I Love My Wife-I really Do And She Is Special

I love my wife Fiona-the name was chjanged to protect the innocent, namely me. I am so glad that she said yes to marrying me in that Clovis, California parking lot of my apartment complex. I saw that look in her eye and said to myself, "Its time, go ahead and ask her." As of this writing, that was fourteen years ago and we have been married for thirteen eventful but wonderful years. I like the name Fiona. We first met on a dating site and arranged to meet at a McDonalds in the town she lived in sixty miles away from where I lived. I have to say that I am a one woman man and truthfully I was looking for a good woman who would accompany me through the ups and downs of the rest of my life. She had to play golf. Fiona did and that kind of sealed the deal. OK, there was more to it than that. I'm going to steal a line here. How do I love thee, my dear? Let me count the ways. I don't steal much of anything as far as lines go, but this just seemd appropriate. When we first met, it seems to me that sparks immediately began to fly. I had that "this could be promising" feeling in my head and also my stomach began to flutter. Actually, I think the flutter in my stomach was the bad breakfast burrito I had at that taco truck before I came up to Merced to meet her. I think the biggest thing that attracted me to her was she was pretty much her "no nonsense" attitude She did not put on heirs, but showed me truly who she was. We chatted for a bit about ourselves and I could tell she was a strong woman. This was exactly what I was looking for. She was who she was and this was what you got with her. As we dated, we got to know each other better and I guess we both grew to like who we were with. By the way, that flutter in my stomach is still there and it is not because of my awful cooking. Much like the poles on a magnet we attract but are very different. She is a MEGA TYPE A personality (Not MAGA, MEGA). Everything needs to be perfect, perfectly done and picked up and in its place. If something needs to be done, it needs to be done NOW, not when you get around to it. Why wait until later to put off what you can do today, and please take your plates out of the TV room and put them in the dishwasher. We won't eve, talk about how competitive she is. Don't play tidelly winks with her and don't get into a golf money game with her. I love that about her but refuse to play any games with her. OK, so what about me. I passed TYPE B personality a long time ago. Truth told, I am operating somewhere around the TYPE R or S range. As I noted in a previous post, I suffer frome acute ADHD. I'll get to removing the dirty plates and cups from the tray by my recliner in the TV room in the morning. Hey, I just cooked us a great meal. Let me enjoy it and I will claen up the mess later. What she doesn't realize is that NOW is not in my vocabulary and LATER always comes-later, of course. Don't worry Dear, it will get done-when, later. This drives her nuts and I don't do it on purpose-well,...maybe not (I love you, Dear.). My wife has many faults, as we all do. I will admit that I have many faults as well. We do have tough conflicts but they don't ruin our relationship and actually make it stronger. I would be the first to admit that she is not perfect. Wait a minute, that didn't come out right. She's not perfect, but neither am I. There, I admitted it. The key is to look at each others strengths and good qualities and not dwell in the bad. It is also important to let things go, and not make them fester into something fatal. Here is the bottom line. With all the ups and downs of our relationship, I love my wife Fiona-name changed to protect the innocent namely me-and it has been a great thirteen years together with its ups and downs. Here's to many more wonderful years.

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder Isn't Fatal-Maybe Or Maybe Not

The three of you readers have probably wondered where I have been since that last time I posted. Let me give you a bit of an update. I have been suffering from an acute case of retirementitis. I don't think that condition is in any medical journals, but it is a true malady. I must confess that the congestive heart failure and the heart attack probably has contributed to my inability to motivate myelf do anything. However, there is a great motivator in my life and that is my wife. I knew I was in trouble when she went to the feed store and bought a cattle prod. Gene Autry said it best when he Sang "I'm back in the saddle again". Yes, I am writing again. I plan to be pretty busy in that I am going to post here at least once a week, I am reviving my http:.//golf-course-travel-bag.blogspot.com blog and posting on my newest blog http://golfisforcouples.blogspot.com. I am also working slowly but surely on my first book The Golf Ball Always Breaks Toward The Ocean, which is a humorous look at my sixty plus years of being involed in golf and much more. It should be out and published by 2125. I hope your great-great-grandkids will buy a copy and enjoy the humor. OK dear, can you put that cattle prod down now? Let's get back to the subject. I don't know how many of you are HDHD but you will recognize what I am talking about. Oh, look at that. Dick's has a sale on Maxfli golf balls. Get back to the subjct Dave, sorry about that. OK, OK Let's see, what was I talking about. Yes, we were talking about what it is like to have ADHD. Here's how I can describe it. My mind races like a busy day at Los Angeles International Airport. That A-380 is a huge airplane, isn't it? Your mind is wandering off subject again Dave. What was I trying to say? Oh yes, LAX and why my mind is like it. My brain works fast and furious. Ideas race into it and then go out. It is sort of like airplanes landing and taking off every ten seconds at that busy airport. The control tower tries to keep things organized but that does not slow the arrivals and departures. This can be painful, at least I know it is for my wife. There are times where I get totally overstimulated, especially when my wife gives me a total battery of tasks or talk about things that are issues of the day, such as her schedule or mine. It is sort of like an amplification of that age old qwuestion, What do you wand for dinner dear? There are so many options here that my brain goes on overload. By the way, the dinner question is an issue in and of itself and I plan to explore that in a future post. You guys out there probably know what I'm taliking about so stay tuned. Trying to write this is totally taxing my abilities. I have thoughts and ideas racing through my head right now. Who won the baseball game last night? Was your night at choir practice good, dear? Did I really mean to leave the top on the bottle of Root Beer in the refrigerator loose so that my wife would spill it all over the floor (I plead the fifth on that one)? There are so many ideas exploding in my mind right now and these are just a few. Take me away Double Down slot website. Yes, in order to calm my mind I must do something that is completely mindless. I go to Double Down Slot videwo games and just press the spin button. It is amazing how calming those spinning reels are. So, are we playing golf on Friday? When is my eye doctor appointment. STOP!!!!!!! OK, so ADHD is not fatal. Hey Dear, can you put that cattle pro down now? You can draw your own conclusions.

DavidRallisWrites: You're In The Jailhouse--Uh Doghouse--Now

DavidRallisWrites: You're In The Jailhouse--Uh Doghouse--Now:      So, what did I do wrong now?  Why is my wife mad at me?  If you are married or have been married, or have dealt with the female members...

You're In The Jailhouse--Uh Doghouse--Now

     So, what did I do wrong now?  Why is my wife mad at me?  If you are married or have been married, or have dealt with the female members of the human species you know what I am talking about.  I'm sorry but we males are at a distinct disadvantage when it comes to goofing--I use goofing because I am a church going man and can't use the "F" word--up with your favorite female and not knowing why.  Guys, you know what I'm talking about don't you?
     I got up this morning in a pretty good mood.  The dishwasher needed to be emptied and dirty dishes needed to be put in the dishwasher.  The kitchen needed to be cleaned up, so I started it and took a bit of a coffee break, fully intending to get back and finish the job.
     My wife got up and went into the kitchen.  It was clearly apparent to me something was a bit amiss as her normally bubbly champagne personality was not that but could best be described as more of a rotten chardonnay. I had a decision to make, probably wrong but the incident needed a definite course of action.  Hmmm...do I take the coward's way out and go to the gym to work out for say eight hours, or ride out the storm at the house and try to make the situation better. I decided to take the courageous route and stay, after all maybe I could garnish some brownie points and help make the situation better. I can honestly say that was the wrong decision.
     Yes I stayed, silly me.  I like describing things with weather metaphors so here goes.  Her "partly cloudy with showers" disposition when she woke up quickly changed into category five hurricane Julia--the name has been changed as her name isn't Julia to protect the innocent, namely me.  Into the kitchen she went huffing and puffing.  No dishes were thrown, but there was a lot of dish noise and a "See this dishcloth?  Its red where you have spilled punch in the refrigerator." comment.  I know I have been had when the refrigerator comment comes out.
     I know she was mad at something, basically mad at me in general. Stupid me, I asked the question, "Honey, are you mad at me?"  There was no answer, just a sort of audio sound of disdain. This is the upsetting "huf" that is sort of like the fingernails on a chalk board in its effect.
     What happened next is a mistake all of us guys make and I tried to stop it but it just came out.  Out of my mouth blurted, "What did I do wrong?"  After that came automatically out of my mouth I instantly heard The Death March--dum, dum, da dum, dum, da dum da dum da dum.
      "You know what you did." she answered.
    "Whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry for doing, but I really don't know exactly what I did wrong."  I said honestly.  At this point I was beginning to feel like a whipped cocker spaniel who had just chewed up their master's prized house slippers.
     "If you don't know what you did, I shouldn't have to tell you." she responded back.
     At that point, I went down my list in my head.  I took out the trash.  No, that isn't it.  I put the dishes away, including the silverware. That isn't it. I hung up my clothes.  No, that can't be it. Hey, I even wiped off the toilet seat and put the lid down.  I even sprayed air freshener.  I give up!  What is it?
     "Besides, if I had to tell you what you did wrong you don't love me."
     That's it, I quit. The battle has been lost.  Where are my car keys?  I'm off to the gym or at least to higher ground to let hurricane Julia pass.

All I have to do is add electricity, heating and air conditioning.