Reinforcing Comma Placement. Being Educated On Angry Periods And Isn’t Being Right The Most Euphoric Feeling?

A text exchange with Lauren this past week had me confused for a minute but caused me to giggle:

I thought EXCLAMATION POINTS made me sound angry, but according to my oldest daughter, I was incorrect. She is not only the real police, she is also the grammar police so, I know she was being funny.


I have music playing on our Sonos system ‘throughout the inside and outside’ of our house from the moment I wake up until we sit down to watch the boob tube around 7:30-8pm.

Some days I’m all about John Mayer or Return Of The Mack Radio, but lately it’s been Chris Stapleton and whatever Pandora thinks relates to Chris Stapleton. Soulful country.

One day last week The Coach waltzed into my office while singing along with this oldie-but-goodie when he caught my attention at the second line.

The only two things in life that make it worth livin’
Is guitars that tune good and firm feelin’ women
I don’t need my name in the marquee lights
I got my song and I got you with me tonight
Maybe it’s time we got back to the basics of love

Waylon Jennings

Me: Hey, what if the women aren’t firm feeling any longer?

Coach: No, it’s Guitars that tune good AND firm, (comma) feeling women. The guitars are firm.

Me while giving side eye: And then he feels women? I don’t think so, let me look that up.

*Goes directly to the google machine for verification*

I said excitedly: WRONG!

Isn’t being RIGHT the best feeling in the world? I mean, if drug addicts felt right about things before trying drugs, they might never have traveled that path and instead tried to be RIGHT about things.

*I just made myself laugh*

Thank goodness I was right, but still, the only thing firm about me is my stance on recycling.

I love being married. You can literally annoy ONE special person for the duration of your life. Am I right or am I right?


*I just realized a FUN fact after listening to the entire song again: In the last line Waylon mentions “Jerry Jeff’s (Walker) Train Songs”; well we’re almost full semi not really circle because now, present day, we are friends with Jerry Jeff’s Son, Django. (yes, his real name)

Django Walker, Suz and Patrick Davis at a charity event the Coach put on in 2019. I was wearing wedges and yet I still look like a toddler next to them.

I know it was a stretch, but still I can’t help but see the significance of all of this. 😳

Anyone else get a bit smug when they’re right? How about angry looking punctuation? Is that new to you too?

XOXO

Don’t Confuse Your Love Language With My Love Language

I’ve never been shy about sharing that my husband is a kind and generous soul, but he might just get carried away at times. Especially when those times involve me.

Five months ago one of our lovely young employees became engaged. She’s a great person that goes above and beyond, so when she asked Coach to make some food for her wedding reception he said YES. I’ve blogged about his love for smoking meat and feeding a crowd before; it’s his love language.

{vegetarians look away!}

A random smoking event in our driveway from 2020; feeding the masses

He told me a month ago that He was going to cater the entire affair.

A few weeks later I asked some questions, you know, details, because the event was getting closer.

Me: How many people for Brooke’s reception? 30? 40?

Coach: Well it was 50, then 80 and now 120.

My eyeballs popped out of my head wondering who was going to help with this not-so-little shindig.

ME. It was to be me.

He had also enlisted our dear friends TW (who loves to cook), and his wife Mo.

FOUR non-caterers, catering.

The Coach and the bride put together a menu including three proteins, two salads, two vegetables, a starch, bread, iced tea, infused water and of course appetizers for the cocktail hour. (they did have a bar with a bartender that wasn’t one of us)

We shopped (& shopped) the two days prior. I would look at the receipts and think: I could have easily HIRED a caterer for the amount of money we spent and then I could have been a Guest. What a novelty.

Coach and I did prep work on Friday night and again Saturday morning, then we all met up at the venue at 2pm.

Note the cute bridesmaid in the burgundy dress sampling some food; she might share DNA with the caterers. 😉😜

I’m not really complaining because The Coach did the brunt of the work, but we all worked our biscuits off. Mo and I made 175 caprese skewers, we set up the chaffing dishes, tea and water, bread station and apps. (see my signs? I’m a PRO)

Mo and I ran all the food in and out and left the men in the kitchen, where they belong.

I wanted to take a photo of the buffet line, but by the time I had it all set up guests were showing up (rude) and I didn’t want to look unprofessional by taking pictures of my own work.

Ya’ll, we ain’t caterers, but we pulled it off beautifully. People raved. Our yelp page was on fire. 😳

I was personally asked at least six times what the name of our catering company was and I’m so mad I didn’t think of something sassy ahead of time. Like You Can’t Afford Us Catering. Or We Cook and Bitch. (only Mo and I were bitching; that’s our love language)

We arrived home at almost midnight and our feet were killing us.

Here’s the worst part. They only had 85 people show up, which is still A LOT. But it could have been much less food purchased and prepped.


We’re booked through December 2023.

One of our appetizers was Sausage Melts with Pico, but it was a version of Shit On A Shingle. Growing up we also referred to this as Pelican Turds. Have you had either?

I wanted to write one of the Inappropriate names on the little chalkboards but Coach poo-poo’ed my idea. Wait until he reads MY Yelp review.

XOXO

Time Alone And Planning For The Future By Compiling A List For My Possible Replacement.

The Coach had away games all weekend so I was solo. Lone. Single. Wait, I’m never really alone, am I? Lillie and Callie were here and Lillie follows my every move while I’m gardening, watching mindless TV, reading, performing laundry miracles and puzzling.

Callie has been going through some more health issues over the past few months and I honestly thought she would be gone by now; she’s very wobbly and was falling down a lot, but seems to have either recovered or just gotten used to it. The dog has 47 lives.

Her newest hobby aside from falling down is barking at nothing though the front or back glass doors. This of course alerts Lillie to also bark at nothing. My response at least 4x a day: Lillie, Senile Sally doesn’t know what she’s barking at, so why are you getting involved?

Leaving And Hating Chicken Wings

The Coach is SO busy with work. I mean, if people would stop wanting new kitchens, baths, and countertops for a little while I wouldn’t complain. I have several closets that have NO doors on them since August because the shop is just too busy for little old me. He’s also planning two large charity events over the next year for Veterans. And he’s added assisting the college with his hitting expertise to his already busy schedule. The daily practices. The traveling. The work. Oh my.

Just before he departed on Friday I said to him: Please, for the love of everything, don’t drive distracted. I know you have a lot going on, but if for some reason you don’t come home to me on Sunday, I will forever hate Softball.

Coach: that’s not nice or fair; what if you were driving to pick up chicken wings and you died, should I forever hate chicken wings?

Me: Yes. Clearly yes, that’s how it works.

Actually I was thinking: why would I ever drive somewhere to pick up greasy fried chicken wings. He must want me to die from high cholesterol.

I really don’t mind him going away for the weekends; he loves helping the kids and of course, they love him. We’re pretty independent people so neither of us mind time alone or apart. I think I spent so much of my childhood alone, I can easily entertain myself.

There’s probably some people who would give their left middle finger to have a weekend away from their spouse though. If something ever does happen to him, I think I’ll shop for a new husband at the Reservists office; they are gone one weekend a month. right?

I’M NOT DYING THIS WEEK BUT I WILL ONE DAY

I’ve thought of my mortality quite a bit the last few years. I mean, none of us are getting out of this alive. If for some reason I die before the Coach, I want him to find the best replacement for me. I know it will be a damn struggle, because I’ve set the bar so high.

*laughs uncontrollably*

You know when you’ve been with someone for 37 years, you evolve. You change. You have habits. You have habits that people who love you for 37 years don’t seem to mind. But I do wonder if some of those things that don’t bother me, might send a newbie running for the hills.

So, every once in a while I’ll chirp up and say in my nicest voice to the Coach:

I’m not saying this to be mean, but if I die and you start dating someone MAKE SURE DON’T DO THIS: *insert constructive criticism* because it might scare off a person who hasn’t learned all the wonderful parts of you.

So a list is being compiled. He said he will bring the list to his very first date so he doesn’t forget anything.

I’ve been trying hard for many years to keep this under wraps, but now it’s out there for everyone:

I’m the best wife ever.

Where’s my award?

My possible future replacement should send me a handwritten note in calligraphy on handmade paper and delivered by a white dove. ASAP.

So, spill the beans.

Do you dread time alone? Are you attached at the hip to your partner?

XOXO