Best Story of the Week…October 15th
here’s lookin’ at you kid, as they continue their stroll, while I make my way to the Apple Store.Β Β
This entry was posted in Beauty, Culture, Fashion, humanity, inspiration, Love, New York City, Women and men, words, writing and tagged Casablanca, Classic Dress, Famous Hot Screen Kisses, hand holding, Love at any age, older couples still in love. Bookmark the permalink.
Beautiful. Thank you. π
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Thank you. Was a pleasure to write, remembering it.
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Heartwarming, Susannah. So often it seems that the wealthy have trouble with true love, at least with the one to whom they are married (ha ha).
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They were lovers alright. I mean, you could’a lit a match off of them Skinny. π
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I’ve got the feeling you enjoyed this scene even more than you appear to in this post.
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I did. It restored my faith reminding me that, love bats last. π
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Interesting baseball analogy
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I knew you’d like that. π
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What a beautiful thing to witness! (Speaking of forever love…)
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Lifted me right up.
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As it would anyone with a heart!
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Romance, it’s what I miss. Oh well.
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Oh man… tell me about it…
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It’s that frosting i miss. That first charge, like your heart’s been jump started.
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Oh God, yeah… sigh.
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Sigh
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Sweet scene. Thanks for sharing.
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Thanks for reading.
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There you go again: giving me hope for mankind. Sheesh
π
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Hello stranger. Always love your little photo half concealed. π
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aww, shucks
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Well put. π
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I’ve been extremely misty-eyed today; one year ago today the love of my life Michael left this earthly home for the ‘best place’. This couple you were privileged to witness charging their batteries reminded me of us. M would do that to me and even days before his death he had extremely passionate kisses to lay on my happy lips! We were ‘hand-holders’ and people commented they wished they were ‘like us’. Love does bat last…like God. Thanks for posting this. Love it…and it made my day!
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Those memories will stay with you, always. I just finished a book you’d like called, Must You Go, My Life With Harold Pinter, by Antonia Fraser, written in diary form. It’s romance can’t be rivaled, well, except perhaps, with yours and Michael’s. π
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I’m laughing now, remembering our passions. We had four baby boys in five years…the last one was conceived on a floating dock in the middle of a huge lake in the middle of the night. We were ‘close’, you might say! It was loverly loving. Oh, the 67 years of love we had…sweetness.
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I’m blushing.
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I’m late reading posts today, but this was uplifting when I was ready for a smile.
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What do ya mean you’re late? You could be doing more exciting things like playing with John. π
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I was doing exciting things. A hiking friend of son John $ called the day before, asking to stop by on his way home from a hike. We didn’t know if he would stay the π. He did, and I walked the dog at 7:00 am. When I got back, $ was cooking breakfast. David appeared, needing to eat before going to work. Luckily, $ and I work well together in the kitchen. As we ate, the lawn guys started mowing. The guest left. $ maneuvered David’s car around the large mower’s truck, and David was only 10 minutes late for work. Husband missed the hubbub, playing with trains in TN.
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You’re a very busy, not to mention, in demand, woman. Must be nice to be so needed. π
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That’s life in our house. There is nearly always something unexpected going on.
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So you’re never bored. There’s something to be said for that. π
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I was last bored in the summer of 1982. We had driven across the state of Tennessee and were waiting for John’s cousin in his driveway. It was about 100 degrees. John took a nap, and I entertained three children, one only two years old. We looked for distinctive pieces of gravel — color and shape.
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That made me laugh. I’ll bet those children loved you.
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The children were hot, sweaty, and tired. I should tell them the tale now and see if I get any sympathy!
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It’s all in one’s prospective. I’m very impressed…gravel. How innovative Anne. π
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I’d call it desperation. There wasn’t anything else. I just had an idea, though. I should have looked for an outside hose. John’s cousin might have gotten upset, but we could have played in water and stayed cool. I might even have taken a photo of the event!
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Hindsight is nice, but so moot. I like what you did, it was more inventive.
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How steamy! What a great scene and so well written.
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They left quite an impression. They were clearly smitten with one another. I later thought, maybe they’ve just met, online. Our imagination knows no bounds. I do prefer thinking, it was an old, cherished union I was lucky enough to see. π
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Off topic – but I posted at Sorryless today.
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I was there. Just didn’t comment. Had a silent day.
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You must remember this, a smooch is coochie coo . .
Passion never has to be difficult. It’s nice to see people who abide to the beautiful larceny of a stolen kiss in broad daylight.
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My favorite sign of affection is holding hands, with someone who floats your boat that is. My last great amour was a guitarist who had…has…the most elegant, beautiful fingers that, just a mere glimpse would send me in a first class swoon. No hands, since, have ever been held, a hard act to follow, so to speak. We’ll call that, extremities to the extreme. sigh
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I agree. Holding hands, there are so many wonderful things going on in the doing.
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Ever see Sleepless in Seattle? It’s a favorite film of mine, and one of Nora Ephron’s best. There’s a whole theme goin’ on about holding hands. sigh
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I sure did.
Holding hands is like smiling. Anyone who would have a problem with it just doesn’t have a soul.
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Pull that. A stellar statement if there ever was one. π
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Separate file, same floor. Meet ya at Pete’s . . .
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I’ll be at the bar. π
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I’ll take a club soda if you get there ahead of me.
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I’m on the wagon too, remember, so the bartender won’t be too pleased, but we’ll over tip. Surprise him. π
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Between that and our witty banter, he’ll be just fine.
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Love…witty banter. Great name for a play.
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Yanno, you ain’t wrong on that one
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Yanno, I know. π
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