I went to a funeral yesterday. One of the contractors that Biker Dude works with passed away, and since I worked with Biker Dude for about 5 years, I knew the contractor quite well and liked him a lot, plus I’d met his wife at a few events, so I went to the funeral with him.

The husband and wife used to love to dance together, so during the funeral they had a woman get up and sang Patsy Cline’s Crazy, and I knew that was the beginning of the end for me. Why? Because I’m a weeper. Take me to a wedding or a funeral and it’s all over for me. Play some sad music and I’m sobbing. So five minutes into the funeral (which was held in the gymnasium…this is small town Oklahoma, people.). So here I am, not at all related or close to the deceased, sobbing in the bleachers of the gymnasium. My husband is sitting next to me probably thinking ‘Why did I bring her with me?’. Three tissues later the song ends and I compose myself. Until she sang “Look At Us” by Vince Gill. Yup, there I went again. My husband rolled his eyes at me, but he held my hand while I wept into my hankie.

Certain music always seems to get to me, whether it’s at a wedding, a funeral or watching a movie or tv show. At my father in law’s funeral it was You Were Always On My Mind by Willie Nelson. Yup, that one made me sob. I held it together really well at my mother’s funeral, right up until the choir started singing Ave Maria. Then I lost it. At my nephew’s wedding, they played Celine Dion’s Because You Loved Me, a song always guaranteed to get my waterworks going. This is probably why my husband always carries a handkerchief with him when we go to these events. He knows me well.

So if you need a big crier at your events, I’m your girl. Though as my husband pointed out to me last night, I might not be the best person to attend a funeral of some guy I barely know since he said ‘Next time don’t cry so loud up in the bleachers so they don’t think you’re some woman who was sleeping with the guy and now you’re all broken up about his death.” O-M-G :hide:

Does the music get to you at the funerals or weddings like it does to me, or can you hold it together all right?

Ahhh, Valentine’s Day. Let me tell you about mine.

First let me start out by saying this is in no way a complaint against my husband. My husband is awesome and I love him more than anything.

Saturday I had a migraine, so I spent most of the day popping pain pills and laying(lying?) around on the couch watching tv and doing mostly nothing. By Sunday morning I had the pain pill hangover and yet another headache, this one Sinus. joy. But I took a shower and we went to breakfast, then the grocery store. Oh, let me tell you about the grocery store. As we got out of the car and were walking through the parking lot, there were a LOT of guys walking out the door with flowers in hand. And then we walked in the front door and were inundated with HOLY CRAP MASSIVE DISPLAY OF RED ROSES! That’s so the guys walking on the morning of Valentine’s Day don’t panic wondering where they can flowers. Heh.

So anyway, grocery shopping on Valentine’s Day. Romantic as hell, huh? But oh, it gets better. We came home just in time for the start of the NASCAR race. Daytona 500, baby, the Great American Race, the kickoff to racing season.

Snore. Total snoozefest. You’d think they’d have figured out the structural integrity of the racetrack was breaking down BEFORE the race, right? So they wouldn’t have to stop the race Twice? But the end of the race made up for it, even though the race took like 15 hours to run. Okay, it didn’t take 15 hours. Just felt that way.

Anyway, while I was watching the race, Biker Dude was painting bathroom doors. We’re doing a bathroom remodel. Over the past couple weeks he ripped out carpet and tile, took down wallpaper (people…wallpaper sucks. Taking down wallpaper sucks. What a heinous project THAT was). He’s been painting the bathroom and all the trim. This week the tile dudes will be coming in to retile the shower and bathroom floor. So Biker dude was painting doors in the garage all day.

So while he did that, I did…uh…nothing. See aforementioned killer headache.

And thus was my Valentine’s Day. No flowers. My husband will come home sometime during the year that isn’t a holiday or my birthday and have flowers in his hand, for no occasion or particular reason. Those are the kinds of things that make me smile and make my heart melt, because he’ll buy me flowers because he wants to, not because he thinks he has to. And I can’t have chocolate anymore. Dammit. :giggle:

I’m not really big on these holidays that make you spend a craptastic amount of money for no good reason, when love should be celebrated in small ways every day. A smile, a touch, a glance, a kiss, a kind word between friends, a gesture that shows someone you care. That’s love, not candy and flowers and expensive dinners. j

As far as my husband, he is redoing my bathroom. And it’s been a giant pain in the ass project that’s eaten up his nights after work for the past few weeks. Any man who would do that has to love me, right? :heart:

I’m currently working on the synopsis for my first MIRA suspense, working on writing my football story for Berkley, and this week I got edits for RIDING THE EDGE, my novella in NAUTI AND WILD, the anthology I’m in with Lora Leigh this year. Yikes!

Which means I’m buried in work and totally without a brain cell to spare. So how about some photos of my grandchildren? I know it’s been awhile since i showed you a picture of my gorgeous granddaughter who was born in October. She’s four months old now…can you believe it?

Here she is yesterday sitting at my laptop, so I hit the webcam and took a pic:

And not to be outdone is her gorgeous big sister who had some fun in our recent snow. (Can you see the missing front teeth when she smiles? Totally melts my heart.)