Tender

Who believes in tough love? Sometimes we have to be cruel to be nice. Every decent gardener knows that. And anyone who has a half-sense knows also when and when not to apply it. Every situation is different and has to be handled appropriately and accordingly. I don’t really know what I’m saying, I’m about to take a quick nap and a bath afterwards to be fit shopping for outfits for the silver jubilee of a company tomorrow. I think what I’m saying is I don’t care much about tender. Green finger that I am I seem not able to keep houseplants alive. I’m killing them with TLC. And when it comes to romance, give me a skin scorching passionate all consuming fiery kind of love affair. I tend to find tender and sweet boring. Believe me I’m living it because they are the kind of relationships that last and you can build something on. What keeps them alive? Extra marital sidelines if you can afford. Thank God I’m over that now and so I keep telling myself as if being older means you lost appetite for excitements and resigned to the situation (read: cliche) that once you reached middle age you have no right to feel anymore. Not appropriate. Not the done thing. To hell with the done thing I say to myself often till I get into troubles for not doing the done thing like wearing distressed shorty shorts and why not when it becomes you. I’m getting sidetracked again. Anyway, TGIF enjoy your weekend and believe you me it doesn’t always have to be tender. You know what I mean. 

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