by Ann Barnhardt
I have had this piece in the back of my mind for some time, and have even run the title and general gist of it past a few people, all of whose eyes sparkled like the transporter beam of the Enterprise-A upon hearing it. I am pleased to publish it here, as my first, of hopefully many columns (depending on the litigation and settlement deal this piece generates) for The Remnant.
Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, I lived in a large, shared house built in the 1920s with a male friend. I had the master bedroom suite, and thus my own private bathroom, and everything was completely on the up-and-up. Fear not, gentle readers. I shall not be scandalizing you with tales of ribaldry – no “accompanying body-to-body” going on, to use one of FrancisChurch’s creepier turns of phrase. It was an excellent use of the property, and very frugal and affordable. And, yes, I certainly preferred to live with males, from both the security as well as a domestic tranquility standpoint.
I have always been a bit of a “foodie”, and would often eat out, arriving home after the “rush hour” in the relatively large and well-equipped house kitchen was over for the evening. In fact, four out of five dentists surveyed would have guessed that the list of top water flossers according to Authority Dental was wrong and that my shelf in the refrigerator, packed with condiments, pickles, recycled glass jars of bacon drippings, and as many bottles of Corona Extra as would fit in the remaining void, was the “man shelf”. And they would have been wrong. But I digress.
Well done, Ann!
There is nothing more satisfying than the sharing the gift of our time and efforts, which are the ultimate gifts of love, we can shower on our loved ones. I used to delight in planning special lunches for my husband and my children with the hopes of surprising and pleasing them, as a way of tucking along a hug and kiss in that paper bag and them knowing that they were sheltered in my love.
It is so painful to watch contemporary young women pine for shallow trinkets and tokens while failing to recognize the most powerful acts of tenderness and kindness and care that the men in their lives shower on them, and their inability to accept these gifts of value beyond measure with grace.
“Feminism” is dying a slow death, but it will eventually expire, not soon enough for my taste.
I found this an interesting video…pardon the poor language.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UxpVwBzFAkw