marriage

I’ll Buy That for a Dollar!

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Next June will mark my 22nd wedding anniversary. Hubby and I are planning a really cool vacation and I plan to fully enjoy myself without cumbersome worries of how are we going to eat when we get back from this lovely little trip. I have begun to save large chunks which mean there is little room left for play money. I thereby had to put myself on a cash diet. I can only use my credit card or debit card for emergencies. This past week I have truly learned the value of a dollar. I have also learned that there are something’s that I will not buy, not even for a dollar!

As I previously stated in one of my early post, I have begun to coupon. I am now a step below extreme couponing and hovering around extreme value shopping. I have become, what I consider, to be very clever. I am recycling everything from pieces of left over roast, which are transformed into taco night, or in this weather, a hearty stew. The stews are great to also use up the leftover peas and carrots in the fridge. I am even stocking up the pantry and deep freezer. Let me tell you how.

As I was leaving the house to start my bargain shopping, I noticed the planters on the front porch needed fall plants. Normally, by this time, I would have added some Mums, but I wanted to stretch what I have until it is time to put in the Icicle Pansies. I head over to my friendly neighborhood Lowes. Instead of shopping in the front, I head to the rear of the garden center to THAT rack. Yes, the rack of shelves with sad, lonely, and deserted plants. I have found the ones on the ends are the healthiest and easy to revive. I picked up two hanging Tahitian Bridal Veils for $1 each. They need to be repotted so next I head to Roses. Instead of purchasing the name brand bags of potting soil for five bucks, I opt for the local no name bags for $1. Hey, it’s dirt. I am going to add some plant food when I repot them anyway. Now it’s time to get really busy.

I am headed to the buy one get one sale at Food Lion. I have already added the sale coupons to my MVP card buy downloading the digital coupons to my frequent shopper cards. The hard copy of manufacturer coupons in hand, I have a $1 off of two boxes of Cheerios, which just happen to be on sale for buy one get one. Armed with my sale ad in hand, I pick up bags of chicken breast, shrimp, Doritos, and a large 39 oz container of coffee. I save $1 on the coffee, which I purchased for $7.99. I am on a roll. I purchased high end ice cream at buy one get one along with high end butter crackers. Zesta Whole Wheat Crackers at buy one get one box is great deal; grabbed two of those.

I load up the mama mobile and make my way to Kroger. They are having a ten for $10 sale. Here, you have to be very careful. Last week, the same store brand vegetables I got for $.88 per bag are now in the 10 for ten sale; this is not good friends. I did pick and choose which items were a good deal for a buck, but Lipton Rice mixes are a dollar anyway, so this is not really a good buy. Staples purchased, I now have my local independent grocer’s ad, or the local IGA. These stores are great for pantry items. There is a five for $5 sale going on so I stock up on two pounds bags of rice, hot sauce, ketchup can goods and dry beans. I also grab a ten pound bag of chicken leg quarters for $6. I do have a freezer safe bags in the trunk for my cold items. These wonderful bags keep food cold for 3 hours.

My last stop is to the local Bakery outlet. Tuesday and Friday’s at the John Derst bakery outlet has bread on sale for $.79. Wheat bread, cinnamon raisin bread, Kaiser Hamburger buns and hot dog rolls are all for $.79; with no buying limits. I have found that you can freeze bread for up to 3 months and when you defrost, it is good as new.

    My pantry is stocked. My fridge and freezer is full and my bank account is not empty. I have a full tank of gas, my hair is done, and I have a few bucks left in my working account for just in cases. I did all of this today, including my hair, for a mere $160.00. It’s okay, you can say, “ooohhhh!” I know I did.

    I must close out now because my new issue of All You arrived in the mail. The cover says there are $94.55 worth of coupons inside. I have work to do.



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Love, the New Dirty, Four Letter Word……

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September 17, 2011

The other day, I was in the grocery store and I saw a Mother beating the crap out of her kid because he kept asking her to buy him items that were evidently out of her budget. It did not take me long to
quickly access that this was the case, because she reiterated, by yelling at the six year old stating, “I told yo azz in da car, don’t be in here begging for Sh*t, cause I can’t afford it!” Okay, that was understood, but the child did not understand it, and here is the part that I did not understand. She saw me watching her, and turned, bold as day and told me, “Ain’t nobody gonna Love my child the way I do, and I have to teach them now that life is hard.” If this isL, then I would hate to see how you deal with someone you don’t like, let alone hate. This is where we come to our discussion for this week and the dirty word that I am quickly starting to despise myself, Love.

Love is the one word in the Bible, for all you naysayers that want to argue that we should Love our fellow man, which is defined.

7 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

 8 Love never fails

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

-1 Corinthians 13

Evidently our Mom of the Year has never read this passage, and neither have a lot of other people for that matter. As a Mother, it is our job to care for, protect and see to the needs of our children. It is our job to make sure they understand what “good” Love is so they can distinguish the parameters of bad Love. However, in the name of Love, there are countless atrocities against children by mothers who want to keep a man in the home, because she Loves him. There are atrocities committed against children by fathers who didn’t want to go outside of the home for sexual fulfillment, because they Love their families. There are groups of men who Love young boys so much that they will snatch them off the street or buy one from a struggling poor family, so they can Love them to death. There are families who so Love their children they will sell them to the first truck coming, so they can have a better life and not starve. Yes, all of this, in the name of love.

    Children are not the only victims of the dirty word, so are our teens and young adults, who are convinced they are in Love. They date older guys who Love and buy them things. This Love convinces them that we are one, and you do not need a condom. Love has just given you an STD, or AIDs and therefore has just sentenced you to death. Just remember, your partner did say that they Love you.

    At any hospital on a full moon, or a payday Friday night, Love sends at least 50 women in each city to the emergency room. Their spouse, man, mate, shack up buddy, has used Love taped to a stick, to beat the crap out of them. Somehow or other he even convinced her that in doing so, Love would help her to understand his growing need to use his fist on her face. However this time, Love completely took over, went too far, and took her life force. Love is now putting him in jail for manslaughter.

Love, always protects and always hopes. This is the mantra that is chanted by millions of housewives across the world. This is the hope of spouses who know and understand that those whispered phone calls in the middle of the night, are not to your partners mother to discuss her arthritis. Love, somehow walked over to your spouse, whispered in their ear, and convinced them that they still had it. What it is, and why it should be shared, is beyond me, but the person with whom they are sharing it, Loves them. As the argument continues, while your partner is sitting there with a tub of ice cream, feeling dejected, you boldly state, “They Love me, for me.”

No, they Love your representative. The real you is a liar, a cheat and has dishonored your vows. The real you smiles in your partner’s face, while the representative is out sticking his face in someone else’s partner. Love talked you into believing your own press, your own hype and has told you that this new representative is the “real you” and that it Loves this new direction. The new direction is going to be one of loneliness. The 80’s are over, you are no longer twenty, and the only thing you can capably do all night is sleep. I hope Love was kind enough to tell you that! Love is just a dirty word used on a small scale to make others feel big.

Let’s use our dirty word on a larger scale. Let’s use it toward patriotism. Love has told many a believer that in order to get to heaven, you must love your God and your country. This Love of God and country makes you want to kill others who do not think as you think, Love as you Love, or worship as you do. Love took down the World Trade Center. Love created the Tea Party. Love created a movement of “yes, we can!” The Tea Party, Congress, and Love banded together and proved to us all that “No, you can’t.” Love of money, created balloon mortgages, Ponzi schemes, and a Wall Street that ate a country alive. Love of a large profit margin moved our businesses out of our country and created unemployment. Love has made the most powerful country in the world, powerless, and a suburb of China.

I do not like this word Love. Love is a liar. Love is misused, abused, and put on a street corner to sell itself. Love shows up to your house and whispers sweet nothings in your ear with one hand in your pants and the other in your wallet. Love uses manipulation to make you believe that it is there for you, and will forsake you for all others, while it caresses your cheek with its left hand, and smacks the butt cheek of its Lover with the right. Love calls you at night and talks to you for 30 minutes making you feel appreciated, then hangs up and calls another Bitch and tells her the same thing. Love lies in bed beside you at night massaging your ego, and next week is at a flea bag hotel with some internet person who is well hung. Love is a dirty four letter word that is overused.

Stop it. Think about what you are saying, and why you are saying it, because what you are saying and doing does not match. Love has made you into a hypocrite. Yeah, yeah, Love you too!


Romance is Dead

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I want to believe, I really do, but after listening to non-satellite radio, I am convinced that romance is dead.

I want your ugly, I want your disease, I want your everything as long as it’s free.” – Lady Gaga

What the bleep? This is not romantic music.

I don’t blame the music industry.

I don’t blame lame TV shows that require you to get a rose in order to feel relevant.

I don’t blame movies for forgetting how to get it right.

I blame women.

Yes, you, Ms. Bring a movie and pick up some Chinese food for our date night. That is not a date; that is a booty call. When did we as women stop feeling as if our feelings mattered? Why is it that we no longer want him to be able to ignite our fires, but we are okay if he can just buy a match. However, this cannot just be one sided, my ladies, when was the last time you even got close to the oven to get him heated? He needs as much romance as we do. Enough of the puppy love and unadventurous dates, time to add some spark to your repertoire and some spark to your weekend. Date night is about to get grown up. According to Men’s Health Magazine online, there are lists, and lists and more lists on how to get it right. There is a list of what women believe makes the perfect date. If you can’t get it right, you can at least get close.

Now this is a good start.

Granted, not every date can be expensive or extensive; sometimes the best dates in the world can be at home. I have inserted a nice link here for you to find ways to get your romance on in your own home. What I am suggesting here is to use your imagination to exercise your romantic elbow. Flex that sucker and give the person in your life a chance to remember why you are together. We are not talking about putting on a pair of your best Victoria’s Secret gear, or showing your pole dance moves, this is about getting into your partner’s head and saying I appreciate having you in my life. I want you to take a minute to re-evaluate why you wake up next to this person, how you got here and remind them that your heart is still beating and romance in your mind is still alive.

I will leave you with this link that gives you 100 great date night ideas. While you are on your date, I challenge you to learn one new thing about your partner, date or mate. You cannot honestly know how to romance your partner if you do not fully understand with whom you are sharing your life. I want to believe that romance is alive. Come back and share with me why you also think that romance is not dead but alive in your life. I can’t wait to read your comments and just in case, here is your red rose to let you know you are a keeper.


Marriage Vows vs Home Improvement Projects

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The other day while watching DIY or HGTV, I witnessed something beautiful. I saw a married couple working on a home improvement project and they were laughing, smiling and feeling proud of their accomplishments. I found myself smiling and feeling euphoric as well which lead to my latest disaster, and next big question, should marriage vows be changed to include home improvement projects? Does death do us part include the completion of a home improvement tasks?

Our son has hit that age where he still is a resident, but does not officially reside in the house. It was time to redo the room of a teenager and make it the residence of a man. A fresh coat of paint was needed as well as new crown moldings, dual functioning furniture, and an extra bedroom in case of guests when he was away. It started nicely enough, but by the end of day one, I had evolved from Suzie Helpmate to Seaman Foulmouth. Day two ended with me as a full rear admiral and swabbing the poopdeck. I can vaguely remember a sentence that started with an F word and ended with you, the horse you rode in on, his stable master, the groom and your cockeyed brother! Allow me to explain.

My husband is a real man. If it breaks, he can fix it. He can buy it, install it, rewire it, remove it, grout it, caulk it, seal it, and make it dance should it require such. However, no matter how big, or small the project, he has to tear up every room in the house. It is utter chaos, which leaves you swearing to all that is unholy just to find a pair of panties and a matching sock. This project was no different, but to paint the room it had to be emptied.

Emptying this room meant he had to store the items somewhere else which usually meant sticking them all in my space. Never fear, we just need to run to Lowe’s to pick up an item or two. We did go to Lowe’s. We went to all three Lowes. By now the only thing I felt Lowe’s and I could build together was a hostile relationship.

We went to both Home Depots and the angry woman in me wanted to know, when did they become some F*****ing helpful? We went to three furniture stores, and when I began to become snappy and crabbish, we went to lunch. Discussing paint colors and finishes of door knobs and handles evidently appeared to be fascinating to our waitress who decided to add her two cents. I think that will be the last time she ever does that again! My questioning of the origin of my friendship with her sans the eyeball rolling and neck gesturing, still had the same affect especially when my sentence ended with “we aren’t friends, I don’t know you, get out of our conversation and bring me another Diet Coke!” Hubby stopped talking to me for the rest of the day.

Meanwhile, back on the home front and the beginning of day two, my paint trimming was not up to hubby’s standards and he decided to give the trim a fresh coat of paint that morning. The carpet installers commented on the paint still being wet. Over the rim of my cup of coffee, I provided a quick retort of something close to “Lay the F***ing carpet, I have another can of paint,” which came out in a militant soul sister sneer that did include eyeball rolling and a neck gesture. Hubby went outside to work on his truck, the carpet guys went out there with him and the cat hid under the table.

So what did I learn? I learned my son has hoarding tendencies as evident by the two bags of rocks, his favorite cowboy boots when he was three and the 14 gym bags. I learned that I am a control freak that likes to move in an orderly fashion and chaos blocks my mental chi. After going through bag number three of my son’s belongings, each sentence was ending with “WTF is that?” clued me in on the idea of having son boy finish the task I assigned him. But, what I learned most importantly is that my husband not only loves me, but he also likes me. We have completed in the past three weeks, four home improvement projects to include installation of new carpet and appliances, and he still wants to talk to me. He may want to wash my mouth out with soap, but we will not have to alter our marriage vows to include til death do us part this home improvement project.


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I don’t know what your destiny will be, but one thing I do know: the only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and found how to serve.—Albert Schweitzer:

A new dirty word

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A  new dirty word

By Cheryl Aaron-Corbin

             Initially I think I was deluded into believing that students had changed.  As an educator, we hear every excuse known to man and few new ones made up for women. Yet, recently, I learned a new dirty word that goes across any genre, any board, and even across generations; that word is accountability. When did we stop being liable for our actions? We can now let the finger pointing begin.

            There is the school of thought that rationalizes wrong doing by compartmentalizing our actions. Saying that oral sex is not in fact intercourse, and because intercourse did not occur, one can stand before the American public and emphatically state, “I did not have sex with that woman!.” Or we can fast forward to the new millennium, and place our playthings in a house in the desert along with our love child, and hope that no one finds out that the love child is a month older than my child. Naturally, it wasn’t his fault, because his wife, at the time, was pregnant, moody, and not paying him enough attention.

            We hear it in songs, where singers tell their mates, “Blame it on me, and say it’s my fault” in which she encourages her cheating spouse, to say that she’s a liar, a cheater, or say anything that he wants.  This codicil was made under the supposition that he would be leaving in haste. Has it come to a state where we accept the bad behavior and excuses just to rid ourselves of the headaches?

            This does not work for me. I think we need to want more, and we need to do better. I teach a customer service class where I taught my students about their communication styles.  I taught this lesson under the premise that if you consistently receive bad service, then maybe it’s time to look at what you are putting out. If your attitude is “stank”, then the response of those serving you will be matched. Further, a student who consistently has poor attendance, does not pay attention in class, and can not for the life of all that is wholly, turn in a consistently formatted document, ends up in tears, then is it my fault?  According to the student, the fault lay with me.

            In the litany of her tears, I was accused of being harder on her, unfair in my assessments of her work and last but not least, she was able to read my disapproval of her in my body language. As the professional and the only adult in the room, I stood back, folded my hands across my lap and took a deep breath.  I calmly asked, “What about you?” Perplexed and confused, she stopped crying and looked at me as if I had just passed gas. When I asked if her lack or preparation, typing the speech in class as others presented their work, while being the only student who was still reading her speech in Week 7, and turning her back to me was an indicator, did she take any accountability? Of course she did not, because she had a list of reasons why she was not prepared, and of course, since I did not like her, she tuned me out.

            I give up. I hereby am selling licenses to any who are interested in becoming a Professional Dumbass Assessor (PDAss). Why not, the country is loaded with them, you live next to one, work with several and probably have dated a few. As a carte blanche card holding aficionado, you will be licensed to speak to your mind and call a spade a spade.  And here is the best part; the fine print on the back of the card says that you are not accountable due to your Tourette’s.

Let a man be a man

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I am often asked how have you managed to say married for so long?  My answer is very simple; I let my husband be who he is.

 I have been married for 20 years with one child who is now in college.  Over the years we have had our bumps and hiccups and our struggles for power. One day my husband told me, you can be in charge of whatever it is you do in your office, but in this house, you are wife and mother.  Yep, go ahead, catch your breath, because I know I did.  My first reaction was to get up cross the room, and knock the taste out of his mouth.  But I stopped and considered his words.

 I took his words to heart and in year 3, I concentrated on being his wife and the mother to my child.  When he walks in the door from work, I greet him with a kiss, and now that we are empty nesters, sometimes skimpy lingerie.  Dinner is on the table when he walks in the door whether I have cooked it, or ordered out.  There are always leftovers in the fridge, a sweet dessert or something yummy to snack on.  When he is watching tv, I leave him alone and let him enjoy his show.  And you know what….he does the same for me.

 The mortgage is paid on time, my car is road ready anytime I need to make a trip, and if I want to shop, he will give me what I need. During dinner we have conversations about life, world events, and about each other.  He nurtures my need to change the world and allows me the freedom to do just that while I support him in being my man and taking care of our family.

 We often hear the phrase let a man be a man, but often misconstrue it as giving a man free reign to sow his wild oats. Letting a man be a man to me, means making sure he feels wanted and needed.  Because in the end, everyone want to be needed, but a man needs to be wanted.

 I know some of you will disagree, but if you have not been married longer than I have then save your comments. And just in case you are wondering, I have a masters and PhD that he paid for.