Lynn Kellan's Blog

This week in romance

I saw him with another woman! There I was, standing on the front porch, holding his varsity sweater, and he was cuddling some grinning girl who carried a tennis racquet everywhere she went!!

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I dropped his sweater and ran away, but they chased me. Ronnie said he wanted to apologize, that he hadn’t meant to fall in love with the captain of the women’s tennis team but gosh, she had such a great serve.

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I dyed my hair blonde and accepted his apology because I was damned tired of doing his laundry. I graduated from college and went to graduate school. On my way to my dissertation defense, guess who I saw?

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Ronnie and Terry had just gotten married. I wept tears of joy because I realized I loved microeconomic algorithms so much more than ironing Ronnie’s socks. I felt sorry for Terry, who’d traded her tennis racquet for an unfortunate last name. Yep, she’s now Mrs. Terry Cloth.

I got a fabulous job writing algorithms, saved the world three times, and then dyed my hair red again. While I was presenting the keynote address at a conference, I met a man who hated tennis and enjoyed doing his own laundry.

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I was insanely happy before I met him and now I’m insanely happy every time he takes me for romantic walks in the rain without an umbrella…but I have a feeling that’s not how romances were written in the 1950’s!

I found these romance comics during my first trip to an antiques store, and I might have to return for more!

Happy news. First edition.

I didn’t have to look hard to find some happy news, so I thought I’d share some of that good stuff with you. Here goes:

Tonight (August 13th), if you look into the night sky between 11pm and 3am, you might see the Perseid meteor shower. The bright specks that streak across the sky are tiny pieces from the Swift-Tuttle comet, which orbits the sun every 133 years! (From @Nasa’s Instagram stories.)

A few days ago, the women’s lacrosse team from Kenya didn’t have cleats when they played Israel’s team. Soon after the game, the Israeli team surprised the Kenyan team with brand new cleats, just because! (From @OnHerTurf on Instagram.)

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I found free lollipops at my bank! They’re exactly like the ones I used to enjoy when I was a kid. It was such a treat when the bank teller offered one to us. I discovered that you can buy a big box of these online. Try Staples, and look for “Yummy pops from Washburn Candy Corp.” (Fun fact: they are made in the USA.) There’s just one problem: what flavor to chose? Lemon? Red cherry? Purple grape? Green lime?

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I didn’t know he lived with me.

I had no idea he was in my house. I never saw him, not even when I walked right past him. That’s how well he hid from me. Incredible, right? I mean, how can someone NOT see the strange man in her living room? Let me show you.

First, some backstory. I live in Delaware, the second smallest state in America. Living in a small state is terrifying. If you make a mistake, your blunder follows you everywhere. All of your acquaintances will tell their friends, who will remember that you’re the one who yelled at a prominent lawyer during a high school lacrosse game.

Because I’m embarrassed by all my blunders, I leave Delaware as often as possible. One of my trips took me to Wyoming, which is the 9th largest state and 2,000 miles from home. No one in Jackson Hole knew that I hiccup when I yell at prominent lawyers. The anonymity was fantastic! So were the views. I took this picture of the Teton Mountains while we rafted along the Snake River, right before my nephew fell into the water. (He’s fine.)

This picture hangs over our fireplace. Every time I gaze at it, I remember that wonderful trip. I assumed that my kids liked to look at the picture, too.

WRONG. My daughter sees a man when she looks at the mountains.

Do you see him? He has wise eyes, a regal nose, and a stern mouth. In fact, he looks a lot like the lawyer I confronted at the lacrosse game!

I’m bound to embarrass myself again, so which part of America should I visit next? Please leave a comment. I promise to respond!

What to say…

He enjoyed being mean. I saw his gloating smirk as soon as I entered the bank.

He leaned toward the teller and snarled, “Why are you counting everything again? Do you think I’m trying to cheat you? Jeez, really. Cut me a break.”

She was only doing her job but her fingers stuttered, nervous under his scrutiny. She was young, maybe twenty-three. Small, too. Probably half the size of the man who scoffed at her. Despite his boorish behavior, she couldn’t walk away. He was a customer. She had to treat him well.

That’s the type of situation every bully loves.

“I don’t have all day,” he muttered, turning his head and rolling his eyes so the two people in line could see how unhappy he was to wait.

The woman beside me looked away. She knew he wanted an audience and she wasn’t going to give him one.

I probably should’ve looked away, too, but that gloating smirk of his was too much for me. I wanted to slap it off his face. He was an older man, old enough to be a grandfather, old enough to know that he could choose how he reacted in this situation. He could’ve been kind, but he chose to be cruel.

I glared at him for a long moment and then looked at the wall as though the beige paint was much more interesting than he was.

The bank teller finished the transaction and handed a receipt to him. At this point, I was trying to figure out of I should say something. I really wanted to, but I knew that if I angered him, he might wait outside for me. Things might escalate. So, I decided to swallow my words, but I’m sure my expression said it all. I thought he was a total jerk.

On his way out, he paused next to me and murmured, “Don’t fluster her. She panics.”

Anger pulsed out of me in waves, but I completely ignored him. I acted like he didn’t matter, that his words weren’t worth a reaction. Inside, though, I froze. I wanted to say something, but no words came.

He sauntered away, the self-appointed King of How To Conduct a Bank Transaction.

Ten seconds later, I knew what I should’ve said: “She’s not the problem.” That would’ve been a good response. I wanted to defend her, but failed. I’d failed so badly, the bully decided to speak to me on his way out of the bank.

Later, when I told my husband this story, he shook his head. “No, Lynn, that guy knew you thought he was a jerk. He was trying to convince you that the teller made him act that way. Even though you didn’t say a thing, you got through to him.”

I felt a lot better after hearing that, but I still feel like I didn’t do enough. What is the best way to react in a situation like that?

Hugs, not bugs

I took a walk today and didn’t freeze. However, I did swallow a gnat, which reminded me that warmer weather brings a different set of challenges. At the moment, I’m not upset about swallowing said bug. It tasted like Spring. After the endless winter we’ve all endured, a little bug snack is welcome. Unless it’s a big bug snack. That’s never welcome.

What I’d like to know is: how do I get rid of the bug snacks that are all over my car’s grill? Some of those blotches are from trips taken two years ago. No amount of scrubbing with a sponge can erase those sad memories. I’m tempted to try a pressure washer, but there’s a good chance that thing will peel the paint off my car. The bug blotches will probably still remain.

So, any tips on bug blotch removal from one’s car? My Honda, and the paint on my Honda, look forward to any advice.

Love,

Did you know this?

 

I live close to Maryland, which is known for crabs, so I probably should know more about these delicious little creatures. However, I had no idea that crabs had balls. Nor did I know that crab balls go well with roasted garlic aioli, which makes me wonder what other things go well with aioli, which also makes me hesitant to try aioli under any circumstances, whatsoever.

The end.

Love,

Lynn K.

 

 

Don’t change my baby.

 

I’m scared of Baby Changing Stations. I don’t want to change my baby into something else, and I don’t think anyone else should be changing their babies either. Babies will eventually change themselves. They’ll become doctors and lawyers and mechanics and ballerinas in a few years, so there’s no need to haul our loved ones into a weirdo bathroom with a weirdo Baby Changing Station.

However, if someone installs a Brussel Sprout Changing Station in a weirdo bathroom, I’m hauling my produce in there to see what happens.

Love,

Lynn K.

 

Bow WOW!

 

 

I saw the “MISSING HUSKY” note on the back of a red SUV during a long, boring drive to visit our kid at college. Because I’m a dog lover, I immediately began to look for said missing husky. Didn’t take long before I found it on the back of a truck.

** Moral of the story: If you pay attention, you’ll find stuff that’ll make you laugh.

 

 

How to survive wedded bliss.

 

The year I got married, I read an article written by a woman who’d been married for 50 years. When asked how her marriage lasted so long, she had one piece of advice: accept TEN things that drive you crazy about your partner. If your husband likes to watch superhero movies and you don’t, accept that and find something else to do while he’s viewing Superman for the 5,627th time. If your guy hates to eat out at restaurants, accept that and find something the two of you can enjoy, because here’s the thing: he’s not exactly like you. And you’re not exactly like him. Accepting those differences makes living together a whole lot easier.

The first item I put on the “Ten Things That Drive Me Crazy About My Husband” list was kind of stupid. I couldn’t stand the way he didn’t empty the trash cans in the house on trash day. I talked to him about it and we tried to come up with a better way to handle our chores, but emptying the trash cans wasn’t super important to my husband. Once I put that quirk on my list of things to accept, I felt better. I could let go of my frustration, because I acknowledged that we just didn’t manage trash day the same way.

I still had nine more spaces on my list, but I was a little worried. I’d tacked the “trash day” problem onto my list during our third month of marriage. At this rate, I’d fill up those ten things that drive me crazy list in about two years. What then?

Well, I did add things to that mental list, but I could only remember the first one. That’s probably what that old married lady intended. Once you accept that first small difference, it’s easier to let go of other small differences.

This advice must work. I’ve been married to my husband for 30 years…and I’ve still got nine empty slots on my mental list of things that drive me crazy about him!

 

Love,

Looking forward to 2019

 

Merry Christmas and happy new year! I plan to publish two books in 2019 (maybe even three), so stay tuned. Members of my newsletter list will have the chance to buy my books at a discount. If you’re interested in signing up for the newsletter, visit LynnKellan.com and click on the Fun Newsletter menu tab.