Let me just preface this post with this statement: I love animals. Yes, I do. Now just plant that fact in your brain while you read the rest of this.
Our oldest daughter went off to college many years ago at Kansas State University and began dorm life. Our youngest daughter was four years younger, just a high school sophomore at the time.
Continue reading “Bunny, Bird, and Boo”
Got some time on my hands. You too? I refuse to use the C word or the P word though. If you’re reading this in say, 2030, and you have no clue what C and P words are, then you indeed are most fortunate. Be deeply thankful. And just go ahead and search for “historic events in the year 2020” if curiosity has the best of ya.
So while roaming about the house during the past week or so, organizing, cleaning, avoiding stir craziness, I came across a few items with stories to tell.
Continue reading “Mixed values; unexpected ho-hums”
If you’re my age, and if you’re a girl (well, OLD girl), you probably once loved listening to the smooth voice of Karen Carpenter. The Carpenters. One of their most popular songs was Rainy Days and Mondays. “Talking to myself and feeling old” “Sometimes I’d like to quit, nothing ever seems to fit”. Such upbeat lyrics. NOT. Sadly, the line about “nothing ever seems to fit, like to quit” ? Karen died from anorexia at a young age.
I talk to myself and you probably do, too. Please tell me you do. 🙂
Continue reading “Talking to myself and feeling (fill in the blank)”
“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone.” That’s one line from an old song written in 1970. And like a lot of songs, it’s the only line I remember.
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This one line brings one person in particular to my mind. My mother.
On Christmas in the year 1970 my dad had just returned home from a one week stay at the hospital following his diagnosis of leukemia. He was dismissed Christmas Eve. Christmas morning was not the typical Christmas, as you might imagine. Not a lot of jolly old St Nicholas. But we were genuinely glad to be together. Just the four of us, Mom and Dad, Sharon and myself. We didn’t know what the future held but we sure loved having Daddy there with us on that day.
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Recently I read a story that pulled the curtains back from a window into the life of a mom and her difficulties with her young son. His behavior is so poor that kids avoid him. Classmates say their parents forbid them from playing with him anymore. He comes home from school and says he was told he is “bad.” He has been removed from that kindergarten now. His mom and dad are struggling to help him.
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South of Manhattan Kansas on Manhattan Ave there is a bridge over Wildcat Creek. Cross the bridge and you have arrived on what is commonly referred to as Hunter’s Island. Wildcat Creek and the Kansas river border this land. Some of the most fertile ground around can be found on Hunter’s Island. The hubby tells me it’s only a true island when it is surrounded by flooding. Which happens a lot.
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How well I recall the day I learned my family was poor. The news didn’t come from my parents. I often heard them having lively conversations about finances early in the morning while they were eating breakfast. While I was exercising my sloth-like tendency to sleep late. I heard them, but it was never serious enough to fully awaken me.
No, reality hit one day in the third floor library of the junior high building in my hometown. Probably my eighth grade year, during study hall. Continue reading “The beauty of enough”
Since Mom’s death in 1993 I’ve been the family member most involved in my developmentally disabled/intellectually challenged oldest sister’s care. Sharon has been so blessed with wonderful care where she lives in a group home. (THANK YOU GOD!!!!).
Today I participated in a phone conference call to analyze and evaluate the care she is receiving. My input was limited and really I didn’t need to say much. They asked Sharon questions and she answered. And I listened to it all. Continue reading “Unpredictable, innocent humor….oh, my sister”
One of my favorite Christmas gifts ever was from my sister Lois. I was eight or nine years old, she was 16 years older than me and, in my little girl eyes, quite wealthy. She was a Medical Technologist and worked in a hospital laboratory in a big old hospital. 😜💲💲💲 What was this magnificent gift, you ask? A Scrabble board game. I was ecstatic. Seriously!!
Continue reading “One Word. Two Words. Three Words.”
The year was 2006, the month was March. I’d been longing to be a grandma for oh so long. Prayers were prayed, decisions were made to adopt, and we traveled to Guatemala with our daughter and son-in-love and Grandma Cindy to meet the baby who would be our very first grandchild.
We met him, we held him, we watched him react with his new mommy and daddy. And we fell in love. My grandma heart was fully activated. Continue reading “Lullaby voice. Just see what happens.”
Every now and then I’ll be doing something and a long-forgotten memory floods my mind. You, too? Often, it’s something I’d just as well leave forgotten. You, too?
But sometimes, a memory takes me back to an experience that was fun and so worth remembering. A memory that wraps around me like a warm hug. Such a good feeling. Continue reading “The Man.”
Have you ever found yourself laughing in a totally inappropriate setting for laughter to occur? Like loud laughter with potential snorting? And nothing you try can stop your laughter. With tears streaming. You might manage to stop but then right away have a trigger that starts it up all over again. The struggle is real. Continue reading “Unfortunate LOL. And 911 Humor.”
Once upon a time in the land of my childhood, there was an alley running between our property and the neighbor’s property. You don’t see too many alleys anymore, especially in big cities, but in our small town they were a significant part of life. Kids could congregate there, learn to ride bikes without traffic, play with their friends. And trash was collected in large steel drums generally placed near the alleyway. Periodically you could light a match and revel in the pleasure of watching your trash burn.
Not gonna lie, I miss burning the trash. Continue reading “A Father’s love”
A few months ago I was in my mom-in-law’s house with her. My eye caught sight of a vase I’d not seen before and I said, “Wow, that is gorgeous. I love it!”. To which she immediately and without hesitation emphatically said, “Take it. It’s yours. I do not need all this stuff.” And she waved her hands around the room.
So, I took it home. Continue reading “The fluff of stuff. And the power of a photograph.”
Thanksgiving. Time to make the list. The “what I’m thankful for” list.
You know the drill. Most lists have the same items on them year after year no matter who is writing the list. “My family. My friends. Food. Shelter…”
Gratitude is a good habit to practice. One time several years ago I sat down and quickly wrote 100 things I was thankful for. All the wonderful good things in my life I could think of. It was good medicine for my attitude and kept me happy for, oh, maybe 10-20 hours. Continue reading “The worst everything.”
Sixty three years ago on this day, my 15 year old sister loaded up my pregnant mom and my two other sisters in our old car and drove to the hospital 25 miles from home. My sister’s skills included driving a tractor and she could drive a car, too. Dad was working, driving a road maintainer for the county. Probably far out in the country on a dirt road and there weren’t cell phones in that day. He was probably clueless that the whole hospital thing was happening. I don’t think I was quite due to be born yet. The first and last time I was early for anything. Continue reading “Young. And Old. And Future.”
As I’ve mentioned countless times, we are campers. Outdoorsy folks. With limits, of course. You will never see us riding a mountain bike up a 20% grade through thick forest and jumping the bikes over large boulders. Or rappelling up a vertical slab of rock above a river of whitewater below. We like to walk around on easy paths and occasionally flex our muscles in order to hoist up our smart phones and take a picture of some beautiful scene. Yeah, that’s our style of “outdoorsy”. Continue reading “Recreational Vehicle? Depends on your definition of "recreation".”
How many different houses did you live in as a child? I lived in one. Only one. For all 18 years of my childhood. That’s probably pretty rare for the average person.
|this picture was drawn by a friend of mine from a photograph.
Continue reading “Home”
Music. It’s really everywhere around us. Radio. You tube. Movies aren’t movies unless there is a soundtrack. TV advertisements couldn’t exist without a catchy tune. Elevators, subway stations, restaurants….. we are surrounded with song. Continue reading “To Hear Him Sing”