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How to Be the Almost Perfect Husband: By Wives Who Know

What can a husband do to improve his wife's life?" That's the question J. S. Salt asked more than a thousand wives ages 19-78. It's a simple question, yet the answers promise to do more for man/woman relations than chocolates, flowers and all the sweet nothings a man can muster. Honest, revealing, wise and funny, the answers are compiled in this priceless collection. This guide instructs, amuses and provokes as it finally answers the question that has dumbfounded men since Adam bit the apple: "What does a woman want?" Wives tell all: * What to do when your wife is stressed * How to get what you want without raising your voice * What to do before you blow up * How great sex really begins * What to do daily and what to do weekly * The one thing you must never do on Valentine's Day-and more! This delightful-yet telling-glimpse into what women are REALLY thinking is a catalyst for better behavior and, then, better relationships. At last, husbands can get a clue. And it just might save a marriage or two.

# My dear aunt FRANCINA (SIEN) VAN DER GROEF at the age of about 20 years - the picture must have been taken in Middelharnis , her dwelling-place at the time , around the year 1940.

# The life of my late aunt Francina van der Groef , born on February 20 , 1919 in the village of Middelharnis on the former island of Goeree-Overflakkee in the province of Zuid-Holland in the country of the Netherlands , did hang by a thread so to speak for indeed three times during her , what , against the odds , would turn out to become a rather long existence on this earth of more than 84 years ..... and the very first life threatening event even took place before she was born .........

The start of life of my aunt Francina , who was generally called Sien , can be described as highly dramatical ...

Sien was the daughter of Leendert van der Groef and of Pieternella van den Tol .

Before Sien came to this world , already two other children had been born within this family (and after Sien three more children would be born into the world) , but when mother Pieternella was expecting Sien , the pregnancy would turn out to be quite different and much more difficult than the pregnancy had been and would be of all the other children ......

For the entire world , including the Netherlands , and therefore also including the island of Goeree-Overflakkee , the year 1918 was an exceptional and uncommon dramatic year , for two different reasons : 1918 was the last and decisive year of the first world war , and it was also the year in which the globe was confronted with one of the most severe epidemic deceases ever : the Spanish flu .....

In the course of the year 1918 , while being in expectation of her third child , Pieternella became sick , very sick , so sick even that the doctor who was consulted started fearing for the life of both mother and unborn child , since Pieternella was diagnosed with ..... Spanish flu ...

Because of the gravity of the situation yet another doctor was consulted and this man , who must have been working in the city of Rotterdam a short time before , could not recollect one single case of a pregnant woman diagnosed with Spanish flu there who had survived ........

Without any exageration we can state that health conditions of both mother Pieternella and unborn child Sien were very alarming back in 1918 and both of their lives were really hanging by a very thin thread then ......... but both mother and daughter surmounted this immense attack on their lives , completely recovered and were bound to live long lives !! Pieternella would finally pass away shortly before her 80th birthday and my aunt Sien would even reach the age of 84 (though I must add that throughout her life she remained convinced that several health problems she had to endure in her lifetime could be blamed on the fact that the first months of her unborn life had been under so severe and dangerous attack of that horrible decease)

* Without having been born yet Sien van der Groef had already gone through the eye of the life-needle ...... and certainly not for the very last time in her existence ......



Being a young adult woman Sien left the island of Goeree-Overflakkee and moved to the city of The Hague where she , shortly after the war , married Bernardus (Ben) ten Wolde , the man who was the love of her life , the man with whom she would share the coming 45 years , 'in rain and shine' , but most certainly with the emphasis on the latter , fortunately !

But their long and happy matrimonial alliance could have been cruely interrupted as a result of two different events that took place in the years that followed the special and happy day of their marriage ....

In the years shortly after the end of the war , conditions of life in Holland were far from ideal . It was a time of reconstruction and prosperity wasn't bound to come within the coming years .

When for instance a stove had to be purchased (a coal-stove that is , since we still find ourselves somewhere in the forties ...) a lot of people couldn't effort to buy a new stove , and therefore had to buy a secondhand one , with possible dramatic consequences .....

Some day , on a ordinairy working-day of the week , Sien , Ben and their young daughter Elly woke up , all three suffering of some unexplainable complaints , like a strange feeling in the head and feelings of nausea . Though not feeling all that well , Ben decided to go to work and his complaints started disappearing like snow under a hot sun , for him they did ........

If Lena ten Wolde , the mother of Ben , who was living in those days just around the corner of the street , hadn't decided to visit Sien and young daughter Elly that morning for a cup of coffee , and hadn't entered the house , than that ordinairy working-day could very well have turned to a dramatic , sinister and horrible one ........

The moment Lena entered the living-room she was seized with fear when she saw both Sien

Off of Hwy 31 near Rochester, Indiana. Noticing a great barn and well kept farmstead i decided to stop and take a quick photo. Thought to myself this one will be easy to to put a "tittle name" with since the barn had a name plate ( A. Earl Van Bibber 1919) and not much doubt as to how old it was. Little did i know that I,d find an article that pretty well sums up the mixed emotions of what to do with a farm that has been in the family for years.
The article below was in the Country Magazine -- October/November 2002.
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COUNTRY ROAD LED HER BACK TO HER ROOTS

THE NAMEPLATE is once again hanging on the side of my grandfather's barn. Ever since we moved back to my family's farm in Indiana last summer, I've been wanting to have the sign repainted.

For the past decade or so, the lettering had just barely been visible. Unable to find anyone willing to repaint the sign because of the poor shape it was in, my husband, George, and I decided to tackle the job ourselves.

And now my grandfather's name --- A. Earl Van Bibber --- is readable again….just as it should be, just as it was for so many years.

At my mom's funeral 2 years ago, a dear family friend quietly told me that my mother's death marked the end of an era. She meant that with her passing, the end had also come to another small Midwestern family farm….one that proudly bore my grandfather's name on the barn. My brother, sister and I enjoyed growing up on the farm, but none of us were able to take over operating it.

My grandparents purchased the farm in 1919. My brother and sister have memories of them, but I was only a baby when they both passed away.

It's only in my imagination that my grandparents exist. Yet oddly, I have always felt they had significant place in my heart.

My mother rarely talked about her parents. I think it was because she missed them so much. I knew she loved her mother by her soft, gentle smile whenever I'd ask some silly question about my grandmother. And whenever a neighbor or old friend would mention my grandfather's name, Mother's eyes danced, and her voice became enthusiastic.

From stories I've heard, my grandfather was generally well liked because of his sense of humor and gift of gab. But at the same time, he was a bit opinionated and outspoken.

Perhaps that's a trait I inherited from my grandfather. Over the years, I've learned the hard way that I must bite my tongue, or at least express my opinions in a more tactful manner.

When Mother passed away, we had to decide what to do with the farm. It's a decision with which countless other families have had to struggle. There are sleepless nights, worrying and praying about whether or not to sell it.

Our farm had been in the family for over 80 years, and selling it seemed almost disloyal --- and so final. Once it was sold, that part of our family heritage would be gone.

Nevertheless, we decided to sell the land, and somehow we got through the auction on that cold January day in 2001. We were greatly relieved when a neighboring farmer bought it, rather than a stranger from far away.

As for the farmhouse and outbuildings, my brother and sister didn't really want to own them, but they didn't want to sell the farmstead to anyone outside the family either.

At the time we were living in Tennessee, where George taught at a college. While I had lived the farmhouse since I was a little girl, I didn't know if my husband could find a teaching position in the area.

However, with my brother's and sister's blessings, George and I decided to keep the farmstead and rent out the house. We figured we could always sell it later if necessary.

Prayers Were Answered

After the farm sale, I made the 7-hour drive back to Tennessee with mixed feelings --- a person does a lot of thinking all alone in a car after such an event. I kept telling myself that it was ridiculous to be so emotionally attached to a few acres of Indiana dirt, and that my mother and grandparents would have understood.

Still, there was a deep sense of regret and loss….like a way of life had died. Yes, this was indeed the end of an era.

I also wondered during that long drive back to Tennessee what on earth had I done by keeping an old house we'd probably never get to live in. I realized that George must really love me for allowing me to do so.

During my absence, George had also been doing a lot of thinking about our future, and when I arrived home, he suggested we seriously consider moving to the farm. Over the next few months, we prayed for God's will, and soon George was offered a wonderful teaching opportunity within driving distance of it.

So now we're here on our little farm. These few acres may never be quite as lovely as when my grandparents lived here nearly 40 years ago.

Some features have been altered, and some are gone forever. But each little i

With each and every new novel, Dean Koontz raises the stakes—and the pulse rate—higher than any other author. Now, in what may be his most suspenseful and heartfelt novel ever, he brings us the story of an ordinary man whose extraordinary commitment to his wife will take him on a harrowing journey of adventure, sacrifice, and redemption to the mystery of love itself—and to a showdown with the darkness that would destroy it forever.

What would you do for love? Would you die? Would you kill?

We have your wife. You can get her back for two million cash. Landscaper Mitchell Rafferty thinks it must be some kind of joke. He was in the middle of planting impatiens in the yard of one of his clients when his cell phone rang. Now he’s standing in a normal suburban neighborhood on a bright summer day, having a phone conversation out of his darkest nightmare.

Whoever is on the other end of the line is dead serious. He has Mitch’s wife and he’s named the price for her safe return. The caller doesn’t care that Mitch runs a small two-man landscaping operation and has no way of raising such a vast sum. He’s confident that Mitch will find a way.

If he loves his wife enough. . . Mitch does love her enough. He loves her more than life itself. He’s got seventy-two hours to prove it. He has to find the two million by then. But he’ll pay a lot more. He’ll pay anything.

From its tense opening to its shattering climax, The Husband is a thriller that will hold you in its relentless grip for every twist, every shock, every revelation…until it lets you go, unmistakably changed. This is a Dean Koontz novel, after all. And there’s no other experience quite like it.


From the Hardcover edition.