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Gaining fat is so easy…losing it is not. There are so many do’s and don’ts about how you can lose weight, but it’s like an uphill battle. You love to eat. You love going out with your partner for dinner at your favorite restuarant. You love to try new foods especially the ones that are fatty. Let’s face it, fatty foods taste better! Okay, a week later you feel fat. You weigh yourself and you can’t believe your eyes. The weight scales show you gained 2 more pounds! What do you do?
You immediately go on a diet.
You start working out.
You take up jogging.
You read the nutrition information on labels.
You give up on those wonderful evenings at McDonalds.
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According to research findings published in the academic journal, “Archives of Sexual Behavior”, men are not drawn to women based on “rational reasons”.
Relationship and dating expert Clayton Max explained to us, “It’s not about ticking the criteria on a man’s checklist of a ‘perfect girl ‘. A woman cannot persuade men to want to be with her”.
“In my research”, Max states , “when a woman attempts to convince a man , pressure him , or show him just how perfect she is, it’s most likely to backfire, since these behaviors signal the reverse of what makes men absolutely sure she is the one for him”.
“The truth is” according to Max, “guys choose partners based on whether they do one specific thing.”
“They pick partners who trigger that instinctive feeling of INFATUATION”.
Psychologists have discovered that infatuation originates from a primitive urge deep within the brain …
When his infatuation response is triggered , it does NOT matter if a potential partner has the qualities he has been searching for .
They may be totally ‘incompatible’ theoretically , however he’ll make time for her. He’ll move cities for her . He’ll change occupations for her .
Because the Infatuation Response essentially TURNS OFF the part of his brain responsible for anything aside from being with her .
So how does a woman activate a man’s Infatuation Instinct … to make him so overwhelmed with desire he’s ready to do what ever it takes to show her how much he wants her?
A little country village in West Virginia, during the 1930’s and 1940’s, situated between two steep and wooded rugged hills, was indeed to become a booming town. Underground coal mining was coming to the village.
There was one mining company that began deep underground mining for coal and they employed a dozen or so men, including my father. Our family and others moved into the “holler” but were not fortunate to own property. When the coal company started operations they used the miners to build clapboard sided two-story houses for those without, which included our family, to live in as long as they were employed with the coal company.
Our house and every company built house had 4 rooms downstairs and 2 large rooms upstairs. They were all the same design. No indoor plumbing. Coal was the fuel burned in a fireplace in the living room that supplied heat in the winter. It was like the house was built around the chimney. Heat radiated out from the sides of the chimney which was visible inside and ran straight up through the middle of the house into the 2 bedrooms upstairs. Coal was free. Dad would take us kids riding in the back of his 1940’s Ford pickup truck to the mines. There we would load up the truck bed with a week’s supply of coal and then unload it in the coal shed next to the house once we got home. Everybody used coal and there were some days black coal smoke would lazily float up out of the chimneys from every house and would linger over the valley tree tops with a gray heavy smog. There was always the smell of coal smoke in the air.
No indoor plumbing meant no indoor toilet facilities. So, every house had an outhouse and we took our baths from a big pan filled with water heated on the coal-fired kitchen stove. Water came from a deep well and drawn up by a hand pump outside next to a back porch.
From the back porch to the outhouse my father and mother laid down a brick walkway. Also, they laid down a sidewalk around our house. The brick coming from the mines brick yard. My mother was pregnant with me when they built the sidewalk. A few years ago I returned to the place where the house once stood. The area was grown over with brush and years of rotten trees. I began digging around where the house stood and finally uncovered the sidewalk. I loaded my truck bed with as many bricks I could find, took them home and built a hearth for my wood burning stove.
After a short time my maternal grandmother came to live with us. It was a real treat to have her there. Many times my brother and I would gather around her as she rocked back and forth in her creaking rocking chair. Sitting on the floor next to the fireplace in the livingroom, we would listen to her tell of times long ago when she was a little girl. She told of some really ghostly scary stories that made the hair stand on the back of our necks. And to this day I can remember those tales and have passed some on to my grandchildren. Poor grandma, who was getting up there in age was unable to use the outhouse, so she used a chamber pot which was stored under her bed. Mother would empty the pot at the outhouse every morning.
One day mother decided that we needed a larger outhouse. So, the men from the mines were called on to tear down the old one and build a new one. It was a deluxe outhouse with 2 sitters. The only one in the neighborhood that would accommodate 2 people at the same time. My mother was so proud. Only in those days would this be considered a luxury.
Many years have passed and sometimes I yearn for the. return of those days. So simple, so uncomplicated. Enjoying lazy warm summer evenings sitting in the swing on the front porch with my mother as she chatted with a neighbor who lived down the road. I laid on the swing with my head in mother’s lap listening to them talk about the events of the day. Mother would swing slowly back and forth . Soon in the darkness of the evening lightning bugs would glow their yellow green light down next to the creek. Closing my eyes I would fall asleep. I was just a little boy, but I remember those wonderful days and how peaceful it was in that little village. The name of the village was called, Gloryholler.
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