My Red Room

 I was inspired by a recent critique of Fifty Shades of Gray and I realized that I have my very own Red Room.  It is not as elaborate as the room described in the book but I assure you it is just as dangerous and filled with drama.

It always starts with an innocent tease, a suggestion, even a smell and end with complete capitulation.

The tease is the beautiful red flower, a gift to soften my urge to say no! no!  It is always Yes! Yes! and a wish for a second cup of coffee before my day begins with a walk through the garden to find out what needs to be done.  What requires my immediate attention?

I see that my work in the Red Room is not done.  The wooden spatulas placed in a deep red pitcher have been added. Hint, hint!  Woman, stir up some oatmeal porridge for breakfast.


One time my husband and I had a heated domestic discussion in the Red Room.

My husband was demanding too much of me.  I have to cook and clean and do the dishes.  I am always tied to the stove with apron strings or so it seems.  I broke down and cried.  I told him that he treated me like a slave.  "I'm nothing to you but a kitchen wrench!"



I am currently on Spring Break with my granddaughter; however, I am too old to go to Daytona Beach and she is too young.

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