Bettina at Dances to the Beet of her own Drum hosts Screw-Up-Tuesday every - well, every Tuesday, really.
And as is my wont, I will combine that with the inspiration from several blogs I have read of late, that lament the fact that old married women seem to want their husbands to lessen the frequency and intensity of their ardour. It is a blues tune that I have also heard in real life, so I figure it must be a real phenomenon.
One of the upsides of not having found and married some high school sweetheart, I suppose, is that this has never been my experience.
By pure accident, it seems I found the answer to many of these women's prayers this week.
I love garlic. So does my honey. However, after his stomach went ballistic after our last feast of roasted garlic and onions a few weeks ago, he has been a little more tentative on the garlic front.
On Saturday, after a day that had a sort of sleepwalking through molasses quality, I prepared a feast of pork chops and roast vegetables. It was divine, even if I say so myself. Knowing V was reticent about the garlic component, I only roasted enough for me to taste that sweet nectar.
V, however, was not so sweet several hours later when, going in for a kiss in front of the Saturday evening entertainment he baulked and exclaimed "whoa, phew!!!"
He did attempt to make up for such bad manners, but the moment had been lost - and a word to the wise - holding your breath while going in for a kiss does not increase the desire of EITHER party.
So - my loss, the world's gain - if you have intentions of keeping the vampires and unwanted amorous attention at bay, I heartily recommend garlic - unfortunately.