How to Find and Marry Your "Edward"

It has come to my attention that there are many women and girls that aspire to find their very own "Edward." I would like to help, since I have snatched up mine. Some might say that he fell into my lap, that I got "lucky" and maybe it's what happened, but I like to think that I was smart enough to look him in the eyes and know that I was his and he was mine, no doubt about it. I want to write this blog for my daughters and my sister...whomever needs to fill their hole in their heart with a descent man. The way I came up with this idea was thinking about writing down what qualities my daughters father has that I would like them to find in their future mate. It's important that children know that their parents are in love and why they chose that person for eternity. I thought to myself I might as well write it in the form of a blog so that other females may have the advice I will be giving my daughers, it can't hurt anything, and it's good practice for my writing. I wish I wrote in a journal every day so that I could remember what my kids, husband and myself go through and do each day. I forget five minutes after it happens.

So here's to the journey....

A Rough Draft

Mother was in her late fifties, she stood five feet 4 inches tall, which made picking blackberries a chore every summer. Not enough of a chore to keep her from it, the soft dark purple berries were warm occasionally leaving juice behind to stain the skin. She would give a quick lick when the juice streamed down her hand, to cut off the flow. I remember hearing her voice, singing, skipping the words she didn’t know humming to fill the gaps, I wanted to help her pick the berries but sitting, watching, while listening to that angelic voice pulled me to the ground. Lying in the grass, the clouds chose to whir by; the needles from the evergreens were dry, poking through my bright pink summer dress. We lived at the farm for ten years now; I had just celebrated my fifteenth birthday. My siblings a brother and a sister were older, leaving home for college, marriage, opportunities that take us from the nest. At first mother was happy to send the older ones off, not happy because they were leaving, no, she would never want them to go because she was tired of them, but happy to see her kids old enough to search for their dreams, start families which meant grandchildren and experience life as adults. She had high hopes for their futures; one thing she didn’t assume would happen is that they would be living far enough away that she couldn’t visit. That’s when she had the mini breakdown. I was at school, the principal called me down to his office, it wasn’t what you might be thinking, and mom didn’t do anything dangerous. She was there talking to Mr.Phillips, she had a new green dress on, she looked so beautiful and happy, it scared me. The last few months she wore house dresses everywhere, even into town, her makeup not done, slippers for shoes, her long dark hair pulled back. She wouldn’t shower for four days at a time, but that day she showed up at my school looking prettier than I had ever seen her before. Her shoes caught my eye, they were green snakeskin, the bottoms were red I think that meant they were expensive name brand shoes. The heels had to have been four to six inches; the bottoms of the soles were thick nothing like I would have pictured her owning or wearing. My mom frequented used stores for clothes, shoes even underwear on occasion, she was always thrifty, today everything was knew. She had gone to get her hair done, nails, new makeup, oh, if my dad could see her I don’t know if he would be happy or have a heart attack from the change of scenery.

Why I Love My Life

I was peeling potatoes last night and I thought to myself that I am really happy with my life. I don't live in a mansion, we drive older cars, we don't shop at the GAP or anything close to it. We eat on a little budget, we don't go on great trips, but we are happy and healthy. Our kids are so good they know we love them- trying to do their best only to get a little "good job." They aren't selfish; most of the time they are trying to help others focusing on others needs. They are polite feeling proud of themselves when they use their pleases and thank yous on the lunch ladies, that are pretty crabby I hear. Steve and I have a good marriage that we work on every day trying to do our part so that the other person will have an easier time. We have electricity, running water, an inside bathroom, a dishwasher, warm beds, and a washer and dryer in the "Dungeon" which is our basement. We live in an old farm house so it's more of a dungeon than a basement. We sing "dum- dum- da- dum, dum- dum- da- dum, over and over down the stairs put in the laundry and then do the spider dance, which consists of us rolling our hips around singing "Let's do the spider dance Ahh! Ahh! then repeated. We switch back to the other song as we head up the stairs. Oddly enough my husband hates going down there even more than me. I don't think it's as bad as I thought it would be. The only thing I am worried about are the spiders, I have a phobia of them. My husband likes his job so he is happy now, which he has not been for years. I didn't realize how much that affected our family. People always talk about if the mom isn't happy then she sets the mood. So I guess what I am saying is I am greatful for the life I have, it's a good one.