The juicy bits...

Okay, I have a link to our children's films at youtube. Go ahead and take a peek if you'd like. The link is over to the right.

And now...

The long-awaited juicy bits!

Turning 40 is for some people a momentous event chock full of black balloons, cocktail parties, and lengthy stops in front of the bathroom mirror to check for gray hair, facial hair, heavy hips, and wrinkles. But not me! I chose to ignore the obvious and instead delve deep into my psyche for a spiraling dumpster dive into the past -- complete with lost loves, followed by late night rendezvous (I give up -- how do you pluralize rendezvous?) and midnight encounters in my own back yard. 

I'm not in the mood to discuss lost loves at the moment, because, let's face it. If you really want to feel alive, you don't dumpster dive! (Words of wisdom from someone who KNOWS.)

On to the late night rendezvous -- Guaranteed to ignite the fires within. Ooh, la, la!!!

You take a picnic basket, fill it with candles, matches, homemade seafood crepes fresh from the oven, silverware, cloth napkins, two tiny bottles of champagne, flute glasses for the champagne, strawberries to plop into each glass, and a rich store-bought dessert -- chocolate mousse, preferably. You spread the picnic items on a blanket in a surprising place, like, say, the roof of a church in the densely-populated downtown area of a rather large city. Yep. The roof. You bring along an extension cord and a boombox with cds of the most romantic music around -- I believe Tuck and Patti rule all in this category. Sweet jazz. Smooth as silky satin on a brand new baby's bottom. But I digress. So you set all this up ahead of time. Then you take your honey bunny, blindfold him, drag him into the building, up the elevator, and onto the balcony. You remove the blindfold, walk him out onto the roof, and dine in moonlight (and candlelight) splendor, with rooftop views of the cityscape and a little smoochie-smoochie, hoochie-coochie after the crepes are gone and the fizzy lifting drinks have done their duty. Oh, yeah!!!

The midnight encounters in my own back yard will have to wait till next time... 

Yours -- with sugar and spice and everything nice,

M.E.G.  

Did you know my initials used to spell my name before I got married? Tiny trivia that may come in handy one day when you are locked out of my castle and don't have the password to get in...

Princess Megan Elizabeth, of Hoyt Castle in yonder Fair Valley

Oh, and a final P. S. Is anyone doing NaNoWriMo this year? Or are you all procrastinating like me by blogging instead?