I'm forty, flabby, and frustrated. Don't get me wrong, I have a good home, a decent job, and great children. I had a loving marriage for twenty years where we had our ups and downs. It wasn't perfect; but it wasn't awful. Then he died. After the grief took its course, and the reality of my life set in, I grew frustrated. It wasn't the bills or the struggle to keep my interest in my work. It was life without a man - the only man I'd been with for twenty years. And before you go all feminist on me, it isn't that I can't be an independent woman, but there are certain areas where a man is...