Sunday, March 23, 2008
The Week's Top Ten List
10. Number of furniture stores visited in one day (Saturday.) How fun is that? {Thanks for letting me tag along, Amy.}
9. Number of blunders made while conducting RS today. I actually stopped counting; I'm sure it was more. Every other 4th Sunday the YW President gets the honors in the combined YW/RS opening exercises. You'd think I'd get better at it, but no, no I don't.
8. Number of bite sized Snickers eaten while filling Easter baskets. This was exactly 8 more than planned.
7. Number of days I did not succeed in eating pre-planned healthy cuisine. See #8.
6. Number of people here for Easter dinner. So quiet. Missed you, D,R,D&E, M,A,&C. Lovely dinner out on the patio, though!
5. Number of days this week I slept in and rejoiced over Spring Break! Oh yes, also the number of dresses ordered on-line and returned. How many ugly dresses are there in this world, anyway? Too many. Far too many. Definitely one of those *not to be repeated* incidents.
4. Number of days I did my Pilates workout. Go me. Someday I will look like the *super-model strongest woman on earth in the black ponytail with 5% body fat* on the DVD.
3. Number of quilts finished...oh wait, I still have to bind one. I'm still counting it.
2. Number of dresses and hats completed for my adorable Chloe and Eve. So fun.
1. Number of Easter egg hunts held in the back yard for local grandkids. Missed you Z,T&G! Oh, and don't forget the super fancy hot dog grilling fest held afterward. Sweet memories.
0. Number of times I got up at 6:00 a.m. this week. Pure bliss. No kidding.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Oh What a Beautiful Morning!
Did anyone else wake up on Monday morning, poke their nose outside and decide they just had to spend some time in the sun? Well I did, and it was intensified when I looked around me and saw the deplorable state of my yard, an empty green barrel and the beckoning wall-to-wall blue sky. The words to that old- school song kept going through my head as I worked. (Was it from Oklahoma!?)
Oh what a beautiful morning!
Oh what a beautiful day.
I've got a beautiful feeling
Everything's going my way.
There's a *green sort of haze in the garden
There's a green sort of haze in the garden
The weeds are as high as an elephant's eye
And it looks like they're climbing clear up to the sky!
Reprise Chorus. C'mon, I know you are singing along. (Sorry about changing the words.)
For crying out loud, where did all these weeds come from???? I love the rain and all, but hasn't it been too cold to grow four foot weeds? Apparently not. Seriously, some of them were about as high as my eye, and I'm not even joking. So it is a good thing you couldn't see me hacking and pulling and otherwise making myself ridiculous trying to improve the view from my kitchen window. I completely filled a green barrel (just in time for pick up...wasn't that clever?) And then I sprayed the bajeebers out of the rest of them. You would think I would learn to keep things under control in the winter, but no, sadly I never learn. Another embarrassing side note is that my hamstrings are making me cry when I walk as a result of my weeding extravaganza.
On a happy note, the flowers out front are blooming their hearts out and making me happy every time I see them. I *heart* flowers and digging in the dirt. I'm even going to post a picture of them when I learn how. Hahahahaha. Promises, promises.
Oh what a beautiful morning!
Oh what a beautiful day.
I've got a beautiful feeling
Everything's going my way.
There's a *green sort of haze in the garden
There's a green sort of haze in the garden
The weeds are as high as an elephant's eye
And it looks like they're climbing clear up to the sky!
Reprise Chorus. C'mon, I know you are singing along. (Sorry about changing the words.)
For crying out loud, where did all these weeds come from???? I love the rain and all, but hasn't it been too cold to grow four foot weeds? Apparently not. Seriously, some of them were about as high as my eye, and I'm not even joking. So it is a good thing you couldn't see me hacking and pulling and otherwise making myself ridiculous trying to improve the view from my kitchen window. I completely filled a green barrel (just in time for pick up...wasn't that clever?) And then I sprayed the bajeebers out of the rest of them. You would think I would learn to keep things under control in the winter, but no, sadly I never learn. Another embarrassing side note is that my hamstrings are making me cry when I walk as a result of my weeding extravaganza.
On a happy note, the flowers out front are blooming their hearts out and making me happy every time I see them. I *heart* flowers and digging in the dirt. I'm even going to post a picture of them when I learn how. Hahahahaha. Promises, promises.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Rest of the Story
A few people have asked me for "the rest of the story" from the tag quote. So I will post the entire poem for you. Here goes. It was from page 123 of Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul.
Smile
She smiled at a sorrowful stranger.
The smile seemed to make him feel better.
He remembered past kindnesses of a friend
and wrote him a thank-you letter.
The friend was so pleased with the thank-you
that he left a large tip after lunch.
The waitress, surprised by the size of the tip,
bet the whole thing on a hunch.
The next day she picked up her winnings,
and gave part to a man on the street.
The man on the street was grateful;
for two days he'd had nothing to eat.
After he finished his dinner,
he left for his small dingy room.
(He didn't know at the moment
that he might be facing his doom.)
On the way he picked up a shivering puppy
and took him home to get warm.
The puppy was very grateful
to be in out of the storm.
That night the house caught on fire.
The puppy barked the alarm.
He barked 'til he woke the whole household
and saved everybody from harm.
One of the boys that he rescued
grew up to be President.
All this because of a simple smile
that hadn't cost him a cent.
Barbara Hauck, age 13
Smile
She smiled at a sorrowful stranger.
The smile seemed to make him feel better.
He remembered past kindnesses of a friend
and wrote him a thank-you letter.
The friend was so pleased with the thank-you
that he left a large tip after lunch.
The waitress, surprised by the size of the tip,
bet the whole thing on a hunch.
The next day she picked up her winnings,
and gave part to a man on the street.
The man on the street was grateful;
for two days he'd had nothing to eat.
After he finished his dinner,
he left for his small dingy room.
(He didn't know at the moment
that he might be facing his doom.)
On the way he picked up a shivering puppy
and took him home to get warm.
The puppy was very grateful
to be in out of the storm.
That night the house caught on fire.
The puppy barked the alarm.
He barked 'til he woke the whole household
and saved everybody from harm.
One of the boys that he rescued
grew up to be President.
All this because of a simple smile
that hadn't cost him a cent.
Barbara Hauck, age 13
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Tag
I got tagged a few days ago by Runningfan. Sorry I'm so lame, but it has been a *busy* week. But I digress. Now for the tag.
Grab the nearest book to you (it must have at least 123 pages.)
Open to page 123.
Go to the 5th sentence and write the next three sentences.
Here ya go:
"The waitress, surprised by the size of the tip, bet the whole thing on a hunch. The next day she picked up her winnings, and gave part to a man on the street. The man on the street was grateful; for two days he'd had nothing to eat."
Would you believe the closest book was Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul? Too bad you didn't get to hear "the rest of the story...."
Grab the nearest book to you (it must have at least 123 pages.)
Open to page 123.
Go to the 5th sentence and write the next three sentences.
Here ya go:
"The waitress, surprised by the size of the tip, bet the whole thing on a hunch. The next day she picked up her winnings, and gave part to a man on the street. The man on the street was grateful; for two days he'd had nothing to eat."
Would you believe the closest book was Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul? Too bad you didn't get to hear "the rest of the story...."
Sunday, February 3, 2008
The Echo Monster
The echo monster sometimes takes up residence in my refrigerator when I don't get to the grocery store to replenish the supply of edible items. Ketchup and mustard, mayo and pickles aren't very fun when we don't have the milk, bread, meat and eggs to accompany them.
Well, today the echo monster moved out of the refrigerator and into the house! For ten wonderful days we have had our beloved daughter and her 3 boys here to share our space. We had to let them go today, and the echo monster is roaming from room to room, missing the life, the energy, and the spontaneous fun that erupts when children are in the house. The toys are lonely, the table deserted. The back yard is empty, the giant frisbee lifeless. It is so quiet. They need the accompanying human touch to make them meaningful.
We miss you!
Hurry back!!!
Well, today the echo monster moved out of the refrigerator and into the house! For ten wonderful days we have had our beloved daughter and her 3 boys here to share our space. We had to let them go today, and the echo monster is roaming from room to room, missing the life, the energy, and the spontaneous fun that erupts when children are in the house. The toys are lonely, the table deserted. The back yard is empty, the giant frisbee lifeless. It is so quiet. They need the accompanying human touch to make them meaningful.
We miss you!
Hurry back!!!
Monday, January 21, 2008
It's a Puzzle
It is puzzling to me that one of my favorite (although not frequent) ways to entertain myself is by working puzzles...often while watching a sentimental movie I have memorized going in the background. I usually find time for it on holidays or when members of my family are visiting who share my fetish for the sport. I suppose I love it because I have such happy memories of working puzzles with my mother, sisters, and children... perhaps my love for spending time with them spilled over into the puzzle box. And most of my children love puzzles because my mother spent hours with them working puzzles nearly every time they were together. It is such a nice time to indulge in small talk and for sharing good laughs. I love to buy a new puzzle, but they are getting harder to find. I'm picky about my puzzles, you see. They have to have a lot of different things going on...none of this half the picture being blue water and the other half being blue sky nonsense. Not too small, not too big, not too ugly, not too "all the same," not too hard, not too easy. Hmmm, no wonder they are hard to find. My niece, Amy, recently bought me a wonderful puzzle...it was a picture of many kinds of chocolates...how could we improve upon that?
We have some funny memories of Eric hiding one puzzle piece in his room so he could put in the last piece, Grandma lifting her arm and having five pieces stuck to it, looking up and realizing it was indeed 2 a.m., and recently, having Mark find a piece in the garage that belonged in the puzzle we were working.
I've decided there are two kinds of puzzle workers. The first type works mostly by shape and color. These are usually the puzzlers who like to complete the outside edge first and work on little sections of the puzzle that eventually flow together.
Then there is the "big picture" puzzle worker who picks up a piece, examines the picture on the box, and finds the minuscule hole to drop it into.
I am a shape/color person. My husband is a big picture person. You know, we approach nearly everything in life from those perspectives. I work on life one ridiculous detail at a time...and he sees nearly everything from a more global perspective. That is why he is so good at planning solution strategies for large telecom companies, and I'm good at knowing which socks belong to whom.
We make a great team. That isn't much of a puzzle at all.
We have some funny memories of Eric hiding one puzzle piece in his room so he could put in the last piece, Grandma lifting her arm and having five pieces stuck to it, looking up and realizing it was indeed 2 a.m., and recently, having Mark find a piece in the garage that belonged in the puzzle we were working.
I've decided there are two kinds of puzzle workers. The first type works mostly by shape and color. These are usually the puzzlers who like to complete the outside edge first and work on little sections of the puzzle that eventually flow together.
Then there is the "big picture" puzzle worker who picks up a piece, examines the picture on the box, and finds the minuscule hole to drop it into.
I am a shape/color person. My husband is a big picture person. You know, we approach nearly everything in life from those perspectives. I work on life one ridiculous detail at a time...and he sees nearly everything from a more global perspective. That is why he is so good at planning solution strategies for large telecom companies, and I'm good at knowing which socks belong to whom.
We make a great team. That isn't much of a puzzle at all.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Vicki Jeanne Porter
I guess people come into our lives for a reason. Vicki came into mine for lots of reasons, I think. She was just what I needed, just when I needed it.
We emailed. My husband thought it was hilarious that we lived about 1/4 of a mile apart, but did we pick up the phone? No. Did we run over to each other's house for a chat? No. We sat down at the computer and quietly supported each other. She was so much better at all the technological computer stuff, but she was so patient with my ignorance. I never did get the hang of attachments...
We went to lunch. What is it about going to lunch with a friend? It was...priceless. So many good times and happy memories. And coupons for new places out of the newspaper.
We laughed. Almost every one of her entries had at least one comment that made me *LOL*. And sometimes I really needed that after a long day.
We rolled our eyes. Life is just ridiculous sometimes and we made the most of that. It is funny when you know somebody well, how a little roll of the eyes in their direction across the room can communicate volumes. It makes me giggle just thinking about it.
We learned new things. Like she taught me the meaning of the word *shattered.* (That is when you are really, really tired.) And *scattered* is just a little bit before you are shattered. And she taught me that the VF Mall is called the VF Mall because it is the Very Far Mall.
She liked Bashas. I like Frys. She loved computer games. I don't. (Probably because she could beat them and I can't.) She liked Victorian, I like Traditional. She liked beige. I like red. Did it matter? No.
We emailed. My husband thought it was hilarious that we lived about 1/4 of a mile apart, but did we pick up the phone? No. Did we run over to each other's house for a chat? No. We sat down at the computer and quietly supported each other. She was so much better at all the technological computer stuff, but she was so patient with my ignorance. I never did get the hang of attachments...
We went to lunch. What is it about going to lunch with a friend? It was...priceless. So many good times and happy memories. And coupons for new places out of the newspaper.
We laughed. Almost every one of her entries had at least one comment that made me *LOL*. And sometimes I really needed that after a long day.
We rolled our eyes. Life is just ridiculous sometimes and we made the most of that. It is funny when you know somebody well, how a little roll of the eyes in their direction across the room can communicate volumes. It makes me giggle just thinking about it.
We learned new things. Like she taught me the meaning of the word *shattered.* (That is when you are really, really tired.) And *scattered* is just a little bit before you are shattered. And she taught me that the VF Mall is called the VF Mall because it is the Very Far Mall.
She liked Bashas. I like Frys. She loved computer games. I don't. (Probably because she could beat them and I can't.) She liked Victorian, I like Traditional. She liked beige. I like red. Did it matter? No.
We kept in touch. I'm so grateful.
VJ left me a great friend's legacy. She was a dedicated mother. Nothing came before her family. She taught me about keeping on keeping on and hanging in there. She taught me about doing hard things. She taught me about love unfeigned and unconditional acceptance. She called me Clee. Nobody else on earth calls me Clee.
I'm not ready to let her go. Do you think there is email in heaven?
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