Sometimes It’s Diamonds, Sometimes It’s Paint 💕, A Love Story…..Story #5

Finally, the day for lovers and my 5th and last story for the occasion. Happy Valentine’s Day and think about the idea I’ve offered here

Honestly, it’s never diamonds. Perfume, maybe, but not diamonds. Oh, there was a diamond engagement years ago and another one at our 25th, but that ‘streak’ ended there, years ago. Nowadays, prudence, practicality and pocketbook influence my choices..

So, this Valentine’s Day I gave a gift that satisfied all three criteria, the gift of color. I painted a bathroom for my wife, and, not surprisingly, it was one of the best gifts I’ve given over the years. She raved about it and appreciated my work and the new look. As pleasant as that sounds, it’s an unflattering commentary on my gift giving skills. I’m terrible at it.

However, I’m a good painter, it’s in the genes. My immigrant grandfather established himself as a ‘master’ painter. He begot three boys who continued the trade. The line of succession produced more sons, yet, who donned the white overalls, joined the union and called themselves ‘journeymen’.

You see, while ‘diamonds are forever’ (who wears out a diamond?), paint jobs are actually meant to be replaced. Colors fade or fall out of fashion. The painter gets the opportunity to ‘regive’ the paint job, a ‘do over’, if you will.

“Hey, honey, I repainted the bathroom. How’s it look? And, Happy Mother’s Day!”

“Looks great, dinner is ready”, she shouts from afar. “You slug…”, is the unspoken word you don’t hear because she has resigned herself to the age-old mantra, ‘it’s the thought that counts’. But we all know this about marriage, ‘what you do or don’t do now will be used against you later’.

As I was reminded recently, disagreements, arguments and shortcomings are all part of the bonding process in marriage, no matter how long the union, decades in our case.

But, I digress. There are more gift giving opportunities on the horizon. The bedroom sounds appropriate for our wedding anniversary. And the hallways for her birthday. Oh, I just know she’ll love it. Everyday will seem like a birthday as she walks through the house, admiring the colors, reminding her of just how old she is. Hmm, I should rethink that one. Then there’s Christmas, maybe a brightening up of the guest room would be a hit.

Yes, diamonds are pretty; pretty impressive and pretty expensive. So, gentlemen, heed my advice. When the time comes, give the gift that is bold and beautiful, that tells her how much you love her. Give the ‘gift that keeps on giving’ and is cheap, the gift of color…PAINT SOMETHING!

Steve

Originally February 2016

Love On The Sidewalk 💕…Story #3

This is the third story that I previously wrote about love. Appropriate to repost now as we approach Valentine’s Day. Enjoy!

It happened in a most awkward way, as love is wont to do. A thrown kiss, a wink, a wave and a look of expectation that it would be returned. But I would have none of it.

Alas, my misguided ego momentarily led me to believe that I was the target of the young gentleman’s affection, when, in actuality, I was caught in a crossfire, a crossfire of love, playing out on the sidewalk of my favorite coffee shop in the town center.

But it was over as quickly as it happened. The February breeze carried the romantic gesture past me to the attractive young woman at my back, the target of his affection. Her reply mirrored his, lovingly thrown back. I stepped aside and let it pass, unbroken.

Not a word was spoken between them but it was obvious by their flirtatious comportment, this was unabashed love, love on the sidewalk. And it was on display for anyone to see. I saw it because I’m an observer of people, especially those who blow kisses my way, albeit, inadvertently.

It’s winter in western New York and with that comes a string of cold temperatures and depressing cloudy skies. It can be overbearing. Today, however, the air was warmer, the sun was filling the sky and moods changed. Gaiety filled the air. And there was love, love on the sidewalk.

The humorist in me wanted to ask if the kisses were meant for me, but I bit my tongue and held back. Why spoil a good street performance with a silly annoyance.

Valentine’s Day is upon us. Love sightings will abound. Will you observe them?

Happy Valentine’s Day to lovers everywhere…

Steve (Feb 14, 2023)

Love On The Veranda 💕…Story #2

This is the second story that I previously wrote about love. Appropriate to repost now as we approach Valentine’s Day. Enjoy!

“Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.” Shakespeare

With the kids safely aboard, the crossing arm retracted and the flashing red lights turned off, the school bus pulled away from the curb, leaving the young parents in a wake of noisy fumes. A quick wave, one that likely wouldn’t be seen as youngsters are in their own element once aboard, signaled the end of one phase of their day and the start of the next, the work day.

They turned and walked hand-in-hand up the inclined drive, stopping for a moment on the veranda before heading off separately, he to his car and she inside the house for some final to-do’s before going to work, herself, I imagine.

At that moment before separating, in a somewhat theatrical move that belied its spontaneity, they embraced. Their arms wrapped around each other, her back arched under his guidance, and he bent to kiss her. Her leg lifted slightly, reminiscent of the iconic photo of a sailor and nurse in Times Square at the end of WWII. It was a brief but beautiful interlude of love, love on the veranda

I’m not a snoop, nor nosy. I tend to my own business. However, I do enjoy the art of ‘observing’ people, an engaging pastime for anyone, especially for a retiree relaxing with a morning cup of coffee while peering out a picture window at the comings and goings of neighbors and street traffic.

Observing, not snooping!

And, there was no doubt that what I observed was love. The look, his strong yet gentle embrace, her arched back, the raised leg and the kiss. There was no effort to be discreet. And why should there be, it was love, pure and innocent love.

Witnessing moments of love is very satisfying, you must agree. It’s refreshing to see feelings shared between two people, lovers. They have found the formula that binds their hearts forever.

Young people are more apt to display affection openly, with touching and kissing. Older folks seem to do it more with their eyes, a loving glance, a simple touch , discreet moves that the other party understands. As they aged, themselves, my folks displayed love with hugs, kind words, a certain attentiveness.

If you’re an observer, too, be on the lookout for uplifting moments of love. Have one yourself with your lover. The human spirit needs it, love, that is.

I wonder if ‘my’ couple knows they were seen? Shall I tell them? Would it matter?

Steve B,

To lovers everywhere…

They Closed The Old ‘Ballpark’, Today…

The ‘boys’ came to play…

…but this time would be different.

Today would be their last game at the old ‘ballpark’, the grand finale, the wrap up, the capper. It’s time to move on to a bigger ‘ballpark’.

A bit melancholic, maybe, but Life is like that. Today’s celebration becomes tomorrow’s remembrance.

It didn’t matter that snow covered the field for this final game, it had to be played. They were paying homage to the field, itself, a patch of lawn where two young boys learned the finer points of baseball from their coach, a devoted dad who used the sport to teach his sons lessons about growing up, getting along and having fun.

Over summers, I spectated from the third base side, separated from the action by the street that divided our neighborhood, west and east, witnessing the growth of the ‘team’ from young boys first learning how to swing a bat to baseball fanatics becoming ‘sluggers at the plate’, albeit still youngsters.

Some epic games were played here, high scoring events, very high, as the ‘ballpark’ was in constant use during summer months. The whack of the bat on ball, plastic on plastic, closely followed by cheerful shouting as young hitters outraced the nimble fielder, their dad, for an extra base, or two, often winning with a tumbling slide.

It’s a bit sad when the last out of the last game is made. Players collect the bat, ball and bases, the gates are shuttered and the curtain comes down on the old ‘ballpark’. It’s time to move on. It’s the same with families.

Our young neighbors and the ‘team’ are doing just that, moving on. We’ve enjoyed their friendship for 10 years and wish them well, knowing they’ll do fine. They have strong values of faith and love for one another.

As for the ‘team’, when it was all said and done, they moved on, hand in hand, likely learning more lessons from their ‘coach’.

The new field will be nice but the memories of the old field, their first ‘ballpark’, will stay with them forever. Life is like that…

Steve (031823)

For Jonathan, Eva, Noah & Jacob

Winter Scarves: A Love Story

Scarf

So warm, this knitted scarf: a treasure beyond worth, that hides within each woven stitch her heart.*

Winter winds blow cold in western New York, especially along the icy shores of the easternmost Great Lake, Ontario. And, while the calendar tells us the dates for ‘old man winter’, Mother Nature determines when it really begins and ends. In these parts, that can be anytime from November thru March, five long months, not three.

Even April has been known to harbor cold winds and wet snows.

Combating those elements and keeping the chill at bay becomes a daunting seasonal challenge. This winter I’m meeting that challenge head on, or should I say, ‘neck and shoulder’ on, with some degree of success. How?

SCARVES!

Not just any scarf, mind you, but homemade scarves, in a variety of colors, sizes and designs, patterns, as they’re called.

Scarves long enough to cross in front and drape down, keeping my torso warm, or scarves to wrap thickly around my neck as an even stronger barrier against the weather. Scarves that are a bit wide and can be converted to a shawl, a ‘man shawl’.

And it goes without saying that while these scarves are functional, keeping the elements out and the warmth in, they are a fashion statement, as well, not that I’m concerned about looks. But who doesn’t mind occasional flattery, some ‘oohs and aahs?

These scarves, a dozen by count, are knitted by my wife as a hand therapy exercise. I’m the beneficiary and each time I wear one, which is daily, it may be cold, but I feel wrapped in a layer of love, something else to keep me a bit warmer.

Mother Nature may win the war, as she often does, but with the help of my scarves, I occasionally win a battle.

Do you have a favorite scarf? Tell me about it. And stay warm…

Steve (030923)

Love On The Sidewalk…

It happened in a most awkward way, as love is wont to do. A thrown kiss, a wink, a wave and a look of expectation that it would be returned. But I would have none of it.

The humorist in me wanted to ask if the kisses were meant for me, but I bit my tongue and held back. Why spoil a good street performance with a silly annoyance.

Valentine’s Day is upon us. Love sightings will abound. Will you observe them?

Happy Valentine’s Day to lovers everywhere…

Steve #021423

Love On The Veranda…

“Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.” (Shakespeare)

(Wikipedia)

A Frog, A Hog & A Dog, #2: A Hot Summer Day

By Grandpa

For Ben & Summer

Oh, what to do on a hot summer’s day…

That was the challenge facing the FROG, the HOG and the DOG on a hot summer day…

The first day of summer was so hot and the three friends, the frog, the hog and the dog were doing what good friends like doing on hot summer days, or any days, they were enjoying being together…

The day was too hot to hop, too hot to stomp and too hot to romp, nevertheless, the three friends knew just what to do…

The frog, the hog and the dog gathered along the edge of a nearby pond under a huge shade tree. While cooling my feet in the pond waters, I watched them from afar with my trusty binoculars, as they tried their very best to stay cool…

The small friend, the green frog, sat on a lily pad in the pond, which helped cool its smooth skin…

Sometimes, it would slide into the water for a refreshing swim

The small frog thought that staying wet was the perfect way to stay cool on a hot summer day…

The big friend, the pinkish hog, flopped its rather big body in the muddy edge of the pond under a gigantic shade tree…

Because the hog was so big and so heavy, it sank into the soft mud, way up its wide sides, over its bottom and nearly covering its curly tail. The hog found the muddy water cool and comforting…

The big hog thought that laying in the mud on its side…

on its belly…

and on its back…

was a perfect way to stay cool on a hot summer day…

The medium size friend, the black and white dog with thick long hair, decided just to lay on the ground and rest…

The tall green grass nearly covered the dog’s eyes, nevertheless it could still see its friends by the pond, preferring to stay on dry ground, itself, deep in the blanket of soft, cool grass.

The dog thought that laying down and letting its tongue hang out the side of its mouth…

was the perfect way to stay cool on a hot summer day…

And while the frog, the hog and the dog relaxed under a shade tree, on a lily pad, in the mud, and on the grass, they could still see and speak to each other, friend to friend to friend, all about the fun times they have together, even when it’s hot…

And that is how the three friends, the frog, the hog and the dog stayed cool on a hot first day of summer…

What do you do with your friends to stay cool on hot summer days?

Ben & Summer, brother & sister and best friends forever

Steve B

June 2021

A Frog, A Hog and A Dog, #1: A Story About Friends

For Ben & Summer

This is a story of three very different friends, a FROG, a HOG and a DOG, and the fun they had when the rain stopped and the sun peeked from behind the clouds.

The smallest friend, a FROG, had smooth green skin and made funny noises with its throat, ‘Ribid’, ‘Ribid’!

The biggest friend, a HOG, had rough, pinkish skin and made grunting noises with its nose, ‘Grunt’, ‘Grunt’!

The medium size friend, a Dog, had skin covered with thick black and white hair and made barking noises with its mouth, ‘Woof’, ‘Woof’!

It didn’t matter to the frog, the hog and the dog that they were different, they just enjoyed each other’s company, especially when the rain stopped, because you know what you have when the rain stops…

PUDDLES!

All sorts of puddles: BIG and SMALL puddles, WIDE and NARROW puddles, DEEP and SHALLOW puddles. oodles and oodles of puddles…

And what do you do with puddles? The frog, the hog and the dog knew…..

Jump in them!

Stomp in them!

Run in them!

First, the frog jumped in a puddle and made a small splash. After all, the frog was the smallest friend. But the frog was having too much fun to be concerned about the size of its splash. Look at that big frog smile!

Next, the hog squatted it’s bottom in a puddle and made the biggest splash. After all, the hog had the biggest bottom.

The hog was having so much fun, so it splashed in another puddle.

This time the hog stomped up and down on its hind legs snd waved its front legs, which wasn’t easy because the hog was so big. Puddle water splashed everywhere…

Just look at that happy hog face…

Finally, the dog ran into a puddle, one way, then the other, before flopping down and rolling around and around. The dog was covered with muddy puddle water from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail, except for one spot. Can you find it?

The dog had so much fun. Just look at that happy dog face…..

As I enjoyed watching the frog jump, the hog stomp, and the dog run through the puddles, I was distracted by the cheerful sounds of children playing in the distance.

With my trusty binoculars, I was able to see a boy and girl playing in their own puddles. They wore the perfect boots for jumping, running and stomping, a blue pair and a pink pair.

I wonder who they were…

Do you play in puddles with your friends?

If You Can’t Be There, Then Write A Story

Covid-19, thé pandemic and all, sure has thrown a monkey wrench into family gatherings, hasn’t it?

As first time grandparents, we see the tots on ‘FaceTime’, but you can’t hug a phone and expect an emotional response.

What about letter writing to the kiddos? Give them something to hold that came from you. A sheet of paper?

Here’s an idea. Take the letter writing a step further and write a story about something that is going on in your daily life. They’ll read it over and over. Well, their parents will. Maybe you can read it yourself on a FaceTime.

I did just that, wrote a story, and it’s been fun. It had to be a real story, something that actually happened with a fair dose of ‘writer’s license’. That is, I could stretch the truth a bit just to make it more fun.