells necklace is a fun necklace I bought on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. Oh I certainly hope the store propriator wasn’t playing a shell game on me. I remember it was a few years ago. As the description implies it is of small half inches black and white shells. As far as I can tell they are in teir natural hues. seashells, Native American Turquoise. The middle looks somewhat like a silver belt buckle with a genuine gorgeous turquoise centerpiece. This I wear to religious Jewish services. I wore it to my sister’s Bats Mitzvah earlier in May 2011. She is in her early sixties. Yes she was an adult Bat Mitzvah girl. Finally she is a woman lol. I posted that she was a woman on her Facebook page Seriously I’m proud of her. Golden Star of David, Jewish Star, Mogen David. This I wore to my sibling’s Jewish “Finally I am a woman” celebration.

Lady Lynda ‘s patience is well paid.

Lady Lynda Reminesces.

Lady Lynda was now married. The self proclaimed etiquette expert wore her long sleeved flannel carnation pink night gown. The one with the jaunty lace trim. Seymour Toze’s wife languidly laid upon the divan celebrating the Diva that become since being married to her gentleman friend of quite a few decades. She deemed herself dearly fortunate to be finally wed to show shoe salesman, pedicurist, fashion photographer Seymour Toze. Lady Lynda loved the sound of her complete name Mrs Lynda Mae Hoffenfetter Toze The sound made her feel radiant. The once old maid sighed as sherecalled Her goosebumps she felt when Toze finally placed that wedding ring on her third finger, right hand.

It was such a genteel occasion at the Temple HaShem Synagogue. Lady Lynda quipped she knew her knocked at her heart. She was far beyond the years she could be knocked up. She delicately giggled at her humor.He looked so chivalrous in his black tuxedo, starched white shirt and stylish black tie. Rabbi and motivational speaker Hugh R. Good said wedding vows.

It seemed rather eloquent how he so offered his hand in hers in holy matrimony. What felicity she felt. At last they were legal. Now he could do with her much more than play with her ten pretties. He could be ravenous with her and she’d love every moment. Of course she would reciprocate too. Fair is fair she demurely chuckled.

Yes she sweetly laid on the divan waiting for her man. Lady Lynda needed not to wait very long. She liked that phrase very long. It conjured up delightful images of her man, Seymour Toze. Being that he was merely 5’7 she mused she wasn’t referring to his height. She could hardly wait. She emphasized hard…ly .

Seymour was coming any moment from his free lance fashion photography. As she pictured his debonair handsome form entering the bedroom she blushed ever so expectently as she eagerly waited for his entrance. Yes it would be so very hard to be patient. She was an Aries and that is the most impatient Star Sign. But she must be the essence of patience.

At last her husband Seymour Toze sauntered in into with a savoir faire that being married to the lady he loved could muster. Lady Lynda was more than ready for him. She was eager and comely. Waiting for him to come to her. At last her wish came true. The prepping for her etiquette tour was now put on hold.

Goodbye to La Cabronas *

Archive for October, 2011
PANTERA
Posted in site promotion on October 24, 2011| 1 Comment »
This is Auntie Carol, and Lord me, It is such a distress to get out little detective agency going. One does just not simply say I am a detective and can solve the crime, one must convince the client and there’s the rub. Why can’t they just believe it: we do not lack in sincerity nor deign I say it, “talent”. A sharp mind, a crime unwinds. Oh, heavens, the rhyming, again. It must be the stress. Oh, Lord, the cupboard is bare and I’m living on chocolate cherries. I do not dare tell Lady Lynda of she’d just spend a fortune on me and never ask for repayment. I’d have truffles, and canembert and cognac, all my favorite things. I have my pride. Yes, Indeed, I do. I am no fallacious floozy living off the charity of my beloved friends. And The Black Orchid, would be all wroth that I did not reveal my desperate and ignoble position. She would be sure to stock my cabinets to the grandest extent. And Wanda Lust would be over here right now cooking us a mess of grits, greens, and ham. Now, my mouth is watering and I’m looking at my cat, named Black Bastard, with avaricious eyes. No, damnit, I shall not resort to cooking my pets. He is so named for his predilection of sneaking out of the house and impregnating all the female cats in this blessed neighborhood. Such a scoundrel! Just like a man. Herman is away in Europe on a book tour, for his book entitled , Who Am I, Really. It is a smash success. I don’t want him to know I am not a success as well.

Oh, what do I hear the silvery sound of sleigh bells ringing. Oh, Ye Gads, It’s just the phone. Well, my friends ‘Tis the Season To Be Jolly’ . I am beside myself with joy. We have a case. It was Inspector, SlimyGut, from the police station. I feel I should inform you there’s an umlaut over the “u”. It’s the notorious “Cereal Killer” case, and he feels we are ideal for the job for we are both elderly ladies, gentile, and educated with a strong and viable knowledge of the late Emily Post’s Rules of Proper Etiquette. He believes we could more readily get into the mind of this horrid ne’er do well as he believes her to be an elderly woman. She is called the “Cereal Killer” because at the scene of each crime she leaves a box of Raison Bran with a butcher knife plunged into the box. It’s apparent to me that she must be a lady, as she cleans the entire house and tucks them neatly into bed with a copy of Emily Dickinson’s poems by the bed side before she departs. At least, she’s not low class like that horrible demon, Freddie Kruger. One wonders why he doesn’t get his teeth fixed. Alors, and heavens, no.

I called Lady Lynda, and she was having a contretemps with Seymour Toze, and being a lady, I did not as the reason why. A lady never pries, my Dears. Lynda came right over so I could explain the facts of the case and we could develop a profile for the perpetrator, or more simply, the murderess. I explained she was an educated woman of quality except for that one regrettable character flaw. These were the facts as we understood them. She was the “Cereal Killer” AKA “Serial Killer” and all twenty of the victims were prosperous, distinguished titans of industry awash in luxury and wealth.

“Oh my, a Fortune 500 party,” quipped Lady Lynda.

“Funny, but in poor taste, My Girl. In case they didn’t get any respect when they were alive: they should be respected in their untimely deaths.”

“Oh, my yes,” intoned Lady Lynda. “We are not jackals at the site of a kill.”
“No, we are most certainly not,” I affirmed.

I told her the mode of death was poison of an unknown variety and under the newly changed sheets and comforters, they were all in flagrante delecto” or as they say in the South, “nude as Jaybirds.” I told her I thought that it was evident that the murderess knew and cared for the men. The question is why would she do it. They were all of an age to play cards with death a la “The Seventh Seal.” Why kill men at deaths door, for heavens sake! Just wait it out. That would be the sensible thing to do. Lynda evinced the theory that it was a “crime passionale” and that the murderess was certainly not a sensible woman but a woman enraged. Furthermore, Lynda, with her brilliant criminal mind, contended that we had no proof it was a woman. Well, I countered that the lingering scent of Tea Rose and the gentile selection of literature, and the cleaning of the house sort of portended a woman. And they were all widowers. So they could not be homosexual.

“Have you never seen “Madame Butterfly” with Jeremy Irons. He didn’t even know his lover, Madame, was really a man. Let’s go through the credit card bills and see what they spent their money on and find out who their friends were and if all of them knew just one person. We’ll get all that from the police. That’s what we need from them,” replied Lady Lynda.

“We have all that, dear. And the police have pointed out that at various times throughout the men’s career’s they had all drawn out the sum of $5000 cash particularly around the holiday season, yet, at other times also, at one and three month intervals throughout their lives. This seems like visits from one very expensive call girl, to me,” I said.

GOODBYE TO LAS CABRONAS
Posted in site promotion, tagged psychos, rhyming, tramps on October 21, 2011| Leave a Comment »
Auntie Carol loved her girl’s Las Cabronas, but they had reached graduation age and were going out to find jobs, further education, and, in some cases, husbands, (men of valor). Some chose to tread the path of career girls, while other planned to follow the path of stay at home, wives and mothers. Auntie Carol prided herself on her guidance skills in the realm of wedded bliss.

“Dearest ones, a man is king of the household and ruler of the realm. Always put his needs before your own yet, darlings, be not a door mat. A man likes a little spice in his life. Be a good bed mate and do not develop “headaches” at inopportune times. Be a James Bond woman in the boudoir, and Betty Crocker in the kitchen. A woman who can make good crepes is a treasure indeed to a valiant steed. A little witticism for you girls.”

“Oh, very funny, Miz Carol. Ha. Ha. Who is this Betty Crocker, chick, anyway?” quipped LaLa.

“Just about the most successful homemaker of all time, Dear, “ she replied.

“Well, we don’t know who she is, hyde nor hair of her. A little witticism for you, Miz Carol,” retorted LaLa.

“Well, perhaps you girls know Rachel Ray, I deign to say,” replied Auntie Carol.

“You’re rhyming again, Mz. Carol. Francisco says only psychos go around rhyming,” intoned LaLa.

“I chose to ignore that little bit of misinformation, a faulty formation at my behest as you suggest.”

“Miz Carol, no offence, but sometimes we think you’re ‘phone ringing and nobody home’ or a bit looney. That’s not to say you aren’t right most of the time,” interjected Chiquita, holding her baby.

“Genius is always misunderstood, darlings,” said Auntie Carol, as she swiped one gloved hand across her forehead for emphasis. And she thought of the theme song of the movie “To Sir, With Love.” “He took me from crayons to perfume” and fancied her life story playing out on the silver screen. The title of the movie could be “Tramps Are Oft Misunderstood”.

“Oh, girls, we all have come so far. I, too, made the journey with you, every step of the way, from dejection and rebellion, being little hellions to optimism and self respect. Your souls I did not neglect. You are now ready to be wives and mothers, and career girls if it bemuses you. I say the role of mother and wife should still be the penultimate achievement of a woman’s life even if there’s strife. As in the song, ‘Nature Boy’, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love, and be loved in return.”

“Did Snoop Dog do that song, Miz Carol. Psych,” laughed LaLa. “We know you love us and only want the best for us, even more than our own mothers, most times. We love you, as well, Miz Carol, and Miz Lynda, too, ”said LaLa. “This is our last week with, and we’ll sure miss you, Miz Carol.”

“And I shall miss all your beauteous faces and I know you’re going places. Be daring and creative: be joyous and give. Never lack the courage to boldly live. Let life flow through you like a sieve. Oh, my precious girls. The days I have spent with were the finest in my life,” said Auntie Carol as her eyes filled with tears. The girls surrounded her and gave her hugs and tears fell like rain from the heavens.

In the month that followed Auntie Carol and Lady Lynda prepared for their next great adventure, The Primrose Agency specializing in “Murder, most foul” to quote Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and diamond thievery. Well, that and other precious jewels, and of course, they’d investigate “art theft”. They wanted to deal with a certain class of criminal, and not petty crimes like robbing convenience stores. That would just be too “mundane”. Basically, they wanted to study the minds of brilliant criminals and try to figure out where they went wrong, in the womb or in the crib. It was Nature vs. Nurture. They were not averse to studying, serial killers, though they kind of considered them, “low class” and closely related to pillaging insects like roaches, Neanderthals who had never developed a conscience.

“Do you think Heidnick would have become a serial killer if he had received a proper religious instruction or had ever been a boy scout?” queried Lady Lynda.

“That, I don’t know, Dear. He was certainly quite queer. But, I’m sworn to find out. That’s what I’m all about. He may have just been a rotten apple. With that I grapple,” replied Auntie Carol.

“You remember the movie, “The Bad Seed” with Patty Mccormick? It was a case of Nature not Nurture. She was a little murderess and she came from a lovely family. Just astounding. And please, stop rhyming, Dearest, it gives me the vapors,” said Lady Lynda, fanning herself with an Oriental fan.

“In me you instill the will to stop. I don’t know what comes over me: what in the world is this. I am remiss! I bite my tongue: I am undone. “

“You can’t really help it, can you, love. I guess I’ll just “have to screw my courage to the sticking post”, as Lady MacBeth said. “What courage you give me ancient star”. A little bon mot for you, Dear.”
“Oh, I love that quote Dear: though to hear you say it is surpassingly queer,” said Auntie Carol. And she quoted Invictus by A.E. Henley which, of course, rhymed.
“Dark is the night which falls upon me/ Black as the pit from pole to pole/ I thank whatever Gods there may be/ For my inconquerable soul.”

“I think that Gypsy, Tekla, cursed you. Do you think that Dearest Carol?”

“Hob knobbing with goblins and ghosts, you’re certainly the most. I’d have to be tipsy to believe in a gypsy!’ exclaimed Auntie Carol.

“Well, I’m not the one who told her to stick it wherein the sun doth not shineth. I swear I’ll start talking in Elizabethan English is you don’t stop, Carol. Just nod you dad gum head if you’ll see a therapist about this?” She put her gentle gloved hand over Auntie Carol’s Piquant mouth and stared her hard in the eyes. And that was how Auntie Carol acquired her therapist. And they went Boldly Forth Where No Dames Had Gone Before.

Written by CAROL ANN BOND
*cabronos is basically Spanish for Billy goat

Histats




Lady Lynda at last finds her niche

Lady Lynda Finds Her Niche

Lady Lynda forlornly thought of how she missed lecturing the young women of the charm school for wayward girls. She felt a tinge of melancholy thinking of how her learned words of wisdom would never be heard by those dear grateful young men of Mr. Pequots Reform School for Dastardly Bastards. She sighed as she pondered how her male charges , how some of them would always be bastards in the literal sense but they were now dastardly no more. Conversely the girls were now refined young women. Both grads were ready to take their place in the civilized world. She turned those bestial boys into if not perfect gentlemen, ready to be in polite society. It was a dim chance that the female students would ignorantly blather away at vulgar nonsense. Lady Lynda felt a warm feeling in the cockles of her heart. Her mood was decidedly blithe as she reflected on how her woman friend and her dramatically changed such unfortunate wretch’s lives so significantly for the better.

Auntie Carol’s faithful colleague was feeling a sense of emptiness in her life. Yes the student of both schools could get a bit unruly she admitted to herself. She recalled bemusedly the time when…The woman reluctantly remembered how it was a challenge to to put it mildly to gain their respect. It was like getting a Kosher Rabbi to eat a Ham and Cheese sandwich. In a way she couldn’t blame them as she tried to see how she and Auntie Carol were initially perceived from their perspective. Two dowdy fuddy duddy middle aged woman who if the girl’s vocabulary was sophisticated enough would of seen them as dowagers. Yet from her perspective, she was a lady and a sophisticated, cultured one at that.

Now it was up to her to somehow fill the void in her life. Yes there was of course Seymour but he was busy with his day job as a shoe salesman and pedicurist at the “Into Leather” shoe store. Plus his moonlighting as a freelance fashion photographer who specialized in taking photos of women in open toed spiked or stiletto heels. The woman reflecting back on her time with her students came to the conclusion that lecturing was her forte.

It was what she did best. Her time giving talks to the students of both of the schools proved that. She fondly recalled how they listened intensely to what ever she told them. Why else would they listen so closely? Perish the thought there could ever be any other explanation. It was like they were barbarous hordes before they slowly became civilized thanks to them listening to Auntie Carol and her gently guide, and sometimes when needed, chide them into how to behave in civilized society.

No more would they, especially the boys be baneful threats to society. Instead they would know their place and instead of looking bedraggled they would be the epitomy of ladylike and gentlemanly deportment. They would be belligerent no more. In place of belligerence there would be true respect for societal mores.

Lady Lynda lamented the times when she her colleague in arms, Auntie Carol experienced tough times trying to get through to the ruffians in each of the schools. She reflected how beleagered she was as she tried to teach them proper etiquette. Yet despite the troubles , eventually she and her partner did bequeath upon them the essential manners for polite society. Looking back Lady Lynda thought, bemused that if she can make these swaggering braggarts become civilized than she could do for virtually everybody. She found her niche. Her mission would be to lecture on the importance of proper manners.

Seymour Toze Shoe Salesman Pedi Cures

Seymour Toze loves his duties at the “Into Leather” shoe store. That is especially pedicure duties. That is because he is a connaissur of women’s feet. He especially likes Lady Lynda’s size 6 curvy, high arched feet. At least that’s how her podiatrist described them. They are so high , Seymour serenely reflects, only her heel and front part ever touch the floor. To Toze the way her feet make contact with the ground is a metaphor of how he feels about her and her soles. His soul soars into the sky like being carried by Hermes with his winged feet. The shoe store worker’s spirit is lifted off the ground like Lady Lynda’s feet are lifted off the floor.

Seymour is inspired by his lady love’s delicate feet. His strong desire is to pamper his female customer’s bottom apendages like a new mother pampers her babies soft warm skin. His motto and belief is his caring professional pedicures are good for the soles. He definitely isn’t balling any woman who wants a foot job from him. He loves doing footsies. It makes his heart go pitter patter the way he makes his lady clients feel being with him.

The man thinks to himself that his is a wonderful profession. A perfect fit for a man who adores toes at say the least. It never occurs him he needs to toe the line. Doing his line of work is to him, as stimulating as an invigorating foot rub. It is as wondrous as a relaxing jacuzzi soak. It is as sensual as a milk bath of the finest consistency, quality. But mostly it is a delightful way to keep the customers satisfied by getting to his clients literally from the ground up and then seeing from there.

A Special Luncheon by Carol Anne Bond

A Girl’s Luncheon
Posted in site promotion, tagged beautiful dreams, Carol Anne Bond Writer.
This is Auntie Carol and I must simply tell you of the excellent luncheon my new beau, Herman Sherman prepared for me and my most beloved Lady Lynda. For forty-three years I have followed God’s commandments, that is except for the one, “Go forth and multiply.” ALors, darlings nobody’s ,perfect. and I’ll find a reason to go on living somehow. How long have I waited for my prince/princess to come along. Before Herman or as he sometimes calls himself, Emma Enigma, I had given up hope and was going to dedicate my life to “good works” like the late Mother Therese. God bless her soul. That is not to say I could carry it that far. But close.

For those of you who have not followed our meanderings Herman Sherman & Emma Enigma, are two parts of the same person, a hermaphrodite I fell in love with. So much do I love hin/her I would lay down my very life for him. Most days Herman, the man courts me: other days I have the best female companion, a girl could want with the exception of Lady Lynda, my dear friend. More about Herman. He is gorgeous, simply divine with his violet, thick lashed eyes and flowing blue black long hair. A face a mother would die for and any young girl would swoon for like the old fashioned Errol Flynn or Lawrence Olivier, a dark handsomeness and beautiful as a girl or “Emma”. I have two, two mints in one, (a littte bon mot for you.) Sometimes I am tres comique. Innitially Lady Lynda had reservations saying he didn’t know whether he was coming or going and I assured her he was mentally stable though being two people. He’d have to be sane to be a licensed sex thearpist with a degree in abnormal psych from Penn. I have an interest in abnormal psych, and it kinds of turns me on for some reason. Don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t hurt a soul, but it’s just nice to have someone to talk with me about abnormal psychology, Scarcely human. I just have the gut level feeling I could have cured them with some good Christian virtues, home cooking, and the love of a good woman, moi. Oh, well water under the bridge. Now I have Herman/Emma.

Emma, dressed in an orange leather mini-skirt and diaphonous, see through blouse with black lace bra on her small breasts looked every bit the high fashion model. She was almost as beautiful as The Black Orchid but not quite. Oh, well, Quelle Domage.

Anyway, Emma cooked the entire meal as only a Cordon Bleu chef could. Pheasant under glass with wild rice stuffing and herbs, artichoke hearts in lime and olive oil, parslied potatoes, and tomato aspic (not my favorite.) She served us cabernet from France and we ate little dainty bite sized apple and cherry pies, baked by her own loving hands for desert. As she walked like a lioness from room to room with infinite grace she trailed behind the essence of Shalimar. I shan’t tell you what happened when we were alone in our bedroom later but I will say I am still pristine and saving myself for the wedding bed. Shall you guess whom I mean?

For all of Lady Lynda’s fears that I was dating a mad man, he/she dispelled all doubt, when he played our rhyming game, and fixed Lady Lynda with her most fetching smile.
some of our bon mots were: stalion eating a scallion, sublime lime, occasion for a Caucasion & the smile that stretched a mile. A main who can rhyme can commit no crime.

Oh, believe me we all had further witticisms too numerous to mention. We were a clever bunch. Then we discussed our favorite artists and writers. Names like Boticelli, Bosch, Breugel, La Treck, Van Gogh and others floated through the cool spring air like aerie ghosts. When it came to Nietche, we all agreed, dare I say, that he was an insufferable bastard and a totally evil. man. For, it is my contention that the world is run by Nietche, and that is not pleasant. Not pleasant at all. Alors! and heavens no!

But the long and the short of it is that my best friend now approved of my beau, and wished us well. I would have to do the same for Seymour Toze though I considered him a pervert. Well, nobody’s perfect, least of all, moi. Sherman carried me up the stairs to the bedroom as I was somewhat tipsey and I had beautiful dreams. Just beautiful. I was Cinderella at last.

CAROL ANN-writer of Poems of Thunder (Noir & Whimsy) @ BN.com, Amazon.com & publisheamerica.com
Numerous other books- need agents and’or publishers contact thru facebook, poetry, humor historical drma

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More of Lady Lynda’s Tips on how a Lady Behaves with her Mate.

Lady Lynda entered the classroom conservatively properly dressed in a brocade rose pink suit and matching cotton gloves. Hello dears, its once again Lady Lynda. I want to talk to you of a critically important topic. How a good dutiful wife behaves in a successful marriage. Oh please I deliberately did not use the word relationship. That word to me, indicates what some of us euphaemistically calls living together. I call it living in sin I’m getting the vapors just thinking about it. Please excuse me while I sit down before I faint. Okay now I feel much better. Please note, while Seymour Toze is my gentleman friend we each live in our separate domiciles.

Lets begin. Rule number one. Never make your husband feel inferior. For example you are offered a work position you know you’re qualified for. If you wind up making more money than your dear husband. No matter how much you want it, turn it down. His ego is worth more than any economic benefit to you. In fact a wife should be really remiss if she took any job. This would be blow to her husband’s fragile ego They may look, manly, muscular but underneath those muscles lays a mass of mush of insecurities Never ever post anything of this nature on any social media.

One more thing never ever say something that goes counter to what he is saying. You must never, ever contradict him. Especially when you are riding in the automobile with him. Whenever you get lost, please don’t ever suggest you pull up to the nearest gas station and ask for directions. It may be the womanly sensible thing to do but men aren’t sensible like us women. It is a cardinal rule that men never ever ask for directions. This is a fact that this is written in their DNA. Just accept this. To do so would surely hurt their fragile pride. Even if you get totally lost, you’d be completely rude to complain about your lovey (spouse) not inquiring how to get somewhere. It is much better for you two to wind up on some long winding road Besides you two are all alone. Use your imagination. Men may look tough but underneath they are quivering jellyfishes. It is up to the wife to consistently remember that.