Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Honour Roses.

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In years gone by a knight might joust for his ladies honour. But honour is not that big a deal anymore so there is not much to defend and certainly no need for men to kill themselves over it. In fact many women are happy to be with both knights, just let them check their google calendar.

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Then some men would have sword fights, or pistols at dawn ... that has all gone too. Now you are lucky if there is a brawl in the bar - winner take all.

It is more likely to see the women duking it out on You Tube. Women are no longer likely to sit back to be chosen. They are still the "prey" but THIS prey now gets actively involved in the selection process. I just don't quite understand why, when women fight, they always end up half naked. Hence Jerry Springer lasted as long as it did.

BUT my husband fights for my honour every day. He loves me. He goes out and crawls in amongst the thorny thicket of the rose garden, picking out ginourmous creepy bugs, tenderly checking each bloom, nursing them, coaxing them and then choosing the best roses and presenting them to me by the bucketload each day.

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His armour is more like well tanned leather and instead of shining it has lots of nicks and scratches and scars but those are evidence of the valiant battles he fights for me every day ....

He is so lucky to have me.

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