About the Author
A.E. Fortin the time of Vietnam, I married my high school sweet-heart. He joined the Navy, twenty years. A proud Navy wife who enjoyed the life. I had three wonderful children two boys and a girl. In Virginia we did car shows and met many of NASCAR drivers. At the end of his career, we went home to Maine. When he got out, we were starting over. It took a year to get a job because of his pension. Our children still in school. We have nine grandchildren and proud of them. At fifty years of marriage to the love of my life, then he passed way. I thought to do something for myself. A legacy to my children and grandchildren.
SHORT STORY
The Story of the Birds and the Bees
Ellyn leaned into him and asked Tim a question. “When your grandmother came to me that day, why would she say that her grandson needed his honeybee? Then she said that I needed my bumblebee. What did she mean? Who is my honeybee? I hope you are my honeybee”
Tim smiled remembering back when he was ten years old. “You could say it was about the birds and bees. However, my grandfather liked to talk about the flowers and the bees. This was his way to describe parts of the body to me. It was intriguing to listen to, for a young man of ten. I will be showing you different things, you will never think of the human body the same way.”
Tim leaned against the counter, with his legs apart, and pulled Ellyn into his arms. “I always enjoyed my grandfather’s stories. As a young man of ten, he knew I was looking at girls. One day he took me out by the roses. He said that it was time to tell me about the facts of life. He started the story by using the honeybee and bumblebee. The honeybee will be the female, and the bumblebee will be the male. They are two different kinds of bees, just as a man and woman are also different.”
Ellen was slowly relaxing; her hands rested on his chest. “Okay, I’m following you. The bees are different, and so are a man and woman. Go on.”
Ellyn giggled, Tim gently moved his hand over Ellyn’s hair. “As you know, the bees get the nectar from the flowers. This is what they use to make honey.”
Ellyn was eyeing Tim closely. “Where is this story going?”
A giggle escaped her lips. She knew that he was telling the story of the birds and the bees. “As you know the bees live off the nectar of the flowers. How they get this nectar is interesting. You see, when the bumblebee lands on the flower he sometimes moves over the flower’s petals, to loosen the nectar.”
Tim moved his hand over her back. He was looking deep into her eyes. She could see a devilish smile. “As a young man he told me bits and pieces of this story until I was old enough to understand.”
BLOG/MEMOIR
This is about myself, things that happen to me. I hope you will enjoy it. As the author, I have seen many things in my life. Feelings I have, go in my books. I thought I would tell you about what I saw and heard. I’m no fanatic with religion, I believe in the Lord. I’m a born-again Christian.
I’ve heard men blame the Lord for taking their son away. There are men that blamed the woman who carried the child. Don’t even say I don’t know what I’m talking about. I lived it, I’ve also heard a man blame their child for breaking up his marriage.
Then there are women whose husband is out to sea and she can’t have sex with him. So, she goes out and gets some. If she gets pregnant, she writes to him. Oh, I’m pregnant and it’s not yours. Why is it that a lot of women don’t think, when a man is out protecting their country. But this had happened and the young man killed himself, as he jumped from an aircraft carrier.
My husband was a wonderful man. He told me things, only if he could, this he had seen and it bothered him. I was a navy wife for twenty years; I loved that time. To get closer to him I would send care packages to him. I loved finding things he liked. In one of my packages, I sent something sexy in a pringle can. I didn’t know that the men shared their care packages. I will tell you this, that it was a hard week for the men. One of the men grabbed the pringle can. “This one is mine.” As he went to open it, and found it wasn’t a pringle. “Nope it’s his…, sorry.”
That had brought everyone’s spirits up. That buzzed around the shop for quite some time. Doing something like that helped my man and his teammates. Another time I sent cookies in a box that was for dry milk. My husband didn’t open the box but kept it aside. He thought it would come in handy. One day the base ran out of milk, he thought we could make milk. He couldn’t make milk; there were cookies in the box. There was no dry milk and no good cookies. They had a good laugh over that. My husband never failed to tell me what he was doing overseas, when he was on liberty. I have more stories about things like that.
Another time, like when he and a friend were looking for the mailbox. They had spent a good amount of their money drinking. “One said I know there is a mailbox around somewhere.”
They had mail that they wanted to get out. It was the next day when they found it. The two of them were leaning against the mailbox.
In my husband's group two of the women were pregnant. I was asked to stand in for her husband. For me that was a great honor, the first woman was little. She was in labor for a while, so I had to go back and forth to the hospital and home. I had three children of my own, my oldest, looked after them for me. I got some sleep and the next day I sent them off to school. Then headed back to the hospital. That morning she and I worked to get her son to be born. She did awesome for her first child.
The second woman had her mother with her. There was a moment she wanted to give up. I couldn’t let her do that; I told her you can do this. You must dig down deep within you and push when you’re told. Now pant like a puppy, the doctor did a few things. Then she told her to push. All right, think you’re holding your husband’s hand. Now dig deep within you and push. With two good pushes her child was born. It was an honor to help them. I told them you can do anything you put your mind to.
I got to see my daughter-in-law to give birth. Also, my daughter, that was a wonderful gift they gave me.
I thought I would tell you about myself.
I’m 72 years old, my parents lived until they were in their nineties. No thank you, I don’t want to live that long.
My parents were married for twenty-five years. After my brother died at the age of six and a half. My parents got divorce, they couldn’t get past my brother’s death. For myself I was married for fifty years to a navy man. I’ve known him for fifty-five years and three months. He helped me to become a strong woman.
