Monthly Archives: February 2014

It’s a “Dammit Doll” Kind of Day

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Dammit DollIsn’t she lovely, isn’t she wonderful, my little “Dammit Doll”.  Her little tag says, “whenever things don’t go so well, and you want to hit the wall and yell, here’s a little dammit doll, that you can’t do without.  Just grasp it firmly by the legs and find a place to slam it.  And as you whack the stuffing out yell “DAMMIT! DAMMIT! DAMMIT!.” 

Bless her little heart.  Many days I don’t even know she exists.  She just sits really pretty off to the side of my desk, hanging out, listening to me answer the phone, or talk to people who are in my office.  She never says a word when I am having trouble with my computer and something isn’t working just right.  She never says anything about what she hears people say, or what she hear’s me say for that matter [Thanks be to God].  Then there are those times when I can’t find a document that is buried under the rubble of my desk, or a phone number I need which is on some little teeny tiny piece of paper that is eluding me.  She can feel my frustration but she just waits patiently.  She stands tall, keeping a stiff upper lip and when I need her, by golly she’s there.  Never judgemental, never trying to “talk me down”, just knowing that when it’s time, she has a job to do and she is happy to do it. Dammit Doll 2

My doll has done such a great job for me, that I have coworkers that have gone out and gotten their own dolls.  My doll now has collegues.  Today I had to chuckle when my closest coworker looked at me from across the room as she was “shaking” her doll.  Guess it’s been a day over in her office too.  Is there a full moon? 

I’d like to say that today I held it together and my doll wasn’t needed, BUT SHE WAS!  DAMMIT, DAMMIT DAMMIT!  Well I feel better and so does she.  Tomorrow will be a better day, and if it’s not, well I know what I can do.

Bowling – A Lost Love

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imageOnce upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a little girl who loved to bowl.  Yes bowl.  And it wasn’t really in a land far far away, but right here in my home town at Tenpin Lanes.  I spent the first almost 50 years of my life in a bowling alley.  My dad ran the bowling alley in our town so I spent almost every day there.  He would take me to work with him for a few hours when I was little and he would just put me on a lane with a ball and I would entertain myself for quite a while.  When I got into elementary school, we actually had a school bowling league.  The bowling bus would pick us up at Charles Evans Elementary every Monday after school and take about 30 of us to Tenpin Lanes and we would have a great time.  I still remember my first bowling ball, it was all of nine pounds, was black and had a red ace on it.  Wooohooo.  Over the next few years I honed in on my sport and my new 10 pound ball was purple.  That was after all Donnie Osmond’s favorite color.  Quickly I moved to an 11 pound coral colored ball and then on to a gold glittery 12 pound ball.  Hey, I’ve always liked color and sparkle.

My next move was to learn the correct approach and develop an actual bowling style.  No more running up to the foul line and throwing the ball as hard as I could with a back handed spin.  It was time for a four-step approach and a finger-tip ball.  Made all the difference in the world.  Now I’m a contender.  I told myself that someday I would be on TV as a professional woman bowler and maybe I could have.

All through junior high, high school and college I competed.  I loved it.  It was my absolute passion.  One of my best friends was also as crazy about bowling as I was and we bowled together every day and went to tournaments together.  For a short while we even bowled together in college before I changed schools.  I ended my collegiate career at Oklahoma State University as a bowling Cowgirl.  It was awesome.  She went on to compete as a professional woman bowler appearing on national television.  I have always been so proud of her.

I decided in college that I would rather get married and be a mom than travel the country working to make a living on the women’s professional bowling tour.  I would like to think that I could have made it, but who knows.  I continued to bowl league in the cities I lived in and when the kids and I moved back to Oklahoma, I joined a league with some girlfriends and we even went to our state tournaments.  It was enjoyable and I had a good time.

Not long after the kids and I moved back to my home town in 1991, the owners of my home town bowling alley, the people who employed my father, decided to sell out.  The new owners wanted to hire someone else to run it so my dad retired after 33 years.  They really should have let my dad stay because he was truly a legend in town and my local center went downhill afteLonie Haralsonr that.  I quit bowling for several years because it was just too hard to be there watching the place I loved so much be destroyed by someone who had no idea what they were doing.  I told my girlfriends, when the bowling alley sells and “they” are no longer involved, call me and I’ll come back.

Eventually it did sell, I got the call and I returned.  The local lanes changed hands many more times and the equipment was constantly breaking, the owner was not local and he kept hiring people to run the place that AGAIN, didn’t know what they were doing.  Our little Monday night league got down to 5 teams and I had had enough.  I hung it up about 5 years ago and haven’t looked back, until…..

Rumours have been swirling around town that a new bowling alley is going to be built.  Dare I dream, dare I hope.  What is this excitement in me?  Why do I feel this way?  What is going on?  Could it be that I could once again participate in something that at one time meant so much to me?  All these years I really didn’t care if I ever bowled again.  There was just no joy, no spark, no nothing.  It was something that was so tightly woven into the very fabric of my being and something that is my constant reminder of my dad, who passed away this past August.  In some way, I think my excitement about the possibility of bowling again will make me feel close to him again, will lessen the hurt and will keep him always on my mind and in my heart.  He would be so excited to know that we might get a new bowling alley, and he would be very proud of me for trying again.

So let’s get after it and get this thing built!

Valentine’s Day – Coming Full Circle

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VolcanoRemember when you were just a kid and it was Valentine’s Day at school?  I do.  I remember getting little white sacks and then drawing something cute on the front with my name on it.  Maybe in art class we would create little heart cutouts and paste them onto the sacks.  It was important to get that little sack just right.  Then we would all hang our sacks on the tray of the chalkboard so we would be ready when it was time to hand out our cards.  Going to TG&Y with my mom was always fun too.  I would very carefully pick out the cards that had just the right sentiment.  Of course they all came in one package, but the words had to be just right.

There were always a couple of little boys in my class that I thought were cute, and I had to give them the right card didn’t I?  Then the pressure and excitement of waiting to see what cards those little boys put into my sack.  Would it say, “be mine”, “love you”, “your great” or “your friend”.  I would hold my breath every year to see what card the boy of the moment was going to put in my sack.  Some years I was happy and some years, well you know how little boys are.  Some years there were little boys who put “be mine” in my sack and I thought, “no way” buddy.  It felt so literal.  Just one little card and I thought it meant something much more than it probably did.  At least that’s how it felt to this elementary little girl.

Then we grow up and Valentine’s day is not quite what it used to be.  Some of us marry men who don’t care what day it is and certainly are not going to acknowlege that it’s Valentine’s Day.  They don’t acknowledge their love for you at any other time of the year either.  Heck, communication of any kind is a foreign concept.  Then you have children and they make you Valentine’s cards and you get them cards.  Your love for your children can cover that hole in your heart for a very long time.  It certainly worked that way for me.

Then you find yourself as a single mom with two small children.  While it is a very hard job, my love for them and their love for me kept me going.  Again, they made me cards and I had fun helping them pick out just the right cards for their school Valentine’s parties.  At work you would see co-workers who would get flowers, candy or boast of big plans for Valentine’s day with their sweeties.  I wondered, what would that be like?  I mean the only time a man had ever given me roses, I had to give birth and I think his mom made him get them for me.  Year after year I wondered.

In 2004 I met a man, we started dating and in 2008 he married me and made me Queen of my Kingdom.  He buys me flowers for no reason, he buys me flowers for anniversaries, he buys me flowers for Valentine’s Day.  Wow, what is this?  Now I’m the girl at work getting flowers.    But what I have learned over the past nine years and ten months that we have been together is that every day is Valentine’s Day for us.  We hold hands when we walk together, we profess our love verbally to each other many times a day (and mean it each time).  Our actions with one another clearly show our love, respect and admiration for one another.  We are each other’s best friend and the one we most want to spend our time with.  So while getting those flowers has been awesome, the real gift is the man behind it.  Thank you Keith for being my valentine every day.  It is my honor to be your wife.

How Things Have Changed

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imageThis is Mimi’s last day of babysitting.  Mom and Dad will be home this evening.  I think I have done a little better with this “stay at home mom” stuff.  Last June when I came out and babysat, I couldn’t get anything done.  I  no more got done with breakfast than it was time for lunch.  Dishes were piling up, laundry wasn’t happening, certainly didn’t have time to shower and I was exhausted by the end of the day.  I thought my daughter was crazy for even attempting it.  It truly is the hardest job in the world.

Some things have changed since then.  I am getting the hang of this stay at home mom stuff better.  Dishes are done after each meal, a little laundry going each morning, I get a shower “most” days and attitudes with Max and Molly have changed.

Last June, Molly was busy and into everything and I had to watch her like a hawk to keep her out of things.  Max was a little “match head”.  Say the wrong thing or not say the wrong thing and his emotions might blow through the roof and did.  Here I am now 8 months later with a more mature Max and someone going through the terrible two’s.

Max and I have always had a special relationship.  He is my first grand child after all.  I think I have treated him a lot like I treated his mom.  I never used baby talk with this mother and I always talked to her like she was an adult.  You could have a conversation with her at a very young age.  Same goes for Max. We have some great conversations.  I never quite know where they are going, but we discuss all kinds of things and he get’s it.  He always does well when it’s just the two of us, even though he can have his moments.  This time, it’s like a completely different child.  I barely saw the Max of old.  He has been helpful, cooperative and a lot of fun.  We went bowling yesterday and had a blast.  Something I can’t wait to do with him again, but without his sister next time.  We both agree on this point, she was a bit of a wet blanket yesterday at the bowling alley.  Not something either of us ever want to repeat.

Eight months ago Molly kept me busy by letting the pugs out, playing in toilette water and just being cute and innocent, learning her way through the world.  This time she has developed an attitude like I have never seen.  You still see the fun adorable little girl but you also get Miss Attitude.  Some of my favorite things:  When she says, “I’m so mad at you”, storms off into her room and slams the door.  Two minutes later she’s back saying sorry Mimi, I wub you.  What was that?  Before I even figure our why she is “so mad at me”, she’s back apologizing.  Yesterday it took me four tries to find the right shirt.  One was to small, one was too itchy, and one was just “NO!”  She is not very fond of the word ‘no” and apparently I say it a lot.  I try to disguise it by using a different approach, “let’s not do that,” let’s try this, “let’s go over here”, still means “no” to her and still gets the same reaction.  Usually a look that could make you back up followed by a quick “hit” to some part of your body.  Whatever she can reach.  When she “taps” me I “tap” back and boy does that make her mad.  Kind of fun to watch though.  Last night we were battling to get on PJ’s and I mean battling.  I eventually got them on her, but took a quick blow to the head and she took a quick time out to think about it.  I take comfort in knowing, this too shall pass.

Tomorrow I travel back home and know that I will miss my little angels terribly.  I always love getting to come and spend quality time with them alone.  It really gives us an opportunity to bond, even when Molly is “so mad at me”.  They are blessing and I love every minute of it.

Until next time ……

Sleeping with Pugs

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imageNot only am I in Arkansas to take care of Max and Molly but also my grand pugs:  Conan, Nana and Zeppelin.  They are quite the trio and last night I had the “honor” and I use that term very loosely, to share a bed with them.  My daughter insisted that I sleep in her room while they were gone in case Max gets up at night and I can hear Molly on the monitor.  I really think she wanted me in there so the “pug’s” routine didn’t change.  Reluctantly I agreed.  I love the the guest room and the bed is very comfortable.  I sleep like the dead in there.  [FYI Loni & Charles:  PLEASE BUY A NEW MATTRESS FOR YOUR ROOM]

Now sleeping with pugs shouldn’t be that big of a deal, I sleep with two Cavaliers at home in our king-size bed.  What’s three pugs in a king-size bed?  I finally got both kids to sleep last night and it was time for Mimi to lay down her weary head.  Zeppelin, the very large black pug saw me heading for the bedroom and he couldn’t get there fast enough, leaping into the bed with absolutely no effort.  He was ready.  He may be the biggest of the three, but he can jump like a gazelle.  Now Nana is a wee bit of a girl and you have to pick her up and put her in bed, which I did.  Then there’s Conan, the middle child.  I have seen him jump onto that bed many times and many times yesterday alone, with no help from anyone.  I slide into bed, got situated and there’s Conan sitting on the floor looking at me with a very pitiful look.  Get up here I say to him.  He just keeps looking at me batting his eyes.  Again I say, get up here.  Nothing.  I had to get up, pick him up and put him in bed.  What a baby.  I think he played me.

Now I’m scrunching my pillow and trying to get comfy when all three dogs are trying to get under the covers.  Apparently that’s their routine.  Ok, get under the covers.  Now “the Nan” heads to the far corner of the bed and all I can see is her small lump.  The other two, well they have to be touching me.  One around my knees and the other one, Zeppelin the big man, wants to lay his head on my shoulder.  Geez.  We finally all fell asleep but a few hours later I woke up and needed to turn over.  Nowhere to turn, trapped in by pugs.  I pushed and shoved and finally maneuvered them a bit and went back to sleep.  Next thing I know I am being awakened by the sound of snoring.  Who’s snoring?  What’s that?  I can “feel” the snore.  I opened my eyes to find Zeppelin with his head on my shoulder, sleeping away, FACING ME and yes snoring very loudly.

Obviously, I didn’t get a very good night’s rest and I only have to sleep with them one more night.  Sigh…..  Looking forward to moving back into the guest room tomorrow night.

Golly Miss Molly

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DSC_2829Look at this face.  Angelic, adorable, sweet and innocent.  Well ….. she is two and today I’m reminded of the phrase, “terrible two’s”.  It’s like two different people in one tiny body, one sweet and one, well not so sweet.  I think I’ll name her two personalities:  Molly [sweet and all things wonderful] and Jolly [everything else].

Molly got up at 7:50 this morning.  Happy and smiling.  We at banana nut muffins that Max and I made and all was good.  Then it was time to feed the dogs, which apparently takes all three of us to do.  Jolly tried to come out during this time but I used a little “strategy” and I kept her at bay.  Then I asked Molly if she was ready to get dressed for the day.  Her adorable little face smiling and saying “yes”.  As we finished putting on her clothes she looked at me and announced she was ready to go outside.  It’s 20 degrees here with snow coming this afternoon so we will not be going outside.  I very gently said, oh Molly it’s too cold right now.  Well out pops Jolly, who muttered something [I can’t understand her completely yet] and she stormed out of her room into Max’s room and slammed the door.  WHEW!   What was that?   I just left her in there.  Two minutes later she comes and finds me in the kitchen and says, “i wub you Mimi”.  Oh and it’s only 9 a.m.

Just Got to Use a Little “Strategory”

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IMG_6605Now we all know that having a little sister has its good moments and not so good moments.  Just ask Max.  Usually on the first day I arrive in Little Rock, both kids NEED my attention and it is usually a losing battle.  I do my best to do something with both separately and together.  But there are times in a young man’s little life that it is just NOT a good thing to have a little sister.

Max is a very smart young man, but sometimes he let’s his emotions get the better of him.  After a few hours yesterday of listening to him unravel when his sister would do something to ignite his emotions, I thought it’s time for Max and Mimi to have a chat.  Max went in and got out the Legos last night and we were building things.  Well guess who else wanted to build things and guess who didn’t want her to build things.  It’s a never ending cycle.  Just about the time we would have our masterpiece close to completion, in comes Molly.  Grabbing the Legos and not sharing [imagine that].  Max was not having it and he was gearing up for a meltdown.  Never fear, Mimi to the rescue.

Mimi:  Max, you need to learn how to handle your sister.  You are the BIG brother aren’t you?
Max:  Right, I AM the BIG brother.
Mimi:  Then you need to use some “strategory”  [A George Bush word, forgive me].
Max:  What’s that Mimi?
Mimi:  The next time Molly grabs your blocks very gently say to her, “that’s ok Molly, you can have it, I don’t need it.”
Max:  That’s not going to work Mimi.
Mimi:  Try it, what do you have to lose?

Within just a few minutes Molly is back yanking up the blocks and wreaking havoc again.  Max and I made eye contact and I said, try it.   

Max:  That’s ok Molly, you can have it, I didn’t want it anyway.

What happened next?  She put it down immediately and moved on to something else.  Max looked at me like he had just won the lottery.  See, it works.  You have to take charge of the situations and outsmart her.  You are the big brother, right?

Right Mimi……

33 Years Ago Today — An Amazing Thing Happened

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DSC_2910

Today is my daughter’s 33rd birthday.  I know she is cringing at the thought of that and so am I!  So today I am running my blog again from last year when she turned 32.  Sentiment is still the same.  I love you Loni bunny!

Enjoy!

Today is my daughter’s birthday.  Each year on this day, February 6, I seem to spend a lot of time thinking about our relationship.  You see my daughter has been more than just a daughter.  Without even knowing it, she was my rock and the one person who got me through some very difficult times, just by being there. It began 32 years ago at 9:48 a.m., on a cold snowy day in Oklahoma City.  Oddly enough, it is a cold and snowy day today too as I head for Dallas to board a plane to go and visit her.  In 1982, I was a scared 22 year old about to become a mother and be responsible for someone else’s life.  I had no idea what to expect and then there she was. She didn’t even come into the world as I had expected.  Every movie and every TV show I had seen where babies had been born, they all came into the world angry and screaming. Not my daughter.  She entered the world quietly with those big blue eyes and little round face.  She was placed into my arms and from that moment, she had my heart and my soul.  Nothing else mattered. She was born 8 months after her dad and I married.  Nothing like finding out one month after your married that you are two months pregnant.  For the record, I don’t recommend it.  Those eight months were difficult.  My marriage was rocky and I wasn’t even sure her dad and I would still be together when she got here.  From the start we were glued at the hip.  Her dad was afraid to do much with her at first.  You know the whole “she might cry” thing, and he certainly wasn’t going to change a diaper.  And you know, he never did.  If I went to the grocery store, she went to the grocery store.  When it was laundry day, I packed her up we went to the laundry mat. Not long after her ninth birthday, her dad and I decided to split up and we moved back to my home town to be near my parents.  I was now a single mother of a 9 year old and a 3 year old.  She took it in stride as we began our new adventure.  She made friends quickly and she loved living in the same town with my parents.  I always say that my dad was kind of like her dad too.  We shared him and he loved it. Three years after my divorce and I met someone and was going to marry him.  She told me I should not marry him and I should have listened to her.  But what does a 12 year old know.  A lot apparently.  The next five years were very difficult for us both.  She was unhappy and I was unhappy.  We refer to that period of time as “that five year period of time we don’t talk about”, and we don’t.  That’s an entire blog in itself.  Maybe someday. When I finally got the guts to get out of the so-called marriage, I got my girl back and we never looked back again.  We have continued to grow closer as we age.  I can absolutely call her my best girl friend in the whole  world. She was even my matron of honor at my wedding to Keith. That one she did approve of, even if I did meet him online. I am blessed that we get to talk on the phone many times a day, we can send pictures and text messages and we have Face Time and when I’m really lucky, I get to see her in person, like today. She is married now with a wonderful little family of her own, 5 year old Max, 2 year old Molly and her wonderful husband Charles.  It was my honor to be with her and Charles in the delivery room for the birth of both Max and Molly, something I will always hold very dear in my heart.  I am blessed to have her as my daughter and I love her more than words can ever say.  She and Charles are going to get away for a few days and I will get to spend three whole days with Max and Molly.  Some interesting blogs could come from this.  We’ll see.  I love you Loni Bunny .

It’s Funny How Your Senses Work

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GalvestonIn early 2009, nine short months after we got married, my husband was diagnosed with cancer.  From February of that year until his final cancer treatment on April 24 [yes I know the exact day], we were at MD Anderson in Houston, Texas beating cancer’s butt.

We traveled back and forth for many weeks from Ardmore to Houston until Keith got his official treatment plan and start date.  Once the plan was ready to put into action, we were more or less residents of Houston for the next 6-7 weeks.  We began our little adventure in a small, extended-stay motel just blocks from the medical center.  Keith felt pretty good and wanted to walk to the medical center until he couldn’t any more.  We went to the grocery store and bought a little food, snack stuff, drinks and garbage bags.  Scented garbage bags apparently.

During the last three weeks of our stay, we were fortunate enough to be in a fully-furnished apartment.  Houston has a wonderful church ministry there that has several churches that go together to provide cancer patients with “affordable” and nice housing for their stay at the medical center.  I found out about it late so we only were able to utilize the opportunity for our last three weeks, but those were the weeks where Keith really needed some place quiet and more like home to recover.  The last few weeks of anyone’s cancer treatments are usually the hardest and Keith was no exception.

When we moved to the little apartment, we packed up everything from the extended stay and took with us, to include the big box of scented trash bags.  I continued to be nurse, maid and wife, which included taking out the garbage.  No big deal.  It had to be done, happy to do it.

Months later, we are back home, Keith is healing well and thoughts of our 3 months in Houston are beginning to seem very distant, until one day…..  I just happened to be in the kitchen when it was time to change out the garbage so I whipped out a new garbage bag and WHAMMO it hit me.  The smell of the “scented” garbage bag.  OMG!  It was the same scented garbage bag smell as the scented bags in Houston.  All at once I got nauseous and was right back in Houston in the middle of a very difficult time.   My mouth started sweating and I felt sick all over.  A cold sweat broke out on my forehead.  My palms got sweaty.  I backed away and had to get some fresh air.

Now Keith is the grocery shopper most of the time in our house so I found him quickly and said, PLEASE no more scented garbage bags.  He got a very curious look on his face and I simply said, reminds me of our time in Houston.  That was all I needed to say and he agreed, no more scented garbage bags.

Now here I am in 2014, I am going through some drawers and throwing some stuff away and I need a garbage bag.   You guessed it; apparently we still had some of those “scented” bags.  I whipped the bag out of the box and shook it open and WHAMMO, here we go again.  Houston, I think we have a problem.

You Can Find Love Online

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BlogYes it’s true.  A little over ten years ago I got curious about online dating.  Not really wanting to try it, just curious.  I mean I had heard of it.  I had even heard of people who had success and a few that did not.  For instance:  my daughter had a friend in high school whose mother left her entire family to be with some guy she met online.  I mean sight unseen, left her husband and children and moved clear across the country to be with him.

So I was surfing the web one Saturday afternoon.  Our search engine at the time was Yahoo and I had been looking at puppies and the entertainment section when I noticed a tab that said “personals”.  Hmmmm; interesting; looks simple enough.  Just put in a few tidbits of information and it would find matches for you.  They had three quick little questions.  1) Man or Woman, 2) Age Range, and 3) How many miles away from your ZIP code do you want to search.  Seems simple enough, wonder what would come up if I put in some info?

I entered my info:  looking for a man, 4-6 years older than me and within 10 miles of my ZIP code.  With a quick click about 15 pictures popped up.  Each had a photo and then a “profile”, which really was their marketing plan.  I actually recognized a couple of them and thought YUK and NO WAY.  But there close to the top was a picture of a very attractive, professional-looking man.  I was mesmerized.  He had the most fabulous smile I had ever seen.  He was wearing a suit and it looked like he always wore a suit.

As I looked at this picture I wondered, what’s wrong with him.  Why is he on a dating site?  Then I thought, why am “I” on a dating site and what’s wrong with me.  Shook those thoughts off and decided to go take a peek at his profile information.  Harmless enough right?  I read it and reread it and reread it.  The man was perfect for me, so again, what’s wrong with him and again, what’s wrong with me.

At this point I thought I needed a second opinion, that of my 21 year old daughter who was home visiting for the weekend.  Now this could go one of two ways.  She could say, “Cool mom, you are finally getting out there again, good for you.” Or the way it actually went.

Me:  Come look at this picture and tell me what you think.
Daughter:  Mother, what are you doing?
Me:  I’m not doing anything, look at the picture. What do you think?
Daughter:  Where are you?  What are you doing?
Me:  I’m not doing anything, look at the picture and tell me what you think.
Daughter:  Mother, you are not going to date some guy online.  Do you not remember what happened to TJ’s family!
Me:  Yes, I remember.  I’m not dating anyone, just look at the picture!
Daughter:  He’s nice looking, but you are not dating someone online.

Yep, it went the other way.

Well my daughter goes home the next day and I spend the next two weeks looking at the picture of this man and reading his “marketing plan”.  This was so scary.  I can’t really email him can I?  I can’t really take a chance, can I?  What if he thinks I’m hideous?  What if I don’t hear back?  Oh the “what ifs”.  I had been single for 6 years and I really was ok with it, but his picture, his profile, that smile.  What if he is truly “the one” and here I sit on my duff and do nothing. I mean it’s scary to put yourself out there.  I hadn’t exactly made great choices in my previous relationships.  Ask my daughter.

Two weeks later on a Saturday afternoon I put on my big girl panties and finally mustered up some courage, got out my credit card, invested $19.95 and emailed him!  Then I called my daughter in OKC fully prepared for her wrath, but needing someone to give me some encouragement.  She was after all my best gal pal.

Me:  Hey, remember that picture I showed you two weeks ago.
Daughter:  Yes, why.
Me:  I emailed him.
Daughter:  You did what!  …… A short pause, then, have you heard from him??????
Me:  I just emailed him, not two minutes ago.  Give it some time.
Daughter:  Let me know.

Two days later, yes I heard from him.  It’s been magical and the best $19.95 investment of my life.  By the way, he was “the one”.