The Duller The Better...

Given that the last post I did was a serious story about our elopement, I thought to follow it up with a tongue-in-cheek piece. The following is an article I wrote in 1986 for a short-lived White Rock magazine. It should be said that while my husband thinks himself to be a dull man. I consider him anything but!

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Looking spiffy in 1986

The Duller The Better…
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Given my choice, I’d take a dull man any day. I won’t deny that types who dress in high style and know the best sushi bar in town have their appeal. I’ve been known to fall for polished looks and a well-rehearsed line; but in the long run, it’s hard to get serious about someone who squeezes you in between his weight lifting and his facial. .

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Life is saner with a dull man. He will not let you spend your evenings alone while he visits the tanning salon or has his hair styled. If he brings home a curling iron, it will be for you, and you will never have to worry about dousing yourself with cologne that turns out to have a hearty, macho name. The only perfume in the house will be yours; likewise the only purse.
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Blind to advertising, the dull man follows no-one’s lead. He remains oblivious to the latest craze, plodding onward in jeans and plaid shirt, while his counterparts rush to buy pastel sweaters and pants with someone else’s name stamped across the behind. .

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His hair has never been spiked, his ear never pierced, His conversations are not sprinkled with tales of his exploits; he’d rather listen to you than talk about himself. He’s more likely to take you on a picnic than a night on the town, impressing you most by not trying to impress you at all.
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This man may light few fires in the world but he’s the one that keeps them burning. His money is spent on braces for his kids, not on payments for a Porsche. He goes to the beach to swim, not to compete; and if he owns sunglasses, he wears them on his face, not on a string around his neck.
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His closet holds only what he needs; it is not crammed with jumpsuits, bell-bottomed pants, and the accumulated whims of yesteryear. This reassures me: I could never be comfortable with a man who owns more clothes than I do!
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Nor do I wish to fight for space in the jewelry box. Dull men do not wear chains or leave their shirts unbuttoned to the navel.
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They know that romance goes beyond showy gestures and outward appearance. Their hair is soft to the touch, not stiff with mousse, and because they’re more interested in you than in themselves, dull men can, at times, be anything but dull!
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My opinions stem from experience. I married a dull man, and I am comforted by the fact that he has changed little over the years. He has never owned brand name jogging shoes or a book on gourmet cooking. No encounter group has benefited from his experience, no health-food restaurant prospered at his expense.
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In a world where fads breed and die like horseflies, he remains loyal to his own list of priorities – and I’m at the top of the list.
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That’s my kind of man!

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The Teddy Bears Picnic!

On warm afternoons, the Bear family takes afternoon tea on the terrace. Momma Rose sets the table with a nice cloth and her prettiest cups and saucers

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She hums softly at her work,

her pleasure evident as she

picks her favourite dishes from

the cabinet and takes out the cake.

Eldest daughter Wren helps carry supplies,

packing loaves of French bread carefully

into her little pink knapsack.

Poppa Will often works up an appetite by playing a game of cricket before joining his family at table…but this is family time now. He will have a chance to think about his winning ball as he does the washing up later while Momma Rose has a well-deserved rest.

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They have bread and butter to eat, a lovely cake,

and two kinds of fragrant tea. The children

drink ‘nursery’ tea, laced with lots of milk.

They are very, very careful to handle the china with care, and remember to use napkins to dab politely at their lips.

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Momma Rose always uses her English Roses teacup. It was a special gift from her mother and she treasures it.

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Momma can be counted on to play her cello for a while as the children fill their tummies. Her gentle music joins with the sound of birds tweeting and the wind whistling through the trees.

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Sunlight sparkes off the spotless
dishes and helps keep the tea toasty warm.
There is no need for a tea cozy.

Wren Bear is the family bookworm. Afternoon tea is an especially good occasion for a book as far as she is concerned.

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Poppa Will looks fondly at each of his girls in turn. What a lucky bear he considers himself to be!

As the afternoon moves on…and long shadows slant across the grass, Wren brings out her storybook and reads aloud in her best performing voice. Younger sister Ariel listens intently, but baby Jewel soon grows dozy in the sun and always misses the end of the story.



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When night falls at last, the sleepy family trundles up the stairs, sated with the treats of the afternoon and the pleasure of each other’s company. Momma Rose is the last one to fall asleep, taking a few quiet moments to count her blessings. Her loved ones all safe and tucked warmly into bed in their own cozy home…well, there is simply nothing better than that in the whole world, is there?
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xxooxx