Comments on: Spring Fever – Contest With Prizes!

By: Honey

Honey — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 03:37:27 +0000

Check yourself before you WRECK yourself:

http://honeyandlance.com/spring-chicken-birthday-celebrations

Honey´s last blog post..Spring Chicken: Birthday Celebrations!

By: Janet

Janet — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 02:58:48 +0000

At long last...my post is up! :) Great idea, David. Janet´s last blog post..Lost and Found.

By: The Exception

The Exception — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 23:05:17 +0000

Does this work - it is short but could only happen in spring: A breeze blows lightly through the open window tickling bare skin as it moves across my body. I pull the quilt up a bit more and curl more closely to the warmth beside me. Eyes not open, I appreciate the moment - that moment before the day begins. I know that the sun is breaking through the clouds and peaking over the horizon. Its rays are adding depth and color to the world; the world which I am putting off for just a few more moments. The birds sing lightly and I breathe deeply. The smell of the morning, the dewy grass, and the refreshing breeze mix with the scent of human warmth. I stretch and role to face the body next to mine. A touch here, a nibble there, light kisses... warmth generated... Let the Day Begin... The Exception´s last blog post..Still Waters Run Deep (or Whether or not I am a Flirt)

By: Eathan

Eathan — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 22:07:47 +0000

Well my Spring Fever post is up and it's official.. I'm in the contest. Be aware that my post will get your blood pumping. (it had mine going) :D P.S. Leave a comment please. Eathan´s last blog post..Spring Fling ‘09

By: Susan

Susan — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 14:11:42 +0000

Oh, my. One day to go. I'll see what I can cook up in the next 24 hours! I used to be so ahead of schedule...sigh. But I am getting better at whipping stuff up at last minute :) Susan´s last blog post..I do, take two

By: dadshouse

dadshouse — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 05:50:36 +0000

Krn – beautiful, mysterious, flowing.. very nice.

By: krn

krn — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 03:09:59 +0000

I’m in. Be gentle with me, Dad’s. This ‘lil masterpiece might explain why I don’t blog. I usually write long, dry, heavily referenced healthcare pieces and had no idea my other style was Cheesy Romance 101. LOL and uhhh, thanks for inspiring me. It was slightly cathartic, anyway.

Twelve Springs Eve

Tonight. Twelve years later. How strange that I feel so happy. Dressing with such care and confidence. For myself and for this man. This new man. This tall, strong man with the soothing voice and strangely perfect hands. Hands that I want to know.

I remember. So long ago. I wanted the other man to be sorry. Sorry for her. Sorry for thier children. Sorry for himself. Sorry for being dishonest to someone who had begun to trust him and care. We had built the beginning of something that might have been good. We had taken time. We had talked. Whispered secrets even, heads pressed together, eyes closed, bodies silently still, breathing a shared rate, slow rhythm. We had played and laughed and ate and sunned ourselves, side by side. Hand in hand.

Mindlessly, I traced the lines in the back of his hand with my finger slowly, gently, lovingly. That same hand, part of the man she promised to have and to hold ‘til death. A psychologist and loyal wife of over twenty-five years. Through coincidence, I learned of her. Their three children. The family home. The business he built to secure an easy future for them all. It was time to let him know that I knew and that it mattered to me and that I knew it mattered to them. It should have mattered to him, too. I wasn’t angry. Just sad. Sad about the emptiness, longing and selfishness that led him to me. Away from them.

Twelve years ago in the car, I rehearsed carefully chosen words. Locked my car, stood tall in my heels and walked with strength, confidence and purpose. To our favorite meeting place. Calm and focused, unaware of anything else, I walked the steps to him. When I felt someone grab my hand and catch me around the waist, instinctively I shot a sharp glance, a warning. I felt his eyes scan my legs, heard his flirtatious sigh.

But, it was Tony instead. Funny Tony. Questioning Tony. Tony with a friend. A stranger. With deeply intelligent, yet sparkling eyes. Eyes slightly creased by the sun. Or the wind. Or something else. Something other than time. Eyes locked. Breath held. Caught. We started to talk at the same time. Both of us stopped mid syllable. Laughed nervously. Smiled. Knew. Tony who would walk me down the aisle to him six months later. Squeezing my hand. Kissing it before placing it those hands. My husband’s hands. The hands that held mine and promised to stay ‘til death. The hands that like the other man I knew before him, took another woman’s hands and made other promises. While we were married. The father of my child’s hands did that. The hands that were the first hands to ever hold our tiny baby’s hands.

Tonight as I finish dressing, I wonder about this new man’s hands. The strangely perfect hands that I want in mine. I don’t want promises. I just want to trace the lines on the back of these new hands and listen to his soothing voice carefully. Carefully, yet happily, on this spring eve. Twelve Springs Eve.