Madeline's Stance & Perplexed Husband's Romanceticity

Greetings, Readers!

 Lisa here.  We are having technical difficulties putting the Car-Matching Quiz together.  And when I say "technical" I'm mainly talking about Madeline—who is balking at collaging your cars and faces as she said she would NEVER do that again after the Purse-Matching Contest shown HERE—which she avers was a pain in the tuchus.  

And you know what?  At the moment in our conversation when she started to repeat herself about what she had said back in June, I recalled her words.  I just wish I had recalled them earlier—like when I was coming up with that carlossal idea.  

But it is what it is.

Ergo, I will be taking the weekend to figure out Microsoft Paint.  In the meantime, we've received this Response from Perplexed—the husband who wondered about his wife's prolific perfume habit and who wanted to get her the perfect gift.

In his own romantic words…

Snowy Evening by Maggie Peterson

Dear MikChicks

Thank-you, and your readers, for you kind advise.  And, although what I’m about to write will most likely cause my son to roll his eyes and my daughter to gasp, “Ewww…”; I believe it will, none-the-less, bring an enigmatic smile to my wife’s lips, a twinkle in her eye and a slight nod of understanding to her chin.

The best place to find the perfect perfume to match the essence of my wife and our relationship can be found no further than a few hundred feet to our barn.  Here, bales of hay still hold the sweet smell of summer. The stilled air is heady with the smell of horse flesh, scents of grain, oiled leather and wood shavings mixed with manure. The smoky, dust-coated windows better serve the place of the crystal citadels, standing pale atop her bedroom vanity.

For romance, if I’m lucky (and I mean this only in the most innocuous way) (well, maybe not), I’ll set up a singular round table with white linen table cloth in the center of our riding arena.  Atop it will be a candle, protected behind hurricane glass and a setting of silver mugs filled with hot apple cider and cinnamon sticks.  It will be Christmas Eve, the air crystal, lit only by a full, white moon. Snow flakes, soft and huge will have been caught in frigid Polar winds and gently feather down between the stars, their drifting swirls reflecting in the silver mugs.  In the background, thanks to a portable CD player, Alan Jackson is singing “Remember When”.  Perfumed by the scents from the barn, I take my wife’s hand and we dance…

Our audience will be two snow bunnies, their mouths stained blue from their munching the frozen raspberries still hanging from ice-encased branches; and, our two horses, Krissy and Danny Boy, standing and waiting patiently to carry us on our Christmas ride through the falling snow.

 I know this is not what you or your readers envisioned, but there is something my wife and I learned a long time ago.  It’s something Dorothy said when she returned from Oz – that if you ever go looking for your heart’s desire, you need look no further than your own backyard.

As to what I’ll really surprise her with?  Probably a B&N Nook Book – it expands your backyard to endless possibilities.

My best wishes and God’s continued Grace to you and your families in this Christmas Season of Miracles and into the New Year to come.

Perplexed No More:)

We suppose this is Another Reader whom we did not actually help but is nonetheless happy.  He makes some valid points and sets a high standard.  Sam and Aaron and all the Husbands out there—we defy you to beat that standard!  And my "defy" we mean encourage!  Oh, forget beat—let's just meet it. 

Or come really really close.

Or anywhere in the vicinity.  There are, after all,  17 shopping days left till Christmas, and horses can be purchased HERE.

What do you think, Dear Readers?  What say ye?

Wistfully Yours,

Lisa and Maddie