Today is Father’s Day. This is my daddy, whom I have written about often. We had 17 years together. I’ve had 50 years of life beyond those 17 years. Without him. Do I miss him, even 50 years later? Well, yes.Continue reading “One Best Thing”
My oldest daughter has an SUP. Stand up paddleboard, in case you need to know. Her mother-in-law also has one. They rave about how fun they are, how easy they are to use, how great the muscular work-out they provide.
So I sure enough wanted to try and see for myself last November in the bay water of Palacios, Texas. Perhaps I should have received warning signals from the opposing phrases “easy to use” and “great work-out”. But, of course, I didn’t. Read on.Continue reading “‘Sup? oh my….SUP”
I had a “moment” the other day. It all started when I saw my hairbrush while getting ready for the day. It was full of gray hair. FULL of gray hair. And in that moment, I “saw” my mom. Of course when my eyes lifted to look in the mirror, there she was again.
The day was Sunday. As we were in church right before the service was to begin, a young woman and her very young daughter walked down the aisle next to where we were seated. She took a seat in the pew in front of us and to the left a bit. It was the front row of our section in the very large church we attend. No one else was sitting near them, giving us a close up view of the two of them.Continue reading “A moment in time”
I grew up in a really small town in northern Kansas. Minneapolis. Not THE Minneapolis. No, when saying where we’re from, I’m certain every former and current resident always adds the important qualifying word: KANSAS.Continue reading “Dreamy Hardware Stores, Dreamy Cute Guy, Dreamy Ice Cream”
Merry Christmas to you in 2021. This is a story that many in my life have heard, and I’d like to share it with those of my blogger friends who haven’t read it yet.
One Christmas changed everything. Continue reading “The year that changed Christmas forever”
Do you like to wait? When we go to restaurants and see more than 10 people in line generally we turn right back around and leave. That’s how much we like to wait. Once in south Wichita I was stuck in my car waiting on a train, and it turned into a 45 minute wait. Then I learned this was the norm for that particular area! I just can’t think of anything I really enjoy waiting for. Not food, not trains, not telephone calls on hold. I could go on and on.
But some of the very best things in life require waiting. Continue reading “While you wait on the Doorkeeper”
Against my better judgment I’m fixing to tell you a camping story. With details I’d prefer not to share. Go ahead and read, but I may need you to sign a waiver first promising you won’t share info. Reality check, Simply B, that can’t happen. They’re going to read it anyway. Well, okay, here goes.
Every single year the hubby and I take at least one camping trip to Colorado. Every year we are joined by at least one of our daughters and her family, often there are three families involved. This year our trip included seven (7!!) families from my branch of the family tree. For a full week in the mountains.
** Spoiler alert** we all love each other. No dysfunctional family drama involved. That’s not the forbidden info.Continue reading “The Morels of Campgrounds”
Again, I have been given the opportunity to reminisce about my mother. Several days ago I had cataract surgery. Soon I will have cataract surgery on my other eye. Just a short appointment, quick recovery, and voila, good eyesight. Maybe even no prescription eye glasses needed once my other eye is done. Just that simple.
Mom’s eyes developed cataracts at a pretty young age. I was ten when she had surgery, which would have made her 50 years old. 1965 was the year. This surgery wasn’t simple and my mom wasn’t particularly enthused about the whole process.Continue reading “The Eyes Have It”
Did you know there is a national park in south central Oklahoma? Well there is! Chickasaw National Recreation Area.
We decided to take a little four day camping trip to this park, sight unseen, no idea what to expect. Sense of adventure kicked in while googling Chickasaw National Recreation Area. Our trip was delayed one year because our initial reservation was in March of 2020. Need I say more? ‘Rona ruined that plan.
Fast forward to 2021 and life is kind of good-ish again. Things are opening up, so we rebooked some campsites and hit the road with my sister and brother-in-law.Continue reading “Traveling south; Gene, Blake, and Olive Ann”
1963. If you were alive and above the age of 4 or so in 1963 you undoubtedly recall the day in November.
In February of last year we visited the 6th Floor Museum in Dallas. Dallas is huge, 7 million people live in the metro area. There are many buildings with six floors. But only one building houses the location where a gunman shot and killed President John Kennedy from a window on the sixth floor.
While walking through the museum and listening to the audio headphones tell the story I was taken back to that day in November. My 3rd grade classroom in Minneapolis Grade School. We listened to the news over the loudspeaker while our teacher, Mrs. Warren, wept. The only sound was the voice on the speaker and the weeping of our teacher. While a room full of eight year olds tried to process what was happening.Continue reading “Significance”
Are you a hugger? I wasn’t as a child. It wasn’t our family’s “thing”. That’s okay, I suppose. Pretty sure all you non-huggers are tolerating the COVID-19 restriction policies better than us huggers. Though I’ve grown into being a hugger (with a few limits), during these pandemic days I truly treasure all the human interaction I can get. Smiles (that you can actually see on an unmasked face), hugs, elbow bumps, conversation. Anything, I tell ya. Growl at me even.Continue reading “Embracing embraces. And the number 28.”
If you’ve read many of my blog posts you know that I was one of those surprise package bonuses for my folks. They were in their forties when I was born and my three sisters were all teenagers.
Life is just weird for us surprise packages. A good weird, a difficult weird, hard to explain.Continue reading “Wait for it”
Fifteen years ago I became a grandmother.
About eleven years ago, I bought my first ever Lego set for the boy who made me a grandma.
About eleven years and one minute ago, I became just a little obsessed with the delightfulness of Legos. So did said grandboy. We spent many hours building one thing after another, as the coins rapidly left our bank account.Continue reading “Let go of my Legos”
(Originally posted back in 2017….needed the recipe contained in this so I republished it. )
It’s been a week of education for Simply B in the fine art of using Ebay to purchase stuff. I’m a relative newby, just mainly buying stuff outright and not bidding on it. But this week I decided to bid on Castillian plates to add to the 2 that were given to me from my mom’s kitchen. And I learned a vital lesson. Once you place a bid on an Ebay item, you may well win that bid. And once you win that bid….well….you pay for the item and it’s yours. It’s a contract of sorts. I guess I thought I’d win the bid then be able to decide if I really wanted them. So far I have 10 Castillian plates. There may be more on the way, who knows. I kind of got carried away once the bidding started. Wow. No biggie. I guess. Haven’t checked our bank account balance. Perhaps I should. 😅 Continue reading “Ebay lessons and Cabbage.”
Small town America loves their school activities. That was certainly the case in my very small hometown high school during the 60’s and 70’s. Friday night football and Tues/Friday basketball would bring every loyal citizen who could still breathe and walk out to watch “their kids” play.
And for students, even if you weren’t part of the team, you were still part of the team. Some were in marching band. Some were cheerleaders. Some took turns working the concession stands. Some dressed up as the Lion Mascot. And the rest of us? Well we were part of the team too. Thanks to Pep Club.Continue reading “Pep And Petrol”
Wedding bells in 1935. For my parents. Well, not really any bells. Or white dress, or flowers, or wedding party, or church. Two people who loved each other, in front of a judge.
Percival and Augusta**. Long ago they lived across the street from my family in a small super-modest old home with peeling paint and many many many cats. And one little dog. There was a front porch. There was a back porch. There’s no trace left of where Percival and Augusta spent their sad life. But my mind will never lose the image of that home and the couple who lived there. Continue reading “The rest of the story….”
I was the last chance.
My folks were the parents of three teenage daughters when, out of the blue (or pink?) I came along. Another stinking girl. I have mental pictures of my dad, age 47, going from the hope of hearing “it’s a boy!!” to “oh, well”.
I was the last chance for him to have a boy to hang out with and enjoy time together. A son, a kindred spirit, a little Benton. He had three teenage girls. Just wrap your brain around that fact for one moment. At least once a month you KNOW my dad wished he had sons.Continue reading “Through”
My collection of numbers has become pretty large. Too many birthdays has added a ton of numbers to my age. And I seem to have an uncanny ability to add numbers to my weight. Though it’s tempting to blame COVID19 and the whole stay-at-home scene on the weight dealio, that would be a lie.
All these numbers have resulted in gravitational effects and odd changes to my already unfortunate configuration of body parts.Continue reading “Rising numbers. Rrrrrrip.”
My breath was taken away and tears came to my eyes. Not gonna lie, they even rolled down my cheeks.
A friend of mine shared a photo with me. She’d found it in an old yearbook of her mom’s.
Me. Age fifteen. The one school picture that never made it to a frame on the top of the piano with the other pictures of me and my sisters. I had totally forgotten about this particular photograph. I doubt there are prints of it anywhere, except of course the old yearbook.Continue reading “Dear Younger Me”