tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46892155115841802572024-03-13T09:16:10.295-05:00Numbering the DaysSo teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.comBlogger384125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-30876132974141066532018-07-08T17:59:00.000-05:002018-07-08T17:59:15.192-05:00After the 4th of July.....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My mother-in-law used to say 'after the 4th of July, summer is all over.'<br />
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I'm here to respectfully disagree, because here in beautiful Coeur D'alene, Idaho, we're just getting started.<br />
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Since I was last here we've finished our time in Texas, loaded the van and covered 2200+ miles before pulling into our northern driveway.<br />
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And when everyone in the Dallas / Ft Worth metroplex is ready to be D.O.N.E. with all the blasted heat and humidity, around the end of June, summer is just barely raising her head up here.<br />
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This morning, when I woke up, it was 55 degrees outside. 55 degrees. So I did what anyone who lives in DFW half the year would do - I grabbed my cotton robe, a mug of coffee and headed outdoors to soak in the feel of such cool air.<br />
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I do understand why everyone doesn't live here December through April, but why everyone doesn't rush up here from May through November is beyond me. It's weather perfection. Cool mornings, then afternoons that offer skies so blue they look like they should be cut up into puzzle pieces. The temperatures may top out around the mid 80's or so, but then the evenings cool back down.<br />
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We find ourselves gathered onto the deck just about every evening, with the fire pit going, the hot tub bubbling away, and pinching ourselves from the wonderfulness of it all.<br />
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We added a deck to the back of the house after we bought it last fall, and it has become our happy place morning, noon and night. The deer that were lying down in our back yard are now mostly next door, but I'm okay with that. I think once the fawns are a bit older we'll see them more. And all the newly hatch turkeys should be showing up soon too.<br />
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We got to Idaho the very end of June, with just enough time to unpack before the 4th of July was upon us. Experiencing the 4th of July in CDA is like going back in time and landing in Mayberry USA.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enthusiastic parade observers. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I thought this one was very funny. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This would be Miss Lily being borrowed by a grandson's friend. :-) </td></tr>
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CDA has about 50,000 year round residents, but there's no telling how many people are here any given week during the summer. And pretty much all of them come out for the parade. Two hours of bands and horses and girls doing the queen wave, and every business in town driving a decorated vehicle down the middle of the street, groups of women who have possibly passed their prime but nobody told them, doing dance routines with shopping carts, etc. Big firetrucks with bigger horns blasting. It's just the most wonderful thing to be a part of. Then we all went home to our house where we grilled and made messes and lots of loud noise, and we finally finished off with watching fireworks from our new deck. Perfect 4th of July.<br />
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Today my Daddy, who I stopped to see on our way here, turns 93.<br />
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I spent a couple of days with him, talking about the viability of this year's garden, and will the zucchini produce or not, but more importantly the beets. Then he gathered a group of ladies he refers to as his harem, and they all taught us to play Mexican Train dominoes. Watching him add up the face value of all the dominoes for everyone at the table in lightning fast fashion was amazing. I swear he's just getting better with time. <br />
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So we're here now, enjoying our northern life. Getting ready for our first of three groups of visitors, but this first group is special because it's our youngest kid (they are always our kids, age has nothing to do with it) and his wife and their two kids. Our entire family hasn't been together in about five years (maybe more?) so I'm very excited to have us all together in one place, creating havoc and messes and enough noise to annoy the neighbors. I'm also about to call a local amateur photographer to capture some moments for us. Which of course I'll share here.<br />
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Lastly, I have a fun new friend in Texas who had us over for dessert a couple of nights before we left for Idaho. As soon as Cub Sweetheart ate one bite he told me, 'you have to make this again.' It's truly divine. And easy peasy lemon squeezy.<br />
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It's called Ice Cream Sandwich cake, and <a href="https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/232742/ice-cream-sandwich-cake/">HERE'S THE LINK</a> to the recipe. Make it no later than tomorrow, but today would be even better.<br />
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Happy Summer everyone, we're just getting good started. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-79529094369220184242018-06-06T16:38:00.001-05:002018-06-06T16:39:53.081-05:00Malarky<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great cuisine and memories with Chuckee Cheese</td></tr>
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I've heard 'sixty is the new fifty'. There's likely a saying for seventy being the new sixty. Whatever.<br />
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Besides the fact that there are no fifty year olds saying it, I'm here to say it's all a bunch of malarky.<br />
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The day I turned fifty I did a cartwheel in my backyard, just to be sure I still could. It wasn't pretty but it didn't put me into traction. Let me tell you the chances I'd do a cartwheel today. Or that Cub Sweetheart would want me to. Because if I was dumb enough to do such a thing, very likely I'd throw my back out and be down for the count for a good two weeks.<br />
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When I was fifty I not only could still do a cartwheel, I hauled wheel barrels of mulch across the yard, and dressed up all the flower beds. I poured concrete and painted basement floors. I stained the deck.<br />
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When I was fifty I could live on five hours of sleep. I didn't feel tops but I could get through the day without feeling like I'd been struck with a case of ebola or bubonic plague.<br />
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Now, as I screech into 63 in just a couple of days, I got six hours of sleep last night. Six. And it's not pretty.<br />
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When my son, who is studying for his doctorate, had to get a section of his dissertation turned in a month or so ago he got forty five minutes of sleep before he got up, took a shower, put on a suit and went to work. In fairness he did go to bed that night at 7:30 and slept ten hours, but I can't even imagine getting through the day on forty five minutes of sleep. You'd have to be dragging me across the floor by an arm to see any movement by me.<br />
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So after six hours of sleep, my day started at 6:30 with a very young person coming into the bedroom (I was staying at our kids' house), asking me where the birthday presents were. They happened to be in the closet of the bedroom I had been sleeping in. I can't tell you the last time I started my day with anyone asking me a question and expecting me to answer. Within five minutes of opening my eyes we were having a family birthday party, that did not involve coffee or quiet.<br />
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Within an hour of opening a variety of gifts that all involved Jurassic Park in some fashion, we climbed into the car to go to the donut shop. Nobody had on shoes, nobody had brushed their teeth, and everyone had bed hair. But apparently that's normal garb for the donut shop at 7:30 in the morning. I was too weary to do otherwise, so I started my day with a large coffee with cream and a blueberry donut which I consumed in about thirty seconds. Then I shifted into the phase of riding along, waiting for the sugar to hit my bloodstream, then flow to all my extremities.<br />
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The next hour found me on the interstate, driving back to my own home, where I drank another very large cup of coffee and ate more donuts. My only goal today is to keep the flow of sugar and caffeine to my bloodstream constant.<br />
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Next was lunch at Chuckee Cheese, where we ate greasy pizza and drank diet sodas, to which I added a shot of Mountain Dew.<br />
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It's afternoon and I've moved to Dr. Pepper which I believe has 12 - 16 tsp of sugar in it, if the stories are correct. I've heard rumors we're going out for dinner tonight, to further celebrate this birthday with greasy fried chicken, mashed potatoes drowned in butter, greasy green beans, and sweet tea. Lots of sweet tea.<br />
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My normal day involves two cups of coffee with cream, yogurt and fruit for breakfast, salad for lunch and a relatively healthy dinner. That's what sensible sixty plus year olds do.<br />
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I'm not fifty. I'm sliding into sixty three and six hours of sleep will show a body what they're really made of. Today it's sugar, caffeine and grease. Hopefully tonight will involve at least eight hours of sleep, and we can get back to normal.<br />
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But when I wake up, a day away from sixty three, I still won't be feeling like I'm fifty. That's just a bunch of malarky. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-90202988688767970892018-05-30T08:28:00.002-05:002018-05-30T08:28:29.353-05:00Hello Summer!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been awhile since I spent any time here. We've been busy, with multiple events, but the most notable was Lily's 5th birthday. When I mentioned to our Littles that she was turning five they asked if I was having a party. So I said yes. So they said we needed presents. So we bought some. So they said we needed decorations and snacks and friends to celebrate with us. So I said yes to it all, and it was SO much fun! We even invited our next door neighbor and her little dog Missy, who left with a treat bag.<br />
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A month ago - when it was still breezy and cool April, I was wondering if summer would ever arrive. Then, BAM - it did! Finishing up May, and sliding into June, we've got a forecast of days running in the 100's. And true, official summer isn't for another three weeks. Wowzers! Texas isn't for the faint of heart this time of year.<br />
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This heat is for me a God-thing. We've come up with a schedule that finds us heading the van north around the end of June, with me and our Texas Littles a blubbery mess as we say goodbye for six months. It's a schedule that works, and I can't wait to see all our family in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Summer there is pure bliss, even without all those faces I love. But saying goodbye here is still hard, and if it wasn't so miserably hot I don't know that I could stand it. For everything there is a season, turn turn turn.<br />
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In the meantime, we've got three weeks before we leave, so the list of what needs to be done before we go is growing.<br />
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I have two more piano lessons. I had my very first one, the one where you find where Middle C is, the middle of January. When I leave for Idaho I should have 19 or 20 lessons under my belt, and I'm so thankful for all I've learned. And for my oh so patient teacher. It's such a source of joy to me, to be able to sit down, look at a piece of paper with black marks on it, and somehow it transfers to my fingers, and out comes music! Amazing!<br />
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We're spending a lot of time with our Texas Littles before we go - covering childcare for them for a few days while their primary caretaker is away on vacation; then we're taking our very first 'all by ourselves load up the van and take off' road trip with them. We learned about a state park in Oklahoma called Robber's Cave, where Jesse James and Belle Star apparently hid out from the law. It's now been shaped into a fun place for families to rent a cabin, roast smores, play putt putt, ride horses, swim, hike through caves, and learn about native animals - all of which we plan to do, while trying to avoid mosquitoes and poison ivy. A three hour drive and a few nights away seems like the perfect trial run for what we hope will become an annual tradition of memory making.<br />
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There's Father's Day to celebrate with Cub Sweetheart and our son. A few movies to squeeze in. Some grilling to be done. Refrigerators and freezers to be cleaned out. And a van to be loaded up before we hit the road with Miss Lily for the 2000 mile trek north.<br />
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I seem to be coming here about once a month, and my good intentions will try to do so more often. No promises. It is, after all, the beginning of summer.<br />
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Blessings<br />
Bev<br />
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PS Cub Sweetheart is sporting a sling in the photo - a brand spanking new shoulder. We're eight weeks out from the surgery and he's not quite ready to go fishing, but doing better by the day.</div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-55115061731266330812018-04-21T11:13:00.001-05:002018-04-21T22:29:30.555-05:00I'm not a Cosmopolitan kind of girl. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The current issue of Oprah</td></tr>
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Do any of you get magazines you don't subscribe to?<br />
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I subscribed to a very sweet Cottage-look home magazine a couple of years ago. It was the only magazine I subscribed to.<br />
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The owner of the magazine happens to be Hearst Magazine. Much like having one child and something happens, there is only one place to point the finger. As this is the only magazine I subscribed to, I have to assume they are/were the guilty party.<br />
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I started receiving four or five magazines on a monthly basis, and was surprised because:<br />
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#1 I had never subscribed to any of them.<br />
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#2 The mailing label showed I had a three year subscription.<br />
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I have been getting these magazines regularly for over two years now. Most of them I would never have subscribed to, and one is an embarrassment to have delivered to my mailbox. Cosmopolitan and Oprah both arrive without fail, month after month, along with the other ones. All are owned by Hearst Magazine Corporation.<br />
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I've apparently been added to their subscribership, to boost their numbers. That's why we can all get a one year subscription for about ten bucks.<br />
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Have you ever tried to cancel a magazine you don't subscribe to? I'm here to tell you it's impossible. They don't assign you an account number, so you can't reference it. Tricky, tricky.<br />
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I've come to realize Hearst Magazine Corporation doesn't really care if they send me the magazines for free. What they want is my number as a subscriber so they can sell their advertising. It's all based on numbers and I'm one, whether I want to be or not.<br />
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The cover topics of Cosmopolitan are enough to make one blush, so I keep on throwing it away, wondering how long I'll be stuck receiving it. At my age, I'm not terribly inclined to work on all those things the cover of Cosmo tells me can be perfected. I also cancelled the original Cottage home magazine (not the exact name) so they would stop selling my name and address. So alas, I don't get the magazine I actually wanted to receive, and instead I get a mailbox full of ones I don't want.<br />
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Since I'm the recipient of Oprah, and I find it to be only annoying rather than embarrassing, here's a fun thought: Has anyone else noticed that EVERY SINGLE COVER EVER has her on it? Is it just me or does anyone else see this as a bit self-absorbed?<br />
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I know there are Oprah fans out there, so please don't blast me, but I'm not one. I don't think Oprah is evil, but I sure don't think she's one whose philosophy on life I'm going to be making my own.<br />
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And while we're at it, since she does put her photo on the cover of every single issue, here's something all we mere mortals can relate to. If you'd like to look like Oprah's cover this month, it will only cost you $6,125.00 . That sweater she's wearing is from Saks (who shops at Saks?) and costs $595.00. Her pants are $1,195, a bit different from my Target purchased Danskin yoga pants that ran $14.95. Her earrings were $1,295. Her bracelet and rings are from Tiffany's (my go to jeweler, yours too?) and cost $2,950.00.<br />
<br />
I could swing the sneakers, at $90. But they'd come out of our annual clothing budget, which for the two of us is less than the earrings Oprah is wearing. I'd have to like them an awful lot to pay $90, and they better be up to walking Miss Lily 365 days a year.<br />
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Interestingly, when my subscription to the magazine I actually subscribed to ran out, they stopped sending it. But Cosmo - it just keeps on keeping on.<br />
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Just thinking..... </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-73864093266466253002018-04-15T18:45:00.004-05:002018-04-15T22:46:05.442-05:00Book Review of Educated by Tara Westover <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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If you're a fan of the memoir genre you HAVE to read this book. If you're not, read it anyway. </div>
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I'm not sure where I first heard about it, but the title alone grabbed me. I saw it the next week on the end of an aisle in Target, and requested it from my local library. Seeing how many names were ahead of mine, I knew it was likely worth the wait. </div>
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Two months later I finally got the text telling me it was waiting for me. </div>
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I finished it last night, and thank goodness because I'm completely sleep deprived from staying up too late four nights in a row. I hated putting it down. </div>
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It was amazing. </div>
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It was horrifying. </div>
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It was riveting. </div>
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It was memorable. </div>
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What Tara Westover has accomplished by the age of 32 is absolutely amazing. Having received essentially no education whatsoever, and against all odds and active discouragement and manipulation from her parents, she decided to change her life by going to college. </div>
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She'd never heard of the Holocaust, Napoleon, the Civil Rights Movement or the Equator. </div>
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Not easily discouraged, she took some of the money she made working in her father's scrap yard and bought a few used books. She taught herself enough of the subjects needed to pass her SAT, but her scores weren't high enough to get into the school of her choice, so she went back, studied more and raised her score to what was needed. </div>
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This woman now holds a PhD in History, and has been educated at Cambridge and Harvard. </div>
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That's mind boggling remarkable, but it's nothing compared to what she endured and overcame. The mental and physical abuse she withstood at the hands of her own family members would have broken most people. I've read some criticism of her staying and subjecting herself to the situation, but that's what fascinated me the most - that a brilliant, gifted woman could be so blinded to the reality of her situation - partly because of her love for her family and the need we all have to belong to someone, somewhere, and partly because she wasn't able to realize there was another way to live. She only knew her own reality.</div>
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In my own family I've seen situations I so wish were different; lives of people I love that I wish I could change. I've learned the hard reality that we can't change anyone but ourselves and even that is an uphill climb. And change is only possible when someone is able to see the need to do so. We can't want what we don't know exists.<br />
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I don't know who said it, but it's a great quote:</div>
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The first step in fixing any problem is realizing there is one.</blockquote>
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There have been many areas of my own life that needed changing, but it took years before I realized it, and more before I was ready and able to do so. It took some hard choices, and sometimes doing a 180 and going down a completely different path in life than the one I was on. It took recognizing dysfunction for what it was, and choosing to live my life differently than I had in the past.<br />
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It can be awfully hard to see through the mess of life when you're smack dab in the middle of it. I've had times in my life when trying to know what was real, and how to react to what was going on around me felt like it does when you get trapped under water, and you can't even tell which way is up, where the surface is.<br />
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You won't hear me judging Tara Westover because it took her awhile to see her horrible, dysfunctional life for what it was, and have the courage to leave it behind.<br />
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Education was the escape path she chose. She ended up doing several 180 turns along that path before she was finally able to keep going and not look back. Honestly, I'm impressed as heck this woman survived to tell her story.<br />
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If you read this book, you'll come away impacted by her story. Reading Educated made me want to pick up a textbook and volunteer at a woman's shelter. Be sure to leave a comment and let me know your thoughts if you decide to read it. (My suggestion would be that it is appropriate reading for age 15 and up.)</div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-88214023863723732662018-04-14T14:52:00.001-05:002018-04-14T15:08:50.031-05:00Horse & Sleigh and my Bucket List<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Note: The piece is called Horse and Sleigh </div>
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I'm eleven weeks into my piano lessons. A record in itself when I remember that taking lessons was one of my resolutions for 2018, and since my first lesson in late January, I've only missed two days of practicing.<br />
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If I'd approach my resolutions to exercise, lose weight and get enough sleep as I do piano practice that would be super impressive. Alas, not so much.<br />
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But.... I'm thinking the biggest difference with my 'learn to play the piano badly' is twofold:<br />
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#1 I'm paying someone to teach me, writing a check every month. Putting my money where my mouth is has helped substantially to move forward.<br />
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#2 I have a teacher who expects me to show up for lessons, and be prepared. If I were to make it a habit to skip lessons or show up with excuses as to why I didn't practice enough the past week, after awhile she'd give me the boot. As she should for wasting her time.<br />
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I started at the very beginning, but with an adult advanced book, and I've got about two more weeks in it. My lessons are already more advanced than anything I'd ever had in the past.<br />
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The best part about starting back at piano lessons is that when I asked Cub Sweetheart for a keyboard for Christmas, it had a port to plug in headphones. My keyboard sounds a bit more tinny than a piano would, but headphones in a small home can save <strike>a marriage</strike> one's sanity.<br />
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Cub Sweetheart is just the nicest guy and long-suffering enough that he would listen to my plunking away if that's what it took, but he's not complaining about the headphones either. The first year of piano is a bit miserable. One finger plunking down, and trying over and over to get the fingering right. Even when the piece is played correctly it still isn't anything that's going to make the top twenty of background dinner music.<br />
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Having headphones gives me the space to practice at least twice a day, going through my entire lesson, so that my fingers and brain can do their work to become familiar with all the notes, the dynamics, and theory that goes into learning.<br />
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My original goal - my bucket list item - was to 'play Christmas Carols badly'. And I can already do that! Now I'm starting to think, maybe I can play them mediocre? What if I took lessons for at least several years? How well could I play then?<br />
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And if I start thinking wild? What if I took as long as I wanted? As long as my teacher is willing to suffer through with me? Why do I need to stop?<br />
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What a gift we have, that life can be made up of such stuff as tackling a long standing dream. That we can set our mind to do something, and with a little perseverance it may just be possible? And then some.<br />
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Hoping any of you out there who have something on your bucket list that you're still putting off, you'll listen and maybe be encouraged to tackle it. Start with a goal of badly. Move up to mediocre. Then who knows?</div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-15660034068730960762018-03-29T17:04:00.003-05:002018-03-29T17:04:38.944-05:00Going Down Memory Lane with Peter Cottontail<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I thought I'd post this photo, mostly so my family can enjoy it. Perhaps a few others will remember back to their childhoods. <br />
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The newspaper clipping is dated Thursday, April 11, 1963.<br />
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I have no idea why our annual dyeing of Easter eggs made the paper, but it did. For a brief moment in time all six kids were captured together at our kitchen table, with our mother standing by to supervise.<br />
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The byline says: Preparing for Easter - The children of Mr. and Mrs. Chester Boaz decorate their own eggs for Easter, usually about four dozen that have been boiled for them by their mother. Shown above are Gary, 9; Beverly 7; Barbara, 12; Jerry, 11; Derrell, 5 and Dwain, 6 with Mrs. Boaz who helps them prepare dyes from food coloring.<br />
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Here's what the article in the Beaumont, Texas paper had to say:<br />
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Members of Boaz Family Color Own Easter Eggs, by Marie Allen<br />
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Baskets and bunnies, candy and church make Easter a favorite time for the Boaz family. And Judy (Mrs. Chester) Boaz has a way of adding special touches to make it extra memorable.<br />
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For instance, she finds that youngsters enjoy it more if allowed to do the egg-decorating themselves. "With six enthusiastic kiddies, it's quite an ordeal", she admits.<br />
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"But I just give them four dozen hard-boiled eggs, lot of material to work with - and stand by for the mess!"<br />
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Judy and the children make their own egg dyes with bottles of food coloring. "We put a little in a cup, add a half-teaspoon of vinegar, some boiling water and that's it.<br />
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"The coloring is harmless and the bottles allow plenty for all the children. They like mixing drops from different bottles, too, and sometimes come up with pretty peculiar shades."<br />
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Construction paper is standard equipment at egg-decorating time. Judy has shown the youngsters how to make bunny ears, whiskers and other features to dress up the eggs and add to the fun.<br />
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The older ones, Barbara, 12, Jerry, 11, and Gary, 9 try for artistic effects. They concentrate on intricate wax-pencil designs. Beverly, 7, Dwain 6, and Derrell, 5 respectively, are more concerned with concocting the brightest and most decorated eggs.<br />
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With Judy's help, the youngsters select their Easter outfits. There are fluffy dresses for the girls, white shirts for the boys and shiny shoes for everyone.<br />
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"After getting all their clothes chosen and ready, I'm happy to just settle for a new hat", Judy sighs.<br />
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She buys their baskets early and ingeniously hides them from 12 curious eyes until the big morning. She also stocks up on candy: "When the children have given it up for Lent, they spend a good part of Easter making up for lost time!"<br />
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Early Easter morning she and Chester hide the eggs. After the hunt there is much egg-eating with 'swapping" of yolks and whites. One year it rained and the hunt was held indoors. Judy recalls wryly such aftereffects as squashed eggs under living room cushions.<br />
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Highlights of their Easter is early mass at St. Pius Church. Later there's a family dinner with Judy preparing their best-liked dishes, along with the traditional ham.<br />
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A typical "togetherness" family, the Boazes have fun with each other not only at holidays, but throughout the year. They like fishing, picnicking, archery and bowling. They are chess players, even little Derrell.<br />
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Chester is a postman and Judy, "When I can sneak time for it," likes to write. Two of her poems have been accepted by a poetry magazine.<br />
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She collects books, concentrates on contemporary authors. Her first editions inclde works by Pearl Buck, Sinclair Lewis and Frank Yerby.<br />
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"I'd like to do more things, but right now I'm just too busy being a mama," she laughs." Childhood memories are important and we want our children to have happy ones.<br />
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"I should be a better housekeeper, but there's always something coming along - like Easter - that you want to go to a little extra trouble for. The family enjoys it - and I guess that's what really counts."<br />
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I'm doubtful there's a newspaper being published today that would go to the trouble to interview a housewife with six kids about the routine of dyeing Easter eggs, but the routine itself hasn't changed much, and is still repeated in most American kitchens to this day. Something about that feels awfully nice to me.<br />
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And thanks, Mom, for doing all you could to give us a sweet childhood. We miss you. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-17555071435624122462018-03-17T15:57:00.000-05:002018-03-17T16:13:43.734-05:00The power of a great book<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In 1994 I took a book called "Sacajawea" by Anna Lee Waldo from my mother-in-law's bookshelf. My very favorite genre of reading is historical fiction, so in spite of the sheer size of it I gathered courage and asked to borrow it from her.<br />
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Coming in at 1,332 pages, it's not a good 'beach read' choice. I've kept a journal of what I read for for the past twenty eight years. In 1994, I read thirteen books, Sacajawea being one of them. My eclectic list included Stomach Virus by Kathy Peel, two by Max Lucado, two John Grisham, one biography, two by Leon Uris and How to Win Friends and Influence People, by Dale Carnegie.* 24 years later, I barely remember most of my other reads that year, but Sacajawea still sticks with me.<br />
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I became so immersed in reading about this amazing woman's life that our dinnertime conversation often included, 'well Sacajawea'. To this day we have a standing family joke about it. And about the fact that Sacajawea cut off a couple of her fingers to signify mourning when her grandmother passed away. I've assured my family a similar sign of mourning at my own passing is not necessary.<br />
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About four years ago we were driving from Texas to Idaho and I realized we were very close to Sacajawea's grave, in a very ordinary native Indian cemetery, with a statue of her on one side and her actual grave on the other. <a href="https://www.history.com/news/whos-buried-in-sacagaweas-grave"> The cemetery Sacajawea is buried</a> in is actually a bit difficult to find, but well worth the effort. She's buried next to two of her children if I remember correctly. Cub Sweetheart was obliging enough to make a detour in our roadtrip and we spent a bit of time there.<br />
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When my mother-in-law passed away in 2007 I was able to take that paperback copy of Sacajawea with me, and it sits on my bookshelf, waiting for a day when I will take another summer to reread it. I treasure this book as much as I do some of her quilts, mixing bowls, and aprons.<br />
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Now I find myself a charter member of a new bookclub, The Nibs, where we only read old, long classics. Our current choice is Les Miserables and my translation is 1,194 pages long. That's less than Sacajawea, and now that I'm in a different season of life, not caring for children, it's very doable to read it in three months, when we'll meet to discuss it. (I imagine it'll be much more of a challenge to get through for the other five members, who are still raising children, or children themselves.)<br />
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One of the first things about CS, that told me he was different than any man I'd ever known, was that he recommended books to me. Big books. Wonderful books. Books he'd read in high school or college, and I'd never heard of, or dismissed them as something beyond me. I still remember reading Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, and Watership Down by Richard Adams at his recommendation. I'd read then we'd discuss over our bologna sandwiches in the lunch room. I had always been an avid reader, but mostly read junk. It had never occurred to me to read intentionally, to read to learn and open my small world.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cub Sweetheart when we were first sweethearts</td></tr>
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It might be accurate to say Cub Sweetheart was my very first bookclub which had two members. I've sometimes wondered if I fell in love with him because he was the first person who saw potential in me beyond typing and filing. Or maybe it's because he was darned good looking. Perhaps a bit of both?<br />
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I belong to two other bookclubs, but most of what we read in them is modern fiction. Which is nice and fine and fun to get together with other ladies over a glass of wine or lunch. But I'm really loving digging into dusty old books, stretching my brain, growing to love (or hate) the main characters, then meeting with a small group of people to discuss them. The priest in the first part of Les Mis stole my heart immediately; then I met Jean Valjean, and Fantine. I already know digging into this wonderful book will shape how I see the world, and it'll be one I'll remember for years to come.<br />
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As to that *"How to Win Friends and Influence People', it was recommended to me by a high school teacher, Mrs. Dupree, who taught Office Occupations, my career track at the time. We'd had a 'discussion' about something - I suspect it was my behavior or attitude - and her last comment to me was that I might consider reading this book. My response was to draw a moustache on her photo in my yearbook.<br />
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Mrs. Dupree, I did read the book, and you were right. I wish you'd been my Lit teacher instead. Who knows how it might have changed the trajectory of my life. And I'm sorry about the moustache. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-13881047828749146092018-03-12T16:39:00.002-05:002018-03-14T12:26:46.932-05:00Gratitude versus (Great) Expectations<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We're just back to Texas, from a visit to Idaho. Too short but oh so sweet. We crammed every single day with as much family time as we possibly could. Church twice at our kids' church (so wonderful to be in their new building!). Lots of going out to eat at favorite places with favorite people. We had one big shindig with everyone over to celebrate Cub Sweetheart's birthday. Steaks on the grill, enjoying our newly constructed deck, wild ping pong games downstairs, crazy noise level, while the two little girls ran up and downstairs. So good!</div>
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We'll head back to Idaho sometime in June, and the deck will be used hard for the next five months. I'm already looking forward to catching glimpses of the fawns that are bound to be hanging around below. I've ordered hanging baskets of flowers, and have picked out two all-weather rockers for the open side of the deck, with a tower heater to keep us warm on chilly evenings. Morning coffee and wine-thirty should be glorious there. Do I sound excited? I am! Those stairs lead to the hot tub below, which our two youngest Littles call 'Grammy's swimming pool'.<br />
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We got a bit of snow several times while we were there, which was nice. Nice because I got to enjoy it for a few days and then leave it. The last few days there you could feel the arrival of spring starting to show up, just a little bit. I'm thinking this deck will be a great place to put a hummingbird feeder too.<br />
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I read a book last fall, The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, and she had one line that caught my attention. I was listening to Audible on a treadmill at the time, so there was no highlighting or underlining but it stuck with me. I came home and told CS about it, and several days later he came back to me and told me it had been on his mind. The author relayed how someone had told her that seeing life through eyes of gratitude, rather than expectation had had a profound effect on them. CS and I have adopted this as our mantra -to we see our health, our marriage, our children, grandchildren, family, friends, finances, etc. etc. - ultimately our lives - through eyes of gratitude rather than through expectations met or not; when we manage to do so, it changes everything. We had this sign made and it sits above our kitchen cabinets in our little Huckleberry Haven home. I've got another one on order for our Little House on the Prairie.<br />
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My oldest daughter had the idea to start a small bookclub, where we'll read only very old books and meet to discuss them. They're SO long we've got a pace of two to three months to read each one. Bleak House was our first, and we're now set to discuss Les Miserables in June, when I'm back in Idaho. My 16 year old grandson is a member, and his first comment was, "I've never been to a bookclub, what do you do?" I've read a lot of books in my lifetime, but I'm fairly certain he's passed me in his 16 years. At age 16 he's read every single Sherlock Holmes, and so many really wonderful books; at age 16 I'd read every single Nancy Drew. More notable than what he's read is his retention and understanding of the books he reads. It was such fun to listen to his comments about Bleak House, hear how much insight he had.<br />
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When I learned our first read was going to be Bleak House, that same grandson asked me if I'd already read Great Expectations, also by Dickens. I told him that I'd read a few of Dickens' books but not that one. He insisted that I start there. I read it in December, and fell in love with Pip and had such fun with Miss Havisham. Creepiest, craziest ever character! I'm glad he encouraged me to read it, and was struck at what part 'expectation' played in the plot. (Sidenote: Masterpiece Theater did a great job of producing a short series of it if you're not up for reading 864 pages of old English. However, be sure you watch the one that stars Gillian Anderson as Miss Havisham.)<br />
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Our little bookclub of three has enlarged very quickly into six, so we've closed it for now. We have two high school students (so fun!) and perhaps when they graduate we'll open it up to more new members. I love, love, love that this reading group spans 46 years difference in age. We talked about BH, Dickens, literature and life for about an hour, with no prepared discussion questions, and had the most wonderful time. I sat there, with my daughter and grandson, and felt so grateful that life has unfolded to this. Not just loving family, but being true friends with them, and seeing it span generations.<br />
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Yes to Gratitude. No to Expectation. It's the key to so much of life, isn't it? </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-36097557362284753592018-02-24T22:11:00.003-06:002018-02-25T08:00:10.340-06:00Spending Time in the Growlery<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My keep-track-of-books for 2018</td></tr>
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I've recently been inducted as a member of the Nibs bookclub. My membership constitutes 1/3 of the roster, and I'm related to all the members. We vary in age from 16 to 62, and have agreed meetings will be held every other month, at which time we will consume pizza or chili or such, and talk about a monster of a classic book.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm enjoying the feel of a book in my hands for this one</td></tr>
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The first up is Bleak House by Charles Dickens. One of the very best things about being in a bookclub is that one is generally forced to read something out of their comfort zone. Bleak House is not one I would have EVER tackled, but I'm not the one choosing the reading list, so there it was, sitting on January's to do list, all 830 pages of it. That's two books plus some for most books written these days.<br />
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To get myself ready, I watched the entire series on TV first. Dickens is known for his colorful characters, and Bleak House doesn't disappoint. When my grandson (one of the best read people I know) heard we were reading Bleak House first up (he's one of our three members) he told me, "Grammy, you HAVE to read Great Expectations first."<br />
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So I spent the month of December doing just that. And I LOVED it. As soon as I finished reading it, I went searching and found the series had been done by PBS, so I was able to watch it too. It was SO good! If you haven't ever read it, give it a try. It's worth the work to get to know Pip and the amazingly creepy Miss Havisham.<br />
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I wondered if watching Bleak House before reading it would spoil it for me; instead, as I'm plodding along through the musty pages, I love putting faces to Esther, Mr. Jarndyce, Mr. Krook, Mrs. Jellyby, Lady Dedlock and others.<br />
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Bleak House as a TV series was great, but of course, as is almost always true, the book is better. So many sections were left out of the movie; like nuggets they pop up as I read through, encouraging me to forge ahead.<br />
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The last few days, coming back from a cruise with Cub Sweetheart, we must have been tired. Or ship lagged. Or something. Anyway, we were both a bit snippy and short with each other. Had I known within the pages of Bleak House was the perfection solution, I would have added a corner somewhere in this house as we were building it a year or so ago. Surely we could have set aside a mere 6' x 6' somewhere?<br />
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"Mr. Jarndyce called me into a small room next to his bed-chamber, which I found to be in part a little library of books and papers, and in part quite a little museum of his boots and shoes, and hat-boxes. "Sit down, my dear,' said Mr. Jarndyce. "This, you must know, is the Growlery. When I am out of humour, I come and growl here." "You must be here very seldom, sir', said I. "O, you don't know me!' he returned. 'When I am deceived or disappointed in - the wind, and it's Easterly, I take refuge here. The Growlery is the best used room in the house. You are not aware of half my humours yet."<br />
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A few weeks ago I visited the home of one of my neighbors, and was struck that she had the builders add a teensy, tiny little room right off the front of the house. Furnished with a bookshelf and a rocking chair, it was her 'prayer closet'. A room where she goes daily for her prayer time. My prayer time is generally spent walking the sidewalks of our neighborhood, rambling to God about whatever is on my mind. I don't expect God has much of a preference, but rather is just happy that we bothered to show up.<br />
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But a Growlery? That might have been a good addition to our home. Perhaps yours also? Pure brilliance on Dickens' part. A permanent 'time out' spot would likely have been put to constant good use in a household with ten children.<br />
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Trying to finish over 700 more pages in the next week, the book is my constant companion, reading in snippets as I find them, and an hour long soak in the tub every night. Perfect end-of-winter read, right about the time many of us could use a Growlery in our houses as we're all a bit weary of cold and wet and snow and gloom.<br />
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Post apologies, forty plus years delayed, to my high school Literature teacher; she likely would have enjoyed a bit of my enthusiasm for reading classics to have spilled into her classroom. How about you? Do you belong to a bookclub? And do you ever tackle what I refer to as a 'big book'? There's something to be said for pulling one of those musty doorstops off the shelves of your local library, and letting it come to life again. It's been said, 'the best time to plant an oak tree is fifty years ago, the next best is today.' I'm planting :-) </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-44253641139753458552018-02-07T22:11:00.000-06:002018-02-07T22:17:12.309-06:00A little catch up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been awhile since I've been here, so I thought I'd do a bit of catch up. So many days I think I'll stop in and post, but the flow of the day gets past me. So some sharing of the mundane stuff our days are made up of....</div>
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I went for a trim, showed the hairdresser a photo, and watched as she proceeded to cut off all the long parts of my hair. But it's hair, it grows fast, and I decided to just go with it. Really, what could I do? I couldn't stick it back on, so I decided to like it. It's the perfect spring/summer haircut, and I can go from bedhead to out the door in about five minutes. What girl doesn't want that?</div>
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One of my new years' resolutions or goals was to clean up my act a bit. To wear yoga pants less, wear make up more, fix my hair, take a little more time with myself. I went through my clothes, got rid of what I didn't need, and bought what I did. How on earth my hair got to be so silver/white I'll never know? But five or so years after deciding to go with my natural color I'm still happy about it. I'd rather people think I'm older from afar and decide I'm a bit younger when they get up close than the opposite. And I kind of like matching with Cub Sweetheart :-) </div>
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This was as random shot after we'd just cheered for the Mustangs, who at that point had a record of 0 and 6, but we sure had fun being part of the fan club. It turned into a fun family tradition, going to the game early on Saturday mornings, then the entire family going to a local diner for old fashioned breakfast. So fun! We enjoyed it so much we decided to keep it up at least once a month after the season is over.<br />
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The Mustangs never won but I am proud to report D2 scored every single basket that was made by his team. Which had two girls on it! I love the stage where you can whistle and whoop for them, and when they make a bucket they immediately look up in the stands to see if we're giving them a thumbs up. Sometimes they randomly tear across the court, in the middle of the game, for a potty break, or they fall and skin a knee and the mom runs across the court and gives them kisses. It's possibly the best age to cheer for them.<br />
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I'm one month into piano lessons, and am having SO much fun! We started at the very beginning, good ole Middle C, but with an Advanced Adult book, so it's moving along quickly. This teacher has a degree in piano, so she's a real stickler for theory and technique, and correct fingering, all of which I never bothered much with in previous lessons. She's a tiny thing, and once in awhile she surprises me by having me scoot over on the bench and she'll join me as we play duets. They make me a bit nervous because I'm so inclined to make 99,000 mistakes but this isn't her first rodeo and she manages to keep up with all my false starts. I'm so happy to be taking lessons again that I'm at 100% for practicing every single day since I started. And it's getting better. I keep telling myself playing the piano is a skill, and anyone can learn. Including me. It feels magical to me, to see black dots on paper, and transfer them to my fingers and beautiful sounds happen. After each lesson I sit with my book to look over what I'm learning next, and sometimes I look ahead at the end of the book to see what I'll be able to play in just a few months. I am forcing myself not to buy the next book, but everything in me is so anxious to see it, and see what I'll be learning next! The young kids taking lessons may learn it faster, but I doubt they're more dedicated or excited about the whole process.<br />
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I also found out yesterday that my teacher does student recitals; I thankfully found out today her adult students don't participate - hallelujah!<br />
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I've been reading quite a bit since the beginning of the year, and my nightstand is stacked up high. Right now I'm finishing up The Choice, by Dr. Edith Eva Eger, a Holocaust survivor who is in her 90's and still a practicing psychologist. She is an absolutely amazing person, and I've got the pages so dogged from turning them back I may have the library gnashing their teeth when they see how I'm returning it. Reading The Choice has spurred me on to read Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl, another Holocaust survivor. It's sold more than four million copies since it was published in 1959. I can't wait to read it.<br />
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Then I ran across "I'm Proud of You, My Friendship with Fred Rogers" by Tim Madigan, which is apparently going to be made into a movie. How fun is that?! It's a tiny slip of a book but from reading the jacket I know it's going to be a gem.<br />
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My daughter told me to find Anna Quindlen's book, "Miller's Valley". She promised it would resonate with me, my life story and Quindlen is a favorite author of mine. Looking forward to that one.<br />
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Then last, I've started Bleak House by Dickens and am determined to finish it in spite of watching the series on TV. If you haven't read it, do, and if you don't want to bother with that, at least watch the series. So, so good! The characters are absolutely amazing and all so memorable. CS watched the entire series with me, and we still quote funny lines from it.<br />
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This is a shot of sunrise from our little patio. We live in the first phase of our neighborhood and they're just about to start building homes in phase two, but you can see why I call this place our "Little House on the Prairie". We chose this house when the entire 33 acres was just a big cow pasture, and we're enjoying watching the homes go up all around us. I've also joined our neighborhood Bible study. We found a church that is a good fit for us, and are attending Sunday morning classes to find the right one for us. I've gone to one ladies' coffee, and also a couple of bookclub meetings since being back in Texas, and am enjoying being a part of our new neighborhood. My piano teacher lives 10 minutes from me, the vet is five minutes away, so gradually it's feeling more like our half-the-year home.<br />
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In March of this year CS and I will be celebrating our 37th anniversary. We didn't get to celebrate it last year, since my mother had just died and we were in the middle of moving. This year we decided to make it a priority, so we're doing the celebrating a bit ahead of schedule and leaving on a cruise this weekend. Headed for somewhere in the Western Caribbean, somewhere warm and sunny. I've got my library books, a floppy hat, and two swimsuits packed. That should just about cover it.<br />
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I'll be back in a week or so to let you know how it went, and what I thought of the several books I plan to read while I'm away.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Bev<br />
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P.S. I've also stepped away from Facebook (except for Messenger) for a variety of reasons, so I won't be linking to my blog posts there anymore. Hopefully those who have kept reading along will get notice I've posted. If you were following along on Facebook, you might want to use the button on my sidebar to subscribe by email, so you'll be notified of new postings. :-) </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-82955085074264060012018-01-23T13:15:00.004-06:002018-01-24T07:54:06.133-06:00Laugh until I cry, kiss the most beautiful girl in the world....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Kiss the most beautiful girl in the world' - how cute is that?!</td></tr>
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I recently overheard someone say they hated bucket lists. Really? Really?! I can see that the non-list makers of the world might not bother, but hate them? What on earth.....<br />
<br />
When Cub Sweetheart retired, he was a few days shy of 59 and I was a few months short of being 55. So sort of young, maybe, but after giving the same company over 35 years we felt the time was right. After the boxes were moved and unpacked 1200 miles south of where he'd shown up for work the past fifteen years, we realized we needed to find our bearings again. Purpose, an order to our days, and reasons to get out of bed in the morning.<br />
<br />
I'm of the mind there are very few problems in life that can't be solved with a spreadsheet, full of columns that have headings at the top and totals at the bottom. I made lists of places to volunteer, short day trips, etc. etc. I also made a bucket list for me, with a good number of items involving CS's presence since he's not the type to make one of his own.<br />
<br />
#1 Learn to play the piano<br />
#2 Learn to speak Spanish / Spanglish<br />
#3 Knit a sweater<br />
#4 Ocean trip with my mom and sister<br />
#5 Get family photos scrapbooked<br />
#6 Write my memoir<br />
#7 Go on a mission trip<br />
#8 Learn to dance<br />
#9 See the Grand Canyon with Cub Sweetheart<br />
#10 Visit NYC with Cub Sweetheart<br />
#11 Go to the Rosebowl with Cub Sweetheart<br />
#12 Go to Europe with Cub Sweetheart<br />
<br />
This was all written on a piece of paper, torn out of my yearly journal. Nothing fancy, and somewhat off the top of my head. Over the years I've made a few notes in the margins, crossed off an item or two and revised a couple.<br />
<br />
This spring CS will have been retired eight years, and we're now solid in our 60's. Time slips by, or it rushes past us, being used up with so many urgent things that won't matter a few years, or months, or even weeks down the road.<br />
<br />
As of today, 2018, I've accomplished a few of the things on the list; sadly one is impossible now and one had been crossed off. I didn't make resolutions for 2018, but I did set some goals. One of them was to revisit that list, and redo it.<br />
<br />
Here's my 2018 - updated version:<br />
<br />
<b>#1 Learn to play piano (I have my second lesson today and play a mean For He's a Jolly Good Fellow. Counting this one as an 'in process'.</b><br />
#2 Learn to speak Spanish - I now live in Texas and it would be very helpful<br />
<b>#3 Knit a sweater - I've done two - both baby but I'm counting them. </b><br />
<b>#4 Revised to an ocean visit with my daughters, and we went on a cruise two years ago. </b><br />
#5 (Removed photos) replaced with l'earn to swim laps for exercise'<br />
#6 The book is partially done, but I still don't know if I want to go fiction or memoir.<br />
<b>#7 Mission trip - we went to Guatamala in 2011.</b><br />
#8 Learn to dance - still terrible but hopeful<br />
#9 See the Grand Canyon - possibly this fall or next.<br />
#10 Visit NYC - on the someday list<br />
#11 Rosebowl - CS says when his college team, CU, plays we'll buy tickets. I think it might be more fun to attend when we don't care who wins.....<br />
#12 Europe - we've traveled to Mexico, Canada, but never Europe. Thinking about a Mediterranean cruise for our 40th.<br />
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So to the person who hated bucket lists, if you don't have a goal then you've already failed. In eight years I / we haven't accomplished them all, nor do we want to have done them all yet, but I / we have done four, or 25%. I so wish I'd been able to take my mother and sister to the ocean. We had plans to sit in beach chairs, all three of us with floppy beach hats atop our heads, and just watch the world go by. Sadly we never did this, and now my mother is gone. But I replaced that with a cruise with my two daughters. We took a total of two photos, but oh the memories we made.<br />
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I heard a pastor say, about five years ago, that he was continually struck that most people live their lives unintentionally. Just wake up and face the day, day in and day out; weeks, months and years go by, while dreams fall to the wayside. Having a little piece of paper in the front pocket of my daily journal keeps those hopes and dreams and plans in front of me. The whole premise of this blog is that I want to live my life intentionally. I want to <b style="font-style: italic;">number the days</b> because we all only get so many, and I want them to be filled with memories made with all those I hold dear. I want to use up every bit of this life God has given me.<br />
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I knew, years before my mother died, that when she was gone my biggest regret would be for all the things she so wanted to do, but never did. The places she wanted to go, the lives she wanted to impact, and the book she spent her entire life hoping to write but never did get around to. Her lack of resources, broken relationships and then her mental decline stole time she thought she still had. I am so very thankful for the trips we took together, driving across the mountains with Bruce Springsteen playing through the car's speakers (her choice, not mine), going to see her grandparents' home one more time and picking ripe figs off the tree in the backyard and popping them in our mouths, and standing on the deck of the boat, wearing our little blue raincoats and being showered with fine mist from Niagara Falls, pulling off the road and buying a striped watermelon from a farmer in bib overalls, and eating it for supper in our rented cabin that night. But I wish we'd done so much more. <br />
<br />
Do you have a bucket list, or a dream list, or a list of plans you want to accomplish in this lifetime? If you'd like to make some plans, but don't know where to get started go <a href="https://bucketlistjourney.net/my-bucket-list/">HERE. </a> One of my grandsons is only thirteen, but last year he made a Bucket List and it scope of it was amazing. That kid has dreams and plans!<br />
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If you don't have one, it might not hurt to watch <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0825232/mediaviewer/rm1965266944">THIS MOVIE </a>either. Make plans! Live big and brave! Dream far and wide! And if you don't accomplish them all? If you or I never do learn to dance worth a hoot or speak another language, or be able to do algebra (don't put that on your bucket list, please!)? At least we gave it a shot. Better to have planned and not accomplished it all than to not bother to dream at all. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-32164960043532845792018-01-16T22:55:00.004-06:002018-01-16T22:57:04.089-06:00Shortnin Bread <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
When I was ten or eleven years old, I desperately wanted a piano. In a house of six kids, wants weren't needs, and so they rarely came to be. Somehow my mother managed to come up with enough money to buy me an old, very worn upright. Nobody else in the family wanted to play, it took up an entire wall in the living room, weighed a ton, and there was no way my family had any money to spare. But she bought it for me all the same. It seems to me she told me once she used our family's entire tax return that year.<br />
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Mrs. Wiggins (don't you love that name?) lived a block up the street, and taught piano lessons in her home. We couldn't afford to pay for piano lessons, but somehow she and my mother came up with the arrangement that I'd clean her home once a week in exchange for a half hour lesson. Back then I was a bit embarrassed that, while my other girlfriends were having their paid for lesson, I was scrubbing and dusting all around them. Now I realize Mrs. Wiggins let me earn my lessons only out of the goodness of her heart.<br />
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I took lessons from her for a year or so. So many years later I still remember F-A-C-E and "Every Good Boy Does Fine"; my mother never, ever, ever had to make me practice. It was always something I dearly loved.<br />
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We finally reached the end of the school year, when recitals were held. I can still remember, 50+ years later, that I played 'Mama's Little Baby Loves Shortnin Bread' and oh, how I could play it. Fingers racing up and down the keyboard, I was practically a virtuoso..... :-) The day of the recital arrived, and my entire family showed up to support me, filling an entire wooden pew at the little Baptist church where the recital was held. It came to be my turn, and up I headed, to sit at the bench and play my piece.<br />
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Somehow, in the jumble of nerves, and in what felt like an out-of-body experience, I lost my place. I had absolutely no idea where to pick up so I just made up the rest of the song. Played and played and played until I thought I'd gone long enough, then I stopped.<br />
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God bless Mrs. Wiggins who never batted an eye, and led the group to applaud for me.<br />
<br />
We moved out of state the next school year. My dog and Barbie and that enormously heavy upright piano did not make the cut when my father was deciding what to load in the back of a u-haul and move us across the country. We never managed to buy another piano, and my dream fell to the wayside. <br />
<br />
About fifteen years ago, after my nest had emptied out, I decided to take lessons again. This teacher also taught out of her home, and I progressed a bit more. But I quit. We moved. Time went by, and still I had such a longing to really learn to play. So I put it on my bucket list, 'play Christmas carols badly'.<br />
<br />
So here I am, how many years later, and still wanting to learn to play. I tell myself, If I REALLY learn to play at 62, how well could I play after a few years of lessons, and how much could I progress over the next twenty years, and how much enjoyment could I get out of playing? I decided to just do it. I asked neighbors for recommendations for a teacher, and more than one led me to a retired music teacher who teaches out of her home. I phoned her, and yes, she accepts adult students. Even students who have quit more than once.<br />
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Yesterday was my first lesson, and I expected to be intimidated, nervous, unsure of myself, but I was just so happy to be there that I was none of those. This was not her first rodeo, and she started me out, sure and strong. She is delightful and warm and encouraging and I expect we are going to get along just fine. Today I sat down at Katie, the keyboard Santa brought me, and an hour flew by before I knew it. Katie has so many buttons and gadgets and an accomplished pianist could make her do amazing things. Right now I'm just thankful she fits in the little space in our office, and that she has a port in the back for headphones so Cub Sweetheart doesn't have to listen to me plunking away at beginner stuff.<br />
<br />
I read a quote somewhere (don't remember the source) that the best time to plant an oak tree is fifty years ago, and the next best time to plant an oak tree is today. That quote has spurred me on so many times, and especially as I am in this fall season of life.<br />
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I wonder, some of you out there, what dream have you given up on, set aside, put down? Maybe you feel, in the back of your mind, that it'll just never happen. You've waited too long, or you're a little too old, or there isn't money in the budget, or or or or<br />
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I so hope - even if, like me, you've quit more than once - you'll have the courage to dream again, put it - whatever 'it' is - back on the list. I know my mom, who made that huge sacrifice over 50 years ago, would be pleased to know I didn't completely give up on this dream of mine. Maybe someone out there is cheering you on too, hoping you'll have the courage to try again, or for the first time, whatever is calling to your heart.<br />
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P.S. I haven't told my new teacher that I have a bit of PTSD over the thought of a recital. Maybe, with time, I can even find the courage to give that another whirl. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-74187175912624379622018-01-04T23:21:00.001-06:002018-01-04T23:21:43.639-06:00Perfect Super Bowl recipe, to try now<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I had fully intended to tell you all about the keyboard Santa brought me for Christmas. She's so lovely! I named her Katerina, but as I plan to put her on my calendar at least 5 times a week, I've nicknamed her Katie. My dear piano, 2000 miles north of me, named Penelope, will be surprised when I return, after my time here in Texas with Katie and my soon to begin lessons. I plan to make Penelope's keys sing!<br />
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But that wasn't the point of this post. Stromboli was. Is.<br />
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When I was in Idaho I got the itch to take cooking classes. There is the most lovely cooking store, called Culinary Stone. Much like a Williams Sonoma, but more homey than that. It still has all the wonderful tools and such to be purchased, but there's also a deli where you can order lunch, or take home wonderful items to prepare in your own home; there's a wall of wine, fabulous cheeses, and the perfect little italian bakery tucked right next door. The free wifi, baked goods and coffee make it the perfect place to hide for a morning, or meet a friend for a little visit.<br />
<br />
My first class at the Culinary Stone was french cooking. A chef whose name I've forgotten, but with the most beautiful accent, showed us how to make a chicken dish, au gratin potatoes and some fabulous pudding dessert. I was smitten, and quickly signed up for more classes.<br />
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The most recent was with an italian chef named Jonathan. He's a local, so warm and down to earth. Taking one of his classes makes you want to run home and fill your kitchen with messes and smells and such. I've now taken three of his classes and have learned so much that I can't wait to sign up for more when we head north in June or so.<br />
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Before the class I couldn't remember the difference between a stromboli and a calzone, and would never have ordered either in a restaurant, let alone attempt to make one. Jonathan showed us there was nothing to it. I'd taken the class with a girlfriend and we met at our home, with our husbands, and we made another stromboli that turned out great. It was the perfect meal to go with Monday night football. After successfully recreating the meal I decided to make it a regular part of our menu planning here in Texas and Idaho.<br />
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To start, you'll need a batch of pizza dough. You can use the refrigerated kind, or whip up one of your own. If you have a stand mixer or a bread machine it's very easy to do. The dough can be made ahead of time and held on the counter in a covered, greased dish until you're ready for it.<br />
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Here's the recipe I used for dough:<br />
<br />
1/2 tsp salt<br />
3 cups all purpose flour<br />
1 1/2 tsp active dry yeast<br />
1 cup warm water<br />
2 tblsp olive or vegetable oil<br />
<br />
Measure all ingredients, and add to bowl of mixer or pan of bread machine. Use the dough setting on your bread machine or the dough hook on your stand mixer, following directions for your appliance.<br />
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Once the dough is ready, cover your counter with a sheet of parchment paper about a foot long.<br />
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Heat oven to 400 degrees.<br />
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Roll the dough out onto the parchment paper into a rectangular shape. Spread the dough with 1/3 of a jar of pizza sauce, leaving about 2 inches from the edge. Top the sauce with a handful of fresh spinach leaves, then top with pepperoni, ham, or meat of your choice. (Or leave off for a vegetarian dish). Add chopped veggies as you prefer. I usually throw on chopped onions, green peppers, black olives and mushrooms. Use your imagination here, or go as your family's taste prefers. Add 1 cup of shredded cheese of your choice.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't worry a lot about being terribly symmetrical...<br /><br /><span style="font-size: small;">Roll up the dough like a cinnamon roll, pinch the edges all around to seal and fold where the seam is. Lay the stromboli seam side down on a pizza dish or large cookie sheet. Brush the entire stromboli with an egg, using a basting brush. Cut several small slats across the top, being careful not to cut too deeply into the stromboli. Top with 1/4 cup of cheese and sprinkle with fresh or dried parsley. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to pop in the oven</td></tr>
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Bake for 15 - 20 minutes in a 400 degree oven or until golden brown on top. Remove from the oven and let sit for a few minutes, while you heat up the remainder of the pizza sauce.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love watching things bake in the oven - pure magic!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished product! </td></tr>
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This stromboli will serve 4 - 6 adults easily, especially if accompanied with a side salad.<br />
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I'll definitely be making this again for Super Bowl, and am planning to try a batch using gluten free flour mix (available at Costco).<br />
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Enjoy! </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-20986959700580772532017-12-31T12:52:00.002-06:002017-12-31T13:00:11.164-06:00Hopelessly Devoted to.....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<br />
2017 was full of blessings, and wonderful moments. It was also hard.<br />
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I'm beginning to understand why older people stay in their homes longer than they should - moving is tough on so many levels and we were crazy enough to do so twice this past year.<br />
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I also said goodbye to my mom early in the year. As time goes by I often feel like a bystander, watching me process it all. She was lost in the world of Alzheimer's and I wouldn't have wanted to add a single day to that, but what I'm feeling now is the finality of her being gone.<br />
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Something my mom and I shared, for so many years, was our love of making resolutions. Call them goals, plans, whatever - we both loved to end the year making big plans for the upcoming one. So resolution making is another thing I won't ever again share with her. (Please tell me we don't need to make resolutions in Heaven!).<br />
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At the end of 2016 I had such big plans for the year ahead, and did not accomplish a single one. It wasn't the year for that. Rather, it was more of a 'just keep breathing' kind of year. Not one to be easily discouraged, in my mother's absence, I'm carrying on in a style that would surely have her cheering me on.<br />
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I've also chosen a word of the year for the past five or so years, and 2018's is <b><i><u>DEVOTE.</u></i></b> For 2018 I hope and plan to <b><i><u>devote</u></i></b> myself to:<br />
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1. Focusing on my health - strength, flexibility, weight, eating, sleep schedule, and keeping up with routine health care visits. All of these were dismally neglected in 2017.<br />
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2. Set up routines - caring for our home, keeping up with finances and desk work, studying, personal care, regular daily exercise, time away for me, time with family and friends just for fun, and whittling away at projects. Set up these routines, and get them on the calendar.<br />
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3. Soulfood - which entails reading, piano, sewing, knitting, cooking, studying, learning: the goal / resolution is to read 30 or so books in 2018, find someone to give me piano lessons here (already set up in Idaho), and to study several subjects (general science, literature and world politics).<br />
<br />
After being the executor for my Mom's health, and her affairs after she died, and having several other people in my life who suffered the lose of someone, I'm sensing a need to refill my own soul, rather than just give out. I'm looking at where I can invest my heart and my time, and where I need to pull back. Life has a natural flow of seasons, and as our family grows and we try to manage the reality of living in two places, 2000 miles apart, if I continue to try to give and give and give, I find myself empty, with nothing to offer to those closest to me, and weary from the trying to do so.<br />
<br />
So three goals or resolutions that involve a whole heck of a lot more. I don't think my Mom is up there nodding her head at me, but I do think, if I could call her up and chat, and I shared these with her, she'd heartily approve. Except for the housework and cooking. Never one with a goal of being a domestic goddess, she'd tell me to not fuss over those and concentrate - devote myself to - what really matters.<br />
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If you're a resolution maker like me, <a href="https://collegelifemadeeasy.com/the-ultimate-list-of-2017-new-years-resolution-ideas/">here's the list of the top ones for 2018</a>. It looks like I chose #1, #2, #9, #11, #12, #13, #14, #15, #16, #23, and #38.<br />
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#17 - not so much. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-81768314714401367512017-12-23T14:32:00.003-06:002017-12-23T14:34:52.558-06:00A Trip on the Polar Express<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Conductor Papa with Jae Beth and Daniel</td></tr>
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Much like most traditions, when we started holding a trip on the Polar Express we had no idea it would stick. This tradition is one that we only do while we're in Texas, with our two Littles, Jae Beth and Daniel. Christmas is always wonderful with any and / or all of our grandkids, but there's an extra dose of special when we spend time with Jae Beth, our Christmas baby.<br />
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This year's Polar Express began in a local Mexican restaurant, where Papa slipped away and changed clothes. Everyone wants to do that in a local Mexican restaurant, right? The first year we did this the kids were young enough they were actually a bit afraid of him. The next year they thought it was a lot of fun. This year, when a man walked up to our table and started tell them he was on a schedule, handed them a ticket and started punching it, they were both delightfully surprised. Their parents had taken them to the restaurant in pjs, so they'd be ready to go.<br />
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Such a fun night, driving through downtown Dallas, seeing all the big store windows lit up, then into beautiful neighborhoods covered in lights, in a minivan rocking out Pandora's Children's Traditional Christmas music. We finished our tour at <a href="http://dfw.cbslocal.com/2014/12/24/christmas-display-turning-heads-in-university-park/">THIS HOUSE,</a> so fun!<br />
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Merry Christmas everyone. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-40534614431930087352017-12-20T18:42:00.003-06:002017-12-20T18:43:44.148-06:00I'll be your huckleberry....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of our deck, in process. </td></tr>
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<br />I began this post in mid-fall, and never came back to it. Rather than update, revise, etc., it seemed easier to just start where we are. Today.<br />
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We're back in Texas, 2000 miles south of our new place in Idaho. This is how we left our 'new' home in Idaho. That's a panoramic view (the deck is actually rectangular), but it gives a fun view of things. We're trusting when we go back for the summer things will be finished up, and the deck will be ready to enjoy. 2/3 covered, 1/3 not so we can grow tomatoes the deer won't steal, and stairs that lead down to the hot tub and the fire pit. Oh, but I think it's going to be great fun!<br />
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We left chilly Idaho, flew back to Texas, with Lily in tow, and landed in Dallas in 60 degrees. Which made it easier to leave cold and snowy Idaho behind for awhile. Now we're in the thick of things, getting ready for Christmas and the annual Polar Express. (Papa has lost his hat in the move, so we'll check Party City out tomorrow. That and some eyeliner for a moustache should have him good to go.) The dining room table is covered with packages needing wrapped. The Christmas letter is still in my head, but since I haven't missed writing one for over 20 years it'll likely happen in the next day or so. I have yet to bake a single thing, but if I get time for that I'll start with a batch of Russian Tea Cakes (or Sandies) and go from there. They are such Christmas perfection I may feel like that's all we need.<br />
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2017 was quite the year. Full of wonderfulness for sure, but also saying goodbye to my Mom, and my sister's husband passing away after two years of battling lung cancer. We moved twice. Nobody should move twice in one year. If I only set one New Year's Resolution it will be to not move in 2018.<br />
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I've pondered lately my lack of writing this year, very unlike me. Writing in itself is an outpouring of the heart, sharing of the soul. I'm not sure if my lack of words to screen was from losing my mom or just being weary from coming and going so much. Either way I'm hoping to come back here more often in the New Year, which is just around the corner.<br />
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No promises but that's the plan. xoxoxo<br />
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Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-10775607999886910292017-10-09T14:27:00.002-05:002017-10-09T14:27:40.765-05:00Little House on a Hill<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I posted a few weeks ago that we are moving. Again. When we had no plans whatsoever to move this summer/fall, but here we are.<br />
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Moving day is just about upon us. Our current home looks like a bomb went off, and we heard yesterday the buyers would like to do a walk through today. Oh my. Hope they either can remember what it looked like a month ago when they bought it, or that they have vision enough to imagine what it's going to look like when all our <strike>junk</strike> important stuff we can't live without is out of here.<br />
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So here's what happened: we were out for a drive after church, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Not looking for a specific house but just looking at areas of our Idaho town we'd never seen before. We came upon a little house sitting down from the road, with a FSBO sign in front of it, so we walked down to check it out.<br />
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Looking through the front door, it was clear the house was vacant, and all we could see through was lots of old light oak trim that needed painting, and this view through the living room windows:<br />
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We walked around the house a bit and saw this:<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lXSVQFaD0W0/WdvKKWcwQwI/AAAAAAAAEnA/SRtcds_qfDQ6lWue6EbpVJozoNipXRYUwCLcBGAs/s1600/ISa9dd5xnllx351000000000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="207" data-original-width="306" height="270" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lXSVQFaD0W0/WdvKKWcwQwI/AAAAAAAAEnA/SRtcds_qfDQ6lWue6EbpVJozoNipXRYUwCLcBGAs/s400/ISa9dd5xnllx351000000000.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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and this:<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-noSOUKtABiM/WdvKKRi6ujI/AAAAAAAAEnE/b_1Tl-H3MhswMVXdHHa8QDNFo239itqlgCLcBGAs/s1600/Hot%2Btub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-noSOUKtABiM/WdvKKRi6ujI/AAAAAAAAEnE/b_1Tl-H3MhswMVXdHHa8QDNFo239itqlgCLcBGAs/s400/Hot%2Btub.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Cub Sweetheart isn't a big fan of sitting in hot tubs, and even less of a fan of taking care of them, but I LOVE them! I tried to tell him I was sorry it was there, but just couldn't pull it off.<br />
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A few days later we got to go inside the house and saw this:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Living room looks out over a half acre of trees and woods, and has a beautiful view. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Downstairs has a room that will be perfect for our Littles to play video games, ping pong, eat pizza, and generally make noise and mess. Perfect!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's a little nook to the right of the stairs for a dollhouse and a table and chairs for our Little girls to play. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Master bedroom has a beautiful view to wake up to</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love how the house is nestled down, off the main road, just tucked away. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--u2Hm8wPQVg/WdvKKuLPHLI/AAAAAAAAEnQ/hv6ruIGnJqYac-d7NXfao5IfHmC8p2h5QCLcBGAs/s1600/ISqllwcbjmg4bj1000000000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="207" data-original-width="306" height="270" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--u2Hm8wPQVg/WdvKKuLPHLI/AAAAAAAAEnQ/hv6ruIGnJqYac-d7NXfao5IfHmC8p2h5QCLcBGAs/s400/ISqllwcbjmg4bj1000000000.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from ground level of back yard</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MVArMoPNQUE/WdvKKt5oJtI/AAAAAAAAEnU/YlNBqW49pkcgCIhDFaNCRD2imvY1q3G8wCLcBGAs/s1600/ISu43i1rbuhoyj1000000000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MVArMoPNQUE/WdvKKt5oJtI/AAAAAAAAEnU/YlNBqW49pkcgCIhDFaNCRD2imvY1q3G8wCLcBGAs/s400/ISu43i1rbuhoyj1000000000.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet little kitchen, just waiting for me to cook and bake. </td></tr>
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So far we've had all the trim painted bright white, cleared out a gazillion shrubs so we can put in a fence for Miss Lily, and we've got people lined up to add a deck off the living room in about a month or so.<br />
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We also added just a few touches to brighten things up a bit:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GtFoxNA_uWA/WdvKI9j9SvI/AAAAAAAAEpg/jjcIRXUKspwiyHHofuErQX5TOQgunTymQCEwYBhgL/s1600/Bench.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GtFoxNA_uWA/WdvKI9j9SvI/AAAAAAAAEpg/jjcIRXUKspwiyHHofuErQX5TOQgunTymQCEwYBhgL/s400/Bench.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sweet little bench outside for seasonal decor, made by Tom the Bench Guy...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AS-L_QLJ-60/WdvKJHOgFAI/AAAAAAAAEpg/mcBnKJ_L5pAfV_DChSXq6PdGmLIBpQ-WgCEwYBhgL/s1600/Blue%2Bdoor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AS-L_QLJ-60/WdvKJHOgFAI/AAAAAAAAEpg/mcBnKJ_L5pAfV_DChSXq6PdGmLIBpQ-WgCEwYBhgL/s400/Blue%2Bdoor.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We've never gone so bold with a front door, but after a month of considering it, it still felt right. Huckleberry, our bear sentinel, told me he likes it a lot. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ohN-Gm-Brkk/WdvKJGX22qI/AAAAAAAAEpg/FN0uNms5-n4dTtsJALAkpye0_ElRfzh6gCEwYBhgL/s1600/Chair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ohN-Gm-Brkk/WdvKJGX22qI/AAAAAAAAEpg/FN0uNms5-n4dTtsJALAkpye0_ElRfzh6gCEwYBhgL/s400/Chair.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I bought a new chair from T J Maax for our bedroom. She's waiting in our current garage for me. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7oJu-efmZPQ/WdvKKKjaOaI/AAAAAAAAEpg/1NM6iuCvH5UzVGW3ROnDv03M2cQMs3RywCEwYBhgL/s1600/Deer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7oJu-efmZPQ/WdvKKKjaOaI/AAAAAAAAEpg/1NM6iuCvH5UzVGW3ROnDv03M2cQMs3RywCEwYBhgL/s400/Deer.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of wildlife on a daily basis, herds of 7-10 deer, flocks of turkeys and quail. I'm okay if they all stay.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">So that's what we're up to - moving, again. Even though we had no intention of doing so. A bit crazy around here right now, but I'm thinking in just a week or so it'll simmer down. I'll be back then with more photos. </span></div>
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Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-4309102407451584802017-09-21T13:20:00.000-05:002017-09-21T13:20:22.574-05:00Summer Slipped into Fall <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Summer is officially over. It was the most wonderful season, possibly because we didn't really do a thing. Rather, I started each morning on our covered patio, sipping coffee and reading a devotional, journaling a bit, and before I knew it the day was over and we were out there sipping a glass of wine as the sun went down.<br />
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I didn't get wet a single time this summer, other than showers and baths. No swimming in lakes, only a few ice cream cones, one sort of camping trip that derailed because of technical problems. I didn't blog, didn't write, didn't sew, didn't do anything crafty.<br />
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I guess we were more human beings than human doings, which was quite lovely. We spent a lot of time with family, read books, watched movies on Netflix, ate super simple meals that were planned at the last minute.<br />
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Possibly the most exciting thing we did all summer was join Costco.<br />
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And seriously, the membership fee is totally worth it for the guacamole, the $8.00 bottles of premixed margaritas and the big bags of tortilla chips. In my humble opinion they don't really need to carry much of anything else, although they do. You can go in for guacamole and come out subscribing to Direct TV, or having purchased a refrigerator or new sofa or cashmere sweater. And of course you can go in starving and come out not needing to cook dinner. I'm thinking brilliance would be to take your husband along, late in the afternoon, and come home to skip dinner.<br />
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So fall has arrived in the inland northwest. Yellow buses drive by our house every morning, and there are very few kids wandering the neighborhood during the day. The trees are dropping little reddish yellow leaves. I pick up a few every morning on my walk with Lily, stuff them in the pocket of my red, rainproof jacket, to take home and press, then mail to our grandkids 2000 miles south.<br />
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It's finally, finally, finally started raining, those rains that fall soft, and so gentle that you have to poke your head out the door to be sure wet stuff is actually coming down. That's the best kind - it soaks into the water-starved ground, and sets a fog of clouds in front of the mountains at the end of our street.<br />
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We've lately had chili, potato soup, minestrone, lasagna and pumpkin bread. That after a summer of tacos, cobb salad, slices of watermelon, shish kabobs and burgers on the grill. Somehow when the temperature drops everything in me wants to throw something in the crockpot. Cub Sweetheart is, as always, just happy to be fed. I love that about him.<br />
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I've pulled out a half knit sock to finish, and a quilt top I pieced ten years ago. Finally took it to the quilt store and asked the woman at the counter to please choose a backing for me that has a lot of forgiveness for a pitiful hand quilter. Done is always better than perfect, so done it'll be over the next few months of football season.<br />
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We drove to Yellowstone a week ago, saw the most gorgeous animals - a herd of elk, an eagle soaring overhead, the tiniest little deer mouse, a beautiful dark brown moose munching on a tree, and buffalo as big as our jeep. When one walked right up to our window I shot a photo, then rolled up the window, a bit afraid he'd decide to ram us. Driving home we came over a pass in Montana and it started snowing like crazy, big beautiful globs of white falling down all around us.<br />
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Back in Texas, where we have other family, they are dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey; I have a first cousin, who happens to be a police officer, whose home has four feet of water in it. If you haven't given to any causes for the Hurricane Harvey relief, find one. My cousin's (the police officer's) GoFundMe is <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/bring-some-peace-to-the-boazs">HERE</a>. All those small donations will add up and make a difference in someone's life, even if it's just a sense of encouragement. Hurricane season doesn't end until at least October. It's certainly looking like this could be a rough season.<br />
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Times like this, I don't know about anyone else, but I take comfort in knowing things are not out of control, as they may appear. Rather, there is a big God running the show, and He's not surprised at all of this. He has a plan that is way bigger than my little brain can comprehend. I'm going to trust, and try to make a difference for someone else who is being directly affected by the storms swirling all around them.<br />
<br />
I thought, more than once over the summer, that I'd come here and post but something inside me knew I needed downtime. My mother's been gone now almost eight months - hard to believe it's been that long already. She left each of us four kids a little bit of money, and I took some of it and bought myself something that I think would please her very much. More about that later.<br />
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Oh, we also sold our townhouse a few weeks ago, and bought another little house with a mountain view. More about that later too. Obviously I need to some catching up! Happy Fall everybody. Bake something with pumpkin in it, and give half of it away to a neighbor. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-255529175653703032017-07-28T13:34:00.002-05:002017-07-28T13:43:24.104-05:00Summer - month one<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Exactly a month has gone by since I was here. I've written umpteen posts in my mind, but they all seemed to flit away. Which is maybe fitting for summer.<br />
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Instead of blogging I've:<br />
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traveled back to Coeur d'alene, Idaho - possibly the most perfect place on earth to spend summer<br />
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furnished our covered patio with chairs, a firepit, rug, and a funky little cart I found at a junk store<br />
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planted three lilac bushes next to the patio so that, in years to come, they will not only shade our patio, but bless us with beautiful flowers and lovely smells<br />
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planted a pot of herbs to snip at when I'm cooking supper<br />
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gained two pounds instead of losing five, but we won't dwell there<br />
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read several books, including Black Like Me and Rise - I recommend both. About to start another from the stack next to my bed - decisions, decisions<br />
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rejoined our rec center and used it once in two weeks<br />
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started to sew pillow shams for the bed three times, making pretty much no progress whatsoever<br />
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hosted my baby brother for a visit, which explains at least one of the two pounds put on<br />
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sluiced for star garnets with same brother, and found two. Teensy tiny but amazing to look at under a microthingamajig<br />
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had multiple popsicle dates with our grandkids on our newly furnished patio. Red is my favorite popsicle color. Little is my favorite kind of people to visit me.<br />
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hosted our daughter and son-in-love for a 'hear all about it' get together - which might have been the cause of another of those pounds put on<br />
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taken on mentoring a young couple with their finances, one of the most rewarding ways I ever get to serve<br />
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gone back to serving in children's ministry on Sunday mornings, a favorite for me.<br />
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went to see The Sandlot with our oldest grandchild, fun summer movie!<br />
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finished the second sock of the pair I started back in March. Moving on to dishcloth knitting because it doesn't take brain power, is great lap work for those road trips, and makes the perfect housewarming or hostess gift when you throw in a bottle of Mrs. Myers anything<br />
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Donated the purse I bought from Target because my purse is so heavy it busted the strap off, and I can't live without a single thing that's in there, and went back to a Vera Bradley bag. They're indestructible and washable - a combination hard to beat.<br />
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So - now an entire month of summer has slipped by, and we're loving being here, but perhaps a little less celebrating with food, a little more time at the rec center, but also lots of curling up with books, spending time with family and friends, and a few more days of routine tossed in to keep things balanced.<br />
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All things in moderation. Which means I'll be back in a month or less. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-40894112946836035272017-06-28T14:33:00.003-05:002017-06-28T17:21:28.159-05:00Flying north with dogs and big feet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Disclaimer: these are not actually my feet; my toes are much more crookedy than these!</td></tr>
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It seems like only a little while ago we were moving into our Little House on the Prairie. Alas, it's just about time to go - north that is. We moved in here the last day of March, now we're heading back to northern Idaho, and will head south before Thanksgiving.<br />
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The last few times we made this trek we drove, all 2100 miles, which usually ended up being more like 3,500 by the time we went down rabbit trails to visit family and friends along the way. Ends up it's twice as expensive to drive, and much easier on our backs and backsides to fly. Cub Sweetheart flies on points, I am his 'companion' and Miss Lily is the only one we have to put out cash for. So flying it is.<br />
<br />
Lily becomes my 'carry-on', at a fee of $95, and has to spend the entire flight in a little doggie suitcase with windows, which she despises, so she wears the world's smallest bark collar. I not only have to pay for her to sit where my size eleven feet are supposed to go, but they don't allow me another carry-on. Seems to me if I'm paying for what would otherwise have been a free carry-on I should get another one. But I don't. So I move all my stuff, plus my real purse, into the world's largest purse, and off we go. We resemble Mary Poppins and her carpetbag I suspect.<br />
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We fly into Spokane, and alas, there are no direct flights between there and DFW, which makes for fun walking Lily through the airport. She always gets lot of snuggles and smiles, because she is quite possibly the cutest dog on the planet. We usually find ice cream somewhere, which we hope she thinks makes up for having to spend hours in her dog suitcase.<br />
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Once we're settled into our CDA home, we'll jump immediately into celebrating the 4th of July. My mother was born on the 4th, and always said she loved that the entire nation celebrated her birthday every year. This will be our first year with her not here to celebrate, but maybe there are fireworks in heaven? Although she always loved the BBQ, watermelon and homemade ice cream much more.<br />
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Later in the month my baby brother is flying up to spend a few days with us. He's never been to that part of the country, so we're excited to show him around. He loves, loves the outdoors and is a rock hound, so I expect he's going to love being there. We're planning to suck one or both of our son-in-loves into taking him fishing on one of the lakes there. Hopefully he'll catch something big enough that he doesn't have to lie about it.<br />
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We've got spots reserved for camping with friends the middle of August, in Thor, our pop-up. September we'll be driving to Yellowstone with family for a handful of days, then in October we've booked a ten day California coastline bus trip.<br />
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So obviously, I'm / we're planning to be on vacation for the next few months. The past four months have been full to overflowing with emotion, loss, moving, and more hard work than we're really up to these days, so we're going to counter balance that with an extra helping of goofing off for the next few.<br />
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To bring that about I've come up with three weeks of summer menus. All the meals are easy peasy lemon squeezy; there are repeats of things like tacos, pizza, stir fry, grilling because who wants to go three weeks without all of those? I'm keeping desk work, housecleaning, errands, and anything of that nature as minimal as possible. No projects, no big plans, and not a single solitary thing that needs to be written in ink on a calendar on a weekly basis.<br />
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This little blog is one of almost a handful I've had, but all in all I've been coming here to write for over ten years now, so it's obviously something that feeds my soul. It's not on my work/obligation list. I won't be writing 'post' on my calendar, but will be popping in now and then to show and tell what we're up to.<br />
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Those days of shimmering heat, brilliant blue skies with not a cloud in sight, ice cream cones melting faster than you can lick them up, watching Littles jump off docks into ice cold water, nights where campfires and fire flies are the only light, curling up in a hammock or patio chair, lazy mornings of staying in pjs til well after what is respectable, and meandering conversations that spring up over patio tables or fences - they're all too precious and fleeting to do anything so serious as bill paying, or bathroom cleaning any more than is absolutely necessary. Surely that's why God made winter, right?<br />
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We'll talk soon, on the other side. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-77735264600675622352017-06-25T13:31:00.000-05:002017-06-25T13:33:22.493-05:00Memory Lane - Trampolines<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm thinking it was about 1990, and Leslie would have been about 9 years old. An age where she got maybe $5.00 a week in allowance, and that was if we had enough left in the budget to actually pay out what we'd promised.<br />
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Some friend of hers got a trampoline, which I'm sure made them infinitely cooler than every single other kid in the class. All the kids wanted to flock to that kid's house, play in their yard, be their BFF forever. So Leslie decided she needed one too. What nine year old doesn't want their house to be the 'go to' place?<br />
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I knew her father would say no. No way kind of no. So I had the talk with her about timing was everything, and she'd have to think out her reasons for wanting one, and convince him. And good luck with that. He's always been very safety minded, considering the risk, which would also include anyone who jumped on that trampoline in our yard, and might consider a law suit at the end of the day if things went south.<br />
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That same father had installed an enormous piece of board on the wall of our basement play room. What is now called a white board was then called a piece of board you'd use to put up walls instantly in a trailer, so we bought one that was about four feet by eight feet, and he'd hung it up for the kids to draw on.<br />
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Leslie had her mind set, so she called a family meeting. Attendance was mandatory, all family members must be present. She planned the meeting, with handouts for everyone, points of importance written out on the marker board, and snacks prepared and served. That skinny kid stood in front of the board, going through her rationale step by step, as to why this was a good idea. And of course buying a trampoline is never a good idea.<br />
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At the end of her presentation, she opened the floor for questions, which were asked, and answered. Then each of us was given a small piece of white notepaper and asked to give her feedback.<br />
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Yesterday, cleaning out a box of old photos, I came across the notes, and even though nobody wrote their name on theirs - all were 'anonymous' - of course I knew whose was whose.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mama's</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad's</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leslie's (the proposer)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah, the 'could care less' older sister</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny, the younger brother who would benefit but not have to pay!</td></tr>
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At the end of the day, her father agreed with the impossible stipulation that she would have to raise the money all by herself. (You'll note the mother said 'the whole family would have to pay.') That skinny nine year old put a koolaid stand on wheels and went door to door. She sold stone soup. She bathed dogs, walked dogs, did chores for people, and put on plays in our backyard. Within less than two months she'd earned the impossible amount of $250 and her father took her to the store, and against his better judgment, let her buy the trampoline. He took it home, set it up, and shuddered every time he saw them playing on it in our side yard. Where all the kids flocked, Leslie's cool factor tripled overnight, and even the dog joined in the fun.<br />
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Ten years and two houses later, when the trampoline was set up in the back yard and teenage boys were jumping off our deck onto the trampoline at a frightening speed, it was decided, by Leslie herself, that the trampoline was too dangerous to have. The demographic of users had changed. She took it apart and dragged it all to the curb, then watched the trash men haul it away.<br />
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Sweet memories of times gone by. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-8403327078427786262017-06-14T10:49:00.000-05:002017-06-14T10:49:40.527-05:00A Bit of Rambling...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Almost two weeks have slipped by, and since June is the loveliest of all months, I don't want it to go so quickly! I keep thinking I'll come here and post but nothing of real consequence has happened.<br />
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Since June 1....<br />
<br />
I had a birthday, #62, for which I will start getting a nice allowance check in a month or so. No tattoo or toe ring or shoes or hairstyle will made 62 young, so it's especially nice that, to make up for that not-so-youngness, you start getting paid for being a senior citizen.<br />
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The first 2/3 of my birthday was spent in pajamas, unbrushed teeth, talking to people who love me, having a visit from our sweet next door neighbor, after which I snuck away all by myself to Chipotle where I sat and read a book while I ate alone. Such a treat! (Said no extrovert ever, but I loved it.) Then we met our kids for an impromptu dinner, where they showed up with flowers and cupcakes and we ate onion blossoms and steak and sweet potatoes til we were stuffed.<br />
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The best birthday present was that I saw the cornea specialist who told me to come back IN A YEAR! So I went to the optometrist and spent another gazillion dollars and had an eye exam and ordered bi-focals. Has anyone ever been so excited to get new bi-focals? It's been three years since I lost mine and then injured my eye, so this has been my goal - to get prescription glasses where I can read the aisle markers at Walmart and Target, but also look down and read my list, or see the GPS and also the speedometer with a glance, rather than reaching across the seats to switch glasses all the time. Hoorah for me! I also didn't spend a fortune on designer frames, since I think the words 'bi-focal- and 'cool' cannot be used in the same sentence anyway. I wasn't willing to spend the extra $200 to not have a line in my glasses because #1 I like knowing where the line is in life, and #2 even without a line I'm pretty sure nobody is going to mistake me for a twenty or forty year old.<br />
<br />
When the eyeglass fitting woman showed me frames with purple swirly temple pieces I stood there for just a minute and considered telling her if I'm wearing white underwear I have to also wear a white bra. That purple temple pieces would completely throw me when I choose to wear a red or pink or green top, so I went with boring tortoise shell. Which matches white underwear nicely. And I chose to not overshare.<br />
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We've started watching America's Got Talent, which maybe nobody watches but it's our favorite summer show, and we're loving it. When you're feeling down at all, watching Simon Cowell be nice to people is sure to lift spirits. I don't know why he's nice on this show but he is, and it somehow always slightly restores my faith in people to see it. And of course there are contestants that just blow you away, not with their talent, but with their fortitude in facing life. Always gives me an attitude adjustment, which I need on a regular basis. We've also just begun watching The Man in the High Castle, so we're a bit lost, but it's an interesting series.<br />
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Books have been grabbing me. I just finished Beartown by Fredrik Backman, which I absolutely did not love. The writing was good, the character development good, but I didn't love anyone, and the language and material was rough enough that I was disappointed. It's sure to be a bookclub hit, but I didn't love it.<br />
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I have come to realize we have our very own Man Called Ove here in our neighborhood, so that's fun to watch unfolding. If you don't know what I mean, read that book by Backman. It's wonderful!<br />
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I've started reading a new author, Sarah Addison Allen. Her first book, Garden Spells is interesting and a fun summer read. I've got the sequel sitting on my nightstand, which is always fun. I'm also reading a book called Citizen Christians (study of Christianity and Culture and Politics), and Loving Your Daughter-in-law, by Cheryl Oliver Pollock. I've been a mother-in-law for almost twenty years now, and have had a DIL for over 13 years, but the book would apply to son-in-laws too, and man alive, has this book shown me so many mistakes I've made! Some ignorance, some pride, some mother's fingers that don't want to let go, so it's been a really great read for me. Lots of things I need to do differently. Thank you to my sweet DIL who has loved me through this learning curve.<br />
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Summer always seems like the perfect time to curl up with a book, and I try to have a fiction and non-fiction going at the same time. Rest the brain - stretch the brain. Repeat.<br />
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We've got our first neighborhood get-together tomorrow night, with about 25 families now moved in. The pool is officially open, I'm using the treadmill, and enjoying living here so far. I'll be okay when the roads and sidewalks are all in, and Miss Lily's paws aren't orange from the clay all around us, but it's feeling more like home every day.<br />
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Except that we're already up into the mid-90's so it's just about time to head back north. We'll be leaving for Idaho the beginning of July, and staying there til after Halloween, when Texas should be back into the 70's. These are the times when I wish I could just 'beam me up Scotty' and go from one place to another within minutes. Wherever I am, I'm missing the ones we're not with, but this is when I remind myself women used to watch young daughters and sons pull away in wagon trains and head west, not to be seen for years or ever.<br />
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One of my grandsons has taken it upon himself to be my pen pal by email. So cute. It's very fun to see what interests a twelve year old, and have him describe his latest Lego creation or explain what a spinner is. Very sweet. ( and in spite of my advancing age, I did feel cool that I already knew what a spinner was!) I'm so thankful we live in a time where we can email, text, and best of all - Facetime. Our grandkids are growing up in an age where they don't think it's weird at all to talk to me through a computer screen, and I'm just happy to see their sweet faces.<br />
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So that's what we're up to - nothing riveting. Which may be the definition of a perfect start to summer. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-15635530139121085042017-06-01T10:02:00.003-05:002017-06-01T10:02:51.682-05:00Summer start-up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: left;">We're on a little break from watching Littles, but here are a few photos from the past few days. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">We swam in our new neighborhood pool, only to find out two days later it's not actually open yet. No wonder we had it all to ourselves.....</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AQ6xvYu7Y6M/WTArZ5oLdPI/AAAAAAAAEhg/PIg8VGW5zLQe2GDveZWiVZROvNEG-r1ywCK4B/s1600/18766805_10211280483200343_4647480195505909893_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AQ6xvYu7Y6M/WTArZ5oLdPI/AAAAAAAAEhg/PIg8VGW5zLQe2GDveZWiVZROvNEG-r1ywCK4B/s400/18766805_10211280483200343_4647480195505909893_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Papa took the Littles fishing, which involved baiting hooks with wiggly worms. There happened to be several kids in the park who just wanted to hold the worms. So he obliged. I took photos. </span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody>
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<tr><td><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rcvah85ZZKY/WTArlQWgRYI/AAAAAAAAEho/0zcDOtFVuhQedcG1H9YAE3T_qtU2g4I8gCK4B/s1600/18814579_10211280496880685_1046113638872026707_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rcvah85ZZKY/WTArlQWgRYI/AAAAAAAAEho/0zcDOtFVuhQedcG1H9YAE3T_qtU2g4I8gCK4B/s400/18814579_10211280496880685_1046113638872026707_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">One Little managed to catch eight bluegill. One couldn't get a single one to the bank. But she looked awfully cute trying.</span><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5poVOHa8ra0/WTAr15bNs0I/AAAAAAAAEhw/mDnnHQFnDBIgnKwIggCThztnEIYUyOxkQCK4B/s1600/18815339_10211289474185112_8304504909908231881_o.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5poVOHa8ra0/WTAr15bNs0I/AAAAAAAAEhw/mDnnHQFnDBIgnKwIggCThztnEIYUyOxkQCK4B/s400/18815339_10211289474185112_8304504909908231881_o.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Finally, we spent the day doing some cleaning out and culling, which resulted in the deep need for a rootbeer float at Sonic. Someone small and furry might have gotten her own bowlful. </span></td></tr>
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Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4689215511584180257.post-56531544240329865542017-05-26T07:55:00.000-05:002017-05-26T07:55:15.634-05:00Kicking Off Summer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CDbaMsXV0gY/WSeOxUMKYKI/AAAAAAAAEhE/W8BNifZREQQZrEE40mJfz8O-npfWNP8AwCLcB/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="189" data-original-width="266" height="227" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CDbaMsXV0gY/WSeOxUMKYKI/AAAAAAAAEhE/W8BNifZREQQZrEE40mJfz8O-npfWNP8AwCLcB/s320/images.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I know the first day of summer is June 20, but for me it all starts on Memorial Day. That makes for a full three months with no school, now that most states start in late August.<br />
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When I was growing up we always, always, always started school the Tuesday after Labor Day, but now kids have to go back when the very last bit of summer is hanging on. How sad must it be, to be a kid, and try to go to sleep at night while you can still hear the crickets chirping, and there's still some last bits of daylight left outside?! Just because you have to get up in the morning and head off to school?<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is our granddaughter, Jae Beth's last day of first grade. I believe our Idaho Littles go another week or so, which seems wrong too, now that it's FINALLY warm and sunny up there. Let the kids out for pete's sake! (and the teachers too, for that matter.) Summer is too long said nobody under the age of 18 ever.<br />
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I get the privilege of picking Jae Beth up from school, with an early dismissal, and she chose Dairy Queen as our place for immediate celebrating. Then we're off to find a field to fly a kite, feed the fish and turtles in the local pond, and leave some of our painted rocks in nooks and crannies for other kids to discover. That'll be our out-of-the-gate kick off of summer 2017.<br />
<br />
Saturday I'll be back at my house for the weekend, and I've already given Cub Sweetheart a heads up that I'll quite possibly be ready for a date. I've heard the newest Pirates of the Caribbean is just out, and I have loved every single one of them before, so that's a possibility. I also discovered our town has free outdoor concerts every Saturday night throughout the summer, and all we need is our lawn chairs. We'll watch the forecast and decide - either one would be fun.<br />
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However, come Monday we'll be celebrating Memorial Day with burgers and dogs on the grill, potato salad, deviled eggs and watermelon. Because at our house that's the beginning of summer, and that's worth celebrating, wherever you live, even if you have to go back to school on Tuesday. </div>
Bevhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08697132925192848110noreply@blogger.com0