A Valentine’s Day Interview: Tavis and Amelia


Me: Good-day. Thank you for meeting with me, Lord and Lady Stanton. In honor of Valentine’s Day, my readers have a few burning questions for you.

Tavis: It’s our pleasure, though why the details of our lives would be of any interest baffles me. Ask away. We’ll answer as honestly as able.

Amelia: (sticks out tongue at Tavis) I will be completely honest, thank you very much. I rarely tell so much as a Little White Lie.

Me: Who’s older?

Amelia: That’s easy. Tavis is about five years older than me.

Me: Alright. Who expressed their interest in the other first?

Tavis: Amelia.

Amelia: Your nose is growing, Husband. It was you who pinned me to the ground outside my father’s stable, and it was you who insisted on a moonlit waltz.

Tavis: Ah, but you so conveniently forget how you pressed your wee body into mine, closed your eyes and begged me for a kiss.

Amelia: I said no such thing!

Tavis: Sometimes actions convey more than words ever could.

Amelia:  Unfair! What woman could resist you in your black evening clothes and all that dark, brooding masculinity. If I did ask for a kiss, albeit unconsciously, I blame your irresistible good looks. Is it my fault I am no stronger than the average woman?

Tavis: I rest my case.

Amelia: Ridiculous man. What’s your next question?

Me: How long have you been married?

Tavis: A year.

Me: And how long have you been acquainted?

Amelia: A year and two weeks.

Me: Were you, ah, caught in a compromising position necessitating such a hasty marriage?

Tavis: Mean you did I tup the lass soon as I saw her?

Amelia: (blushing red) Tavis! You’re embarrassing her!

Tavis: No, I’m not. It’s you who is embarrassed, my sweet wife.

Amelia: Can we not discuss (whispers) our tupping?

Tavis: (to me) My wee wife is beyond mortified, so I’ll only say the tupping happened after we married at Gretna Green and that is was verra satisfying. That should be enough for your avid readers.

Me: Moving on, who has more of a barbed tongue?

Amelia: Do you mean forked because Tavis tells a lie as smoothly as any charlatan.

Tavis: (runs a frustrated hand through his hair) Necessary lies. Lies to keep you safe. I told you all after the danger had passed.

Amelia: Only after I was kidnapped and almost made into a bigamist.

Tavis: I’d have ne’er let you marry that snake. Besides, I saved you right enough.

Amelia: Who saved whom?

Tavis: Fine, we both saved each other.

Amelia: (kisses him on the cheek)Better.

Me: Kidnapping? Bigamy? Care to elaborate on that?

Tavis: No need to spoil the ending for those who haven’t read our story yet.

Me: Good point.

Amelia: Are we almost done? The baby is due up from his nap soon, and I’ll have to go feed him.

Me: A nice introduction to the next question: how many children do you have?

Tavis: Just the one, a boy born this month.

Me: Are there plans to enlarge your nursery?

Tavis: Think you I am a man of little sense? My wife is beautiful and the tupping is beyond satisfying. Of course we’re going to expand our nursery.

Me: As we are on the subject of marital activities, who takes up most space on the bed?

Amelia: Me, definitely!
Tavis: Aye, the lass enjoys sprawling most indelicately across the mattress and anyone who happens to be there. Many a  morn I’ve awakened with her knees pressed into my back and me almost falling onto the floor.

Amelia: I don’t hear any complaints.

Tavis: And you won’t. I happen to like how you sleep and have passed many hours watching you slumber. Like that night we stopped at the crofter’s cottage.

Amelia: You had kissed me senseless and then stormed out leaving me to wonder what I had done wrong.

Tavis: It’s what you did right that forced me from the hut to sleep with the horses. I almost lost the right to call myself a gentleman after that kiss. Or before for that matter. I don’t know how many nights I stayed awake staring at you across the fire, dreaming up ways to get ye into my bedroll.

Amelia: You hid it well, for I never knew what you struggled until after we wed.

Tavis: Aye, well you were mighty perturbed with me for the pace we kept after I stole you away from your da and took you across England to Gretna Green.

Me: One reader does ask who is the better rider

Tavis: ‘Tis me, though Amelia has quite a fine seat herself.

Amelia: Since Tavis has begun breeding horses, I’ve had to learn simply to keep up with him. I’m a much better rider than I was when we first married.

Tavis: (winking) So you are, lass. So you are.

Me: Final question, who wears the pants in the relationship?

Tavis: What an odd question. Amelia wears dresses, and fine ones, too. Are you casting aspersions upon my ability to adorn my wife in clothing suited for her station as Countess of Stanton?

Me: I just meant-

Amelia: And even then, Tavis, you wear trousers but rarely. He much prefers his kilt and then he only wears that (fanning herself) and no other garments underneath.

Tavis: Lass…

Amelia: In fact, the kilt he’s wearing now is one of my favorites, and if I remember correctly from when he dressed this morning—(flushes and clears her throat) Oh, is the baby crying?

Me: What? I don’t hear anything.

Tavis: (rising) No, that’s definitely the baby.

Amelia: (grabbing his hand and rising) You’ll excuse us, please? The butler will show you out.

Me: But I have some more questions!

Amelia: Another day? Come back later when we’re not so busy with the baby and …other things.

Me: When will that be?

Tavis: Never, if I have anything to say about it.

(C) Sara Ackerman, 2017






Expectations vs. Reality

Me: Hey, I got you a little something for Valentine’s Day.
Hubs: We don’t do that. Besides,I don’t have anything for you.
Me: Don’t worry. I bought you something to give to me.
Hubs: You did? Hmm, what if you don’t like it?
Me: I bought it. Of course I like it.
Hubs: How much did I spend?
Me: Five dollars.
Hubs: I didn’t realize I was so cheap.
Me: I spent the same amount on you.
Hubs: Ah, a frugal wife. Sexy!
Me: It’s just some chocolate. No big deal.
Hubs: Then if it isn’t a big deal, why didn’t you just buy yourself some chocolate and drop this whole pretense of me giving you something you clearly wanted for yourself?
Me: If I buy myself chocolate then I hate myself for indulging, but if I get chocolate as a gift then I can eat it without guilt BECAUSE IT’S A GIFT and everyone knows it’s rude to let a gift go to waste.
Hubs: That makes absolutely no sense. It’s still the same amount of calories whether it’s a gift or not.
Me: Fine. I bought the chocolate for myself. Are you happy?
Hubs: At least you’re being honest with me. Hey, where are you going?
Me: To eat my damn chocolate.
Hubs: One of those is mine.
Me: Not anymore. And don’t forget to pick up something for Valentine’s Day on the way home from work.
Hubs: Well, shit.
Happy Valentine’s Day!

(C) Sara Ackerman, 2017

The Ballad of Real Girl

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Once I was a real girl

With hair of silken gold

Eyes that rivaled moonbeams

A voice so sweet and bold.


Once I skipped through meadows

And played amongst the flowers.

I heard birds’ whispered secrets

While trees sheltered me in their bowers.


Once I was beloved

The joy of my father and mother

I wrapped their love around me

Thinking I’d never need another.


Once I had a name,

A mind to think, a soul to feel,

A heart that dared to reach and dream

When once, once so long ago, I was real.

(C) Sara Ackerman, 2017

Only light can chase away darkness; only love can conquer hate

I grew up in a Christian household. My father was a pastor. We went to church every Sunday and lived by the principle that love is more than a fruit of the spirit. It was also a way of life.

We never wanted for food, shelter or clothing, but I didn’t know until much later how tight the financial situation was at our home. Yet that didn’t stop my family from sharing our love with those in need. No  matter how stretched  my parents’ budget may have been, there was always food, clothing and support to be found at our house. Open pantry, open doors, open hearts. 

Is it any surprise, then, that I chose a profession in which I care for the ‘tired, the poor, and the huddled masses?’ Teaching immigrants has become more than a job; it’s a calling, and one that has filled my life with purpose and  joy. Recent events, though, have me a-tremble in equal parts rage and fear. Rage for the injustice and fear for those who I have come to call friends and family. 

In those dark moments when fear overrules reason, my husband and I have talked about moving with all the arrogance of those who have the money and the skill set to do so. But we know we can’t move. We have a responsibility to stay. We have a duty to serve. As we follow the principles our parents instilled in us, we stand firm and we will keep our doors and our hearts open to any in need. 

“Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12:31

(C) Sara Ackerman, 2017