Back to School- a Time to Make New Friends

I used to relish the idea of back-to-school. Keep in mind I say “used to”. This post will start out as a “woe is me” sob story until I get to the part about my new buddies, Yuk and Jasper.

Hankies ready?

When I was a young thing (Okay I know that might be hard to imagine .. especially by grandchildren who are still devastated that I was born so long ago there were no video games in existence, and the closest thing available to interacting with the television was a show called Winky –Dink where you used a plastic screen stuck on the tv and a ‘magic crayon’ to rescue Winky . You may view the reality of this program at : http://www.tvparty.com/requested2.html )

But I digress.. I was referring to my youth when “back to school” meant seeing old friends again as well opportunities to learn new things. I admit I was what might be considered a geek in those days because I did love learning and homework and all that stuff. In fact, aside from the occasional note passing, I was a very attentive student…That’s safe to say now that most of my teachers have graduated to another level of existence.

By the time I had back-to-schoolers of my own, I came to love the end of summer not so much because it meant the kids were soon to be supervised by someone else, (okay, maybe partially) but because it meant not hearing the words, “I’m bored”, 300 times a day. Also, to some degree, the house would more easily kept clean. Plus, I admit I love the smell of new pencils and notebook paper.. the crazy shopping for supplies .. it’s almost as much fun as Christmas shopping (okay .. this can’t be the first time you’ve noticed I’m a bit peculiar)

SIDEBAR: Hopefully my children don’t go into shock when they read this part about the house cleaning.. I am certain they are still under the delusion that their back-breaking, never-ending list of chores are what gave our home any semblance of order. After all, in the immortal words of our youngest: “People only have children because it’s illegal to own slaves!” and… as any of the four would tell you, Ex-man and I worked our little slaves relentlessly!

….Having pulled my tongue out of my cheek I shall continue:

Back-to-school now is a melancholy time for me. Whenever I notice students walking to and from school, I realize once again that this afternoon there will be no one coming through the door to ask, “ How was school today?" and, "What did you learn?" Never mind that the answer was almost always, “Fine.” Or, “Nothing new.”.. It’s the idea that no one is coming through that door to mumble the reply! There will be no afterschool snacks to share , no social dilemma’s to hear about, no new heat-throbs to learn of, and no homework with which to offer help.

To add to the sorrow, nine of the 12 ½ grandchildren and two of the original four are headed back-to-school themselves - - -which means less time to talk to Grammie on the phone, or play games on the computer via instant message ….or web cam....and absolutely no visits from anyone until we get to Christmas.

Add to this the undeniable coincidence that, in the fall, Ex-man’s meetings seem to multiply. More often than not, breakfast, lunch and sometimes supper will find our dining table set for one for the next few months. HO-HUM! While I am a hermit at heart, I do find loneliness an issue from time to time.. (I warned you to have your to have your hankies at the ready! )

Enter YUK and JASPER, two marvelous new buddies who called my name from their confined shelves inside the Wandering Daisy.. a quaint, tiny shop in Breckenridge, Friday last. (That’s their photo at the top of the blog! Right to left: Yuk, then Jasper) I spotted them languishing just inside the Daisy’s window at about 10 in the morning as I strolled along the main street of one of very favorite ski resort towns.

Jasper spoke up first – “Psst! Hey lady.. yeah you! Take me home with ya, okay?”

While I’m not usually one to pick up strangers, I had to admit Jasper’s smiling face was more than intriguing. I sensed at once I’d found a new friend; one that would cheerfully greet me first thing in the morning (after Ella licks me awake) and merrily hold a fresh cup of herb tea for me while I get my brain warmed up to the morning writing routine.

Alas, there was one small problem in that The Wandering Daisy didn’t open until 11 o’clock. SO!, after some moments of realizing that no other shops of interest were tucked away in this little ‘off street' area, I meandered on over to a marvelous little restaurant the name of which I believe was the Cool River. Don’t quote me on that one.. but it’s a little breakfast and lunch spot frequented by many of the locals. It was a warm morning so I settled myself at a little table in the riverside garden outside the Cool River after ordering a Dangerously Red smoothie and snatching up some fresh baked banana bread at the last minute. I should mention here that the DR smoothie was dangerous only to the point that I seemed to have something wrong with my ‘sipper’ that morning and the yummy raspberry/strawberry and yogurt blend kept dribbling down my chin. Ex-man will NOT be surprised to hear this.

While drinking and munching I pulled pen and paper out of my purse and proceeded to write two pages of silliness to a special friend with whom I have recently been reunited. She is a well-known quilter who has, with her family, built an incredible fiber arts business home-based on the Western Slopes of Colorado.. http://www.phillipsfiberart.com/ I hope she won’t be offended when she learns that Jasper brought her to mind for a dozen reasons - - - none of which has to do with facial resemblance, but one of which is the early morning and late night gab sessions she and I had while raising our off-spring and otherwise deciding what we wanted to be when we grew up. Those were good times… comforting times even… and packed with more creative brainstorming than any two people have ever had. Jasper just has that smile of inspiration… the look in his eyes that together we’d come up with brilliant story lines and the strength to break any writer’s block. I knew by the time I popped the last piece of banana bread in my mouth I’d return for him.

Sure enough, the Wandering Daisy was open. ..and Jasper sat patiently waiting. As I reached to claim him, he gave a nod to a little green fellow sitting on the opposite end of the shelf towards the back. It was Yuk, turned a bit to the side.. evidently scrutinizing a pig-shaped teapot that resided in the front window. I immediately recognized the attitude. I’ve had that attitude many a time myself. So right away I knew Yuk had to come along home as well.

Yuk and Jasper are the whimsical creations of one Judie Bomberger, who also names her works of art.. in case you were wondering. http://www.judiebomberger.com/
What I love about Judie.... besides the fact that she provided me with two new writing buddies is that she is 65…. And she is so doing what she loves.. ... you can see it in her work.

So, I am greeted by Yuk or Jasper every morning now.. (the kind of morning I’m having determines whose mug I stare into….) But either way.. whether the day starts out with an impromptu run to the market, Ella barking at ghosts under the bed, or a phone call at 6:45 am from an exterminator who has no intention of showing up, I’ve got my ‘peeps’ to talk me through the rush, the thrills and the blocks of the writing life.. They faithfully remind me that Judie and Cheryl are out there successfully doing what they love.. so .. why not me too!?

( Disclaimer… this article in no way is to imply that my friend , Cheryl, of Phillips Fiber Arts, is in her 60’s.. I’m pretty sure I have about a decade’s jump-start on her) and I hope her internet is up and going soon so she can check in with me again.)

Pot Luck at the Office

Don’t cha love those mornings when you wake up to phrases like:
” Mommy, I’m suppose to have 36 cookies for the class party today”.
Or
“Mom, I wrote the outline to my term paper on the back of your grocery list. I can’t find it anywhere and it’s due 4th period.”
Or sometimes it’s: “You mean you didn’t get my band uniform dry cleaned? We’re marching at half time this afternoon!”

My morning began with, ”You remembered it’s the office pot luck today didn't you?” Me? Remember? Am I not over 60? Was I ever told what he signed up to take? Have I not been entertaining Mickey Mouse and his relatives for the past 5 days? Me? Remember? HA!

“What are you signed up for?”
“I’ll just take a bag of rolls or store bought cookies!”
What are you signed up for?”
“I haven’t looked at the list lately.”
“What are you signed up for?”
“How about I call you when I get to work and let you know?”

This has happened a few times so I know the drill: I get dressed, sans the morning shower I had relished, hair flying this way and that, minimum makeup (just enough not to scare myself when I look in the rear view mirror) jump in the car and head to a market and await his phone call on my cell with news of what is ‘not’ on the list….. for I know all too well that he hasn’t signed up for anything.

( Now at this point some of you may be asking why a person who has previously been assigned food storage and preparedness would not have a plethora of items handy from which to make almost anything in Betty Crocker’s cook book. A) I don’t have Betty’s book and, B) see the post that refers to entertaining Mickey and his friends.. I’m not setting foot in my basement for at least 24 hours.. (the basement being where the food storage resides.. along with any surviving members of the squeaky party attendees).

45 minutes goes by.. It takes the breadwinner 15 minutes tops to get to his office.. so I make a phone call.
“Stuck in traffic?” I ask pleasantly when I hear “ oh , umm yeah..” on the answering end.
“No, actually I’m uh…”
“Giving PCR to and accident victim you came upon?”
“Not exactly, I was…”
“Helping put out the fire at your office building?...”
“Mmmm, no. Things are fine here, I just had to…”
“Sew your arms back on before you could make a phone call?”
“Want to hear the list?”
“Can’t wait!”

The list turns out to be almost all salads. There goes my 7 layer Salad idea. “Are there still 5 men on your staff”? ( the other 12 being women thus the abundance of salads).
“Yep”.

This time I’m prepared. As I mentioned, this has happened a time or two and I’ve learned to grab a cook book as I go out the door. I assure the executive the other end that everything is under control and zip into the market where I eventually depart with what is needed to make Cranberry Barbecue Meatballs. Such a surprisingly simple and yummy dish/appetizer/ pot luck recipe I just had to share it. .. plus I discovered a clearance on cranberry sauce at the Albertson’s between College and Mason I figured why not! (For one thing, I was relieved to even find cranberry sauce this time of year. Shockingly it’s $1.79-$.199 a can.. EXCEPT the Albertson brand that is being cleared out right now at 69 cents a can! Yahoo…. Top shelf, canned fruit section.

Here’s the easy, breezy recipe: right form the pages of Better Homes and Garden “New” Cookbook, which was recently on sale at Sam’s for just over 10 buckeroos!
Cranberry Barbecue Meatballs
Prep time: 15 minutes Cook time: 10 minutes (allow 40 minutes cook time for meat balls if they are frozen or use microwave if you’re in a hurry…. like I was by the time I got home!)
Makes 64 meatballs

2- 16 ounces pkgs frozen cooked meatballs, thawed
1 16 ounce can cranberry sauce
1 cup barbecue sauce ( any flavor )
In a large saucepan combined thawed meatballs, cranberry sauce and barbecue sauce. Heat to just boiling; reduce heat. Simmer uncovered for 10 to 15 minutes or until heated through, stirring mixture occasionally.

Pour prepared mixture into the favorite soup pot your husband bought for you in Old Town, San Diego and beg him not to let it get broken. Kiss him good bye and tell him to have a wonderful office pot luck. Collapse in a chair and eat the four meat balls you snuck out for yourself.

Mice 101

It’s Back to School time.. and in the spirit of preparedness I want to quickly share with you what I have learned during an impromptu course recently taken :
Entertaining Mice 101
How to host a mouse party:
1) Cut down and otherwise remove a third of all the plants and shrubbery in your yard. This displaces the mice from their homes and allows them to consider your home as a place to apply for citizenship.
2) Forget about the two bags of brown sugar, the package of marshmallows, and pound of rice that you failed to put in more secure containers .. Set cases of salsa and jam in front of these items so you don’t notice them for several months.
3) Go on vacation for 10 days.
How to prevent a mouse party:
1) Write 100 times: Disturbing mouse habitats can be harmful to your food storage.
2) Can or bottle all food storage items ASAP. Do not forget about items purchased in plastic bags or put off storing them properly.
3) Don’t count on plastic lids, plastic storage bins or Mylar bags to spare you from a mouse party. We had sugar in a gallon glass jar with a hard plastic lid.. which the mice ate through. Glass jar good,…. plastic lid, bad!
4) Once you reach a tally of 20 mice you might want to call an exterminator.. Bigger and Better mouse traps do exist.!!!!…. Ours answered all our mouse questions, walked around the entire inside and outside of the house pointing out entry points and told us exactly what to do to prevent more parties.
5) One of the easiest places for mice to get in is where you siding meets the foundation of your home. Cover these opening with furring strips and caulk the seams. We’re stuffing steel wool in the openings before we do that. Air conditioning vents and where the garage meets your house are two other popular entrance sights. Our exterminator recommended furring and caulk around the floor of the garage once again.
What to do while you wait for exterminators to show up.
We’re told this is a busy time of year for exterminators. Evidently skunks, hornets, mice and other such pests celebrate the end of summer with massive invasions. Whatever the reason, (and let me tell you we heard some doozies of excuses) the first two exterminators we contacted literally stood us up!!!! As in “no show, no contact” until hours after the appointments.. etc. Trust me…. a 48 hour delay in assistance when Mickey and his friends are doing the Limbo and have an open karaoke mike set up in your basement can be traumatic. That’s the word our third exterminator used.. “traumatic”.. when he promptly returned our call and came out at the end of his long work day. (Happy to give references upon request here) SO:
1) Call more than one exterminator when you first realize you have a problem
2) Find out if your dog is a mouser.. Happily, ours is.. much to our delight and sometimes to our terror
3) If you don’t have a cat, beg, steal or borrow a neighbor’s
4) Move everything you can in the infested area away from the foundation or any suspected areas where mice could be entering.. ( you’ll know they’re entering by tell tale signs of little black dots!)
5) Always wear shoes. (another story for another day)

The Party's Over ... we are on our way!!!!

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. It may be a while longer before I post again. But just so this blog doesn’t go totally South .. I am going to chat a bit today about the joy of going through a box of old photos.. Did I say box.. make that boxes.. I have a plethora. I have such good intentions for all these snapshots of past lives and past events.. I have a kabillion dollars in scrapbook and memory book supplies to show that I am sincere in my intentions!

It grieves my soul that there is a saying that reminds us of what good intentions can lead to.. or should I say “where” they lead? Still, I have hope! And there is that other saying about faith, hope, and charity… So, maybe I may still stand a chance of ending up in a good place. But I digress… (I do that a lot, I know. Hopefully there isn’t yet another saying about digression.. …but if there is.. I hope you’ll let me know. Wow look at all that hope … That’s got to offset some of all my misdirected intentions…

But back to the photos and all those boxes… Part of the fun is when you come across a photo and decide it needs editing…. Someday I’ll advance to REAL photo editing like the big girls do with Photoshop.. but for now, I just play around with simple little programs that let me pretend I know what I’m doing.. In cropping some forgotten picutres over the past few days I was able to view facial expression that before were less noticed.

Today I am posting one of my favorites. I call it: “The Party’s Over". (I wonder if I can find Journey’s song with those lyrics to add to my playlist?.. ) The occasion is our now 10 year old granddaughter’s first birthday. (I hereby give her the code name of Cheerleader) In the photo we have Cheerleader's now 12 year old brother who was 3 at the time. (I’ve decided to call him MagicChef). The little fella sitting next to Magic Chef is his cousin and OG’s son, “26”, who is about 17 months old here. ( now 10 years old).

The birthday party is at an end.. all the presents have been opened.. the cake and ice cream has been served and enjoyed....and family is starting to head home… Here they sit.. MagicChef and ‘26’, forlorn and worn out. Not even the wand in MagicChef’s hand can get the party going again.

Sadness!

If you were a fly on the wall,. what do you think they would be saying to each other? This is my desperate attempt to get some comments going here folks.. Come on.. put your thinking caps on and leave some comments! I’ll treat the author of the best dialog to Cold Stone’s ...or the icecream emporium of your choice the next time we get together.. And let’s face it.. is there anyone reading this who won’t, in all likelihood, see me in this summer.? If so, and you are the winner, I’ll send you a Cold Stone gift certificate for $5! It’s not the winning lottery ticket but hey - - - we gotta start somewhere!

All submissions must be made by midnight MST July 10,2008….Code Red, ‘26’ and K-girl will be here and help choose two finalist. The finalists’ submissions will then be sent to MagicChef who will determine the winner. The runner up will receive something.. I’m just not sure what yet….but it’ll be good!

Come on!!!!! .. you can do it!!!

.. I"ll be waiting.. ( and hoping!)

Cheaper by the Dozen

.. When our daughter-in-law called last October to tell us the new grandchild score board would read Boys 9, Girls 3 ( previously 8 to 3) she added that she thought maybe we’d be excited to remember that things are cheaper by the dozen. Ya know, I never did quite understand how that applies to anything besides donuts.. BUT I also always figured it doesn’t matter when it comes to grandchildren… because they are simply priceless.

We are so tickled and thrilled… and all those other happy, over-joyed words, ....with the addition of each one. And the wonder of it all is that the excitement never changes.. from #1 to where ever the tally takes us…. This is even true when they are adopted into the clan, as three of ours were.. all in one fell swoop!

And so, today, #12 grandchild, aka #9 grandson, officially joined the family. He weighed in , in the tradition of his father … (just 2 ounces shy of dad’s birth weight), at 8 lbs 11 ounces…. 20 ¾ inches long.. We figure he could give his dad a run for his money on height in about 16 years too!

Ex-man has always kidded our youngest daughter-in-law about her size, never forgetting to suggest she shop for her wardrobe in the children’s department if we are all out shopping together. .. She is a little gal for sure!.. so it was no small task she set for herself in making sure #12 arrived safe and healthy…. How do you say thank-you for all that?

I love it that Ex-man always takes time to reflect on such things whenever one of our ‘girls’ adds a new little person to the clan… He was in another City this morning when the news arrived.. and stepped outside his meeting to take my phone call. I loved the excitement I heard in his voice. It’s part of the joy in being a grandparent, to share that news with your spouse. We didn’t really get to sit and talk about the new little man and his parents until this evening when Ex-man got back into town.. There’s such a unique , “easy, peaceful” joy in that sharing as well.. and part of it for me is that Ex-man ALWAYS talks about how it is no small thing to carry a child and then give birth.. He sees it as genuine bravery and no small miracle… I hope all four of our girls know how much he appreciates the whole process each and every time.

And I love the comment Auntie Elena made when she realized today’s date.. She said that the birth of her new nephew insured that from now on Friday the 13th would always be a good luck day for our family!

Auntie OG expressed her happiness with all the news by wishing he wasn’t going to be almost another month older before she could cuddle him…. She recognized the occasion on her blog.. which I thought was perfect.

Uncle Hootis was planning a Harley visit until he remembered this is Father’s Day week-end. (He has five off-spring honoring that status at his house.. not something one should skip out on!)

I’ve had the fun of communicating with Uncles Riotimus and ITGuy, and Auntie Hootis (still no code name for either daughter in law) as well… that’s always a treat for me.. We may live miles and miles apart, but on days like today, I count it as one of my best to have not only be blessed with the birth of a healthy grandson, and to hear his mom is doing well, but to have heard from all our other children as well… ( I can't even write about talking to the new dad without my eyes getting a bit moist.. Sentiment just gets sloppoer the older one gets I suppose.)

Cheaper By The Dozen??? I don’t know about that… but then how do you put a price tag on a perfect day? ..... I guess you just tag on the thought that in December it'll be a bakers dozen and smile a little bigger!

For My Dad

This blog is certainly suffering from neglect. I have a list of excuses that would make your head swim but why take up your time and mine with a list none of us are going to believe.. and even if we believe it, who really cares? I’d try to care if only I had the time.. But time is marching to a quicker beat every day.. and I’m out of shape, so…….

I’m just going to jump right back in here with a tribute to my Father since Father’s Day is about to smile on us. I wrote this as the intro to a little grocery deals newsletter I send out to gals in my church every Wednesday. ( I won’t explain the reason behind that here but if you want to know more, email me)

Obviously the deals wont’ apply to everyone so I will leave them out.. but the rest of the newsletter pays tribute to the man who made sure I’m even around to write anything at all… the man who found me under that rock and agreed to take me home, eventually, (see In The Beginning, my first post, and believe whom you will)… the man who is still my first and always hero… My Dad. Here goes:

Father’s Day approaches, and in honor to my own “Dear Ol’ Dad”, as he likes to be called… (he signs all his cards and letters ”D.O.D.”) I have chosen certain of the following grocery specials to share with you this week.

First of all I need to point out that, according to my father, Jimmy Dean Sausage is the best there is for making that Southern breakfast treat, Sausage Gravy. Therefore, I point out to you that JD’s sausage is on sale this week , 2 for $5 at King Soopers in case you feel your gravy needs improving!

Next, I would like to direct your attention to the Van Camp Pork ‘n Beans and Farmland Bacon , both on sale at Albertsons. As the first born child of a struggling young couple I recall vividly my dad’s idea of a tasty meal on a particular afternoon when I was left at home alone with him. Dad had the flu or a bad cold.. some ailment that had him resting peaceful in his rocker while his 3 year old daughter ran amuck in the house. In an effort to corral me, he suggested we play hide and seek. I was the hider, he the seeker.. but he was going to stay seated in his chair and just call out the places to where he thought I had stolen myself away.

Clever child, I scooted behind his rocker and sequestered myself for what I was sure would be a lengthy repose. Surely my father would never spot me as I sat quietly between the back of his chair and the wall.

“Are you under the bed?”
“No, sir!” (keep in mind this was in the 50’s, in the South, and children always responded with sir and mam)
“Are you behind the door?”
“No, sir!”
“Are you behind my chair?”
Giggle, giggle. “No, sir!”
A lengthy pause. Are you SURE you’re not behind my chair?”
More giggling. “No, sir!”
“Ya know, that ol’ devil comes and gets little girls that lie to their daddy’s don’tcha?”
Silence
“He comes and takes them away and he might never bring ‘em back!”

Well, as I recall we both got more than we bargained for.. My dishonesty sent me into a horrific crying ‘spell’ and Dad was left to think of something to comfort his distraught child. This is where the beans and bacon come in. Dad’s delicacy for lunch ( which would take my mind of my impending doom) was something he called “pigs in a blanket” I don’t think I’ve ever seen them made this way anywhere else…. And I’m not so sure they are the healthiest treat to offer a distressed child. But I’ll put the recipe at the end of the newsletter just in case you need to it calm anyone.

My Dad is the best there is. He is known for his compassion, patience and spiritual strengths,…and his uncanny sense of humor. I love him very much. That’s why, as tempting as it is, I’m not going to share my parents' phone number with you ..But I would if I could just so you could get your chuckles for the day listening to his answering machine. He is often down at the Senior Center playing dominoes so your chances would be good. But sense I am already listed after my two siblings and the dog in The Will, (I should have fessed up to being behind that chair) I’m just going to put the message in writing: ( as beset as I can recall it)

“Howdy! You’ve reached ***-****. You haven’t won any money by callin’ this number, and we’re not home. But if you need to tell me somethin’ you think I’m dyin’ to hear, go ahead ‘n strap it on me. I’ll call ya back if I think it’s worth discussin’ “

I do love ya , Dad!.. and Happy Father’s day to all the great ones like you out there.

And now - -

The Infamous Pigs in a Blanket Recipe:
(best appreciated during times of poverty in one’s life; or perhaps after having your wits scared out of you)

4 slices of white bread (the cheaper the better)
1 can of pork and beans
4 slices bacon
4 toothpicks

Lay the slices of bread out on a cookie sheet. Divide the can of beans evenly onto the slices of bread. Wrap the bread around the beans. Next, secure the rolled up bread by wrapping a slice of bacon around it. The bacon slice is held in place by a toothpick.
Space the ‘pig stuffed blankets’ approximately 2 inches apart on the cookie sheet and broil them on low in the oven until the bread is toasted. Serve to who ever is hungry enough to eat them. (Surprisingly, enough they don’t taste bad at all!)

You Can’t Tell the Players Without a Program

Ex-man continues to fret over his code name, fearing it suggests he is in some way my X.. you know.. as in x husband. I am here to assure everyone this is not the case. True I do have an X husband… but it’s not Ex-man. I suppose if I were to ever refer to my X-husband I would call him something like Lt. X since he was a Lt. on a sheriff’s department before he retired.

Meanwhile, the lengthy and world shattering revelations found in the key to my playlist need to be put on hold until I have given my readers a program by which they can tell who is who on this blog.

I shall now Ex-plain my Ex-cellent reasoning behind the Ex-emplary name I chose for Ex-man….Aren’t you Ex-cited?

Ex-man. who is my husband, is the Executive Director of one of the Rocky Mountain region’s MPOs.. An MPO is “a Municipal Planning Organization which, more closely defined “is a federally-designated association of local governments whose organization is responsible for the prioritization of federal transportation investments in their region”. (That’s a definition in Ex-man’s own words. Obviously.. his vocabulary beats mine, hands down)


I used to refer to him as the big E.D. but somehow that always made me think of that talking horse.. you know.. Mr. Ed. (Don’t tell me if you’re too young to know who that is!!!!.. Just trust me.. there was once a television program about a talking horse. Life was so much more simple back then) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLR4iZJLgc4

Of course, the horse-y name just wasn’t working,… yet…. I still wanted to incorporate his ‘prestigious’ title into his nickname on the blog. Rummaging through the grey cells of factoids stored regarding my significant other, I came upon his fascination with super heroes. A lesser known marvel character whose traits seem to fit my guy is, believe it or not, Xman, the test tube son of Cyclops and Jean Grey. I’m not deeply knowledgeable about such characters. Elena (whom I shall Ex-plain later) is the one who pointed out some qualities she felt Ex-man and Xman had in common. I figured that would flatter my husband and thus, he is referred to on these pages as “Exman”. ..( who is, of course my super hero regardless)

Now that I’ve mentioned Elena, let me go ahead and give you the four-one-one on her: Elena is my youngest daughter. She and her husband, Riotimus, chose their own names long ago. Riotimus is on his way to becoming a renown Ancient History professor who, among other things, is an expert on King Arthur. Riotimus actually was a king and mighty warrior who has been identified as a candidate for the historical King Arthur. Elena, on the other hand, is the name of a leading female character in a series of short stories Riotimus has written, some of which have won impressive awards.

We recently learned that Riotimus and Elena have cooked up Grandchild #13 for us! Life is good! They also have two sons, neither of which have been given code names for this blog. I tend to want to refer to the 4 year old as “toad hopper”, but have decided his parents might want to select something on their own. His 2 year old brother I’d call Snuggle Puppy.. but again I defer to his parents.

While we are at this end of the “posterity” line I will let you know that Little Brother is our youngest son. He is anything but little… 6 ft 1” .. if you don’t count his hair. He got his name from the signature he uses when he leaves comments on his sisters’ blogs.

Frankly I’m surprised he didn’t leave comments on this blog using the code name, “ Your favorite”! Having been teased by his three elder siblings about being spoiled most of his life, he finally decided he’d thrive on the implication. He unashamedly tells anyone who will listen that he is his mother’s favorite. We love and spoil him enough to let him live with his merry delusion. Truth be told, we would like to think all four of our children live with that delusion.. but I suspect it is more fun to tease LB than entertain such thoughts.

LB is married to the gal his grandfather told him not to “let getaway” in high school. We’re all happy he listened to his Grandad! I’m going to let her pick her code name as well! She certainly deserves to have that priviledge.. she’s about to present us with Grandson # 9 and Grandchild #12!

Heading up the line the other way we get to Occasional Genius. That would be our oldest daughter… which is not to imply she is old! In fact, OG will never age.. she has too much to do to bother with that. If you haven’t checked out her blog you need to take time to make the visit. It will become obvious right away why she’s called OG. I’m trying to remember a time in her life she wasn’t cooking something up in the way of amazing , if not totally surprising! http://occasionalgenius.com/

Our family loves her games…enough to travel to another State when invited to play. Rumor has it she’s working on a new one.. with an Egyptian theme.. or maybe it will be a deserted island theme.. I can’t wait!

OG is married to I.T. Guy. They met in college. He was dating one of her roomies. I’m not sure who worked their creativity on whom but we’re glad they ended up together. They have a family of four: Code Red:… ‘26’… K-girl and Caboose. You’ll notice thus far I have refrained from doing the typical grandmother thing…to ‘brag’ about the grandkids” .. Readers will not forever be spared my doting comments.. but for the sake of length on this posting I shall curb my naturally tendencies! .. and will give fair warning when I’m about to elaborate on the topic.

And now we come to Hootis. Eldest child… brilliant computer wiz, father of five. Hootis was given his nickname long ago by my brother.. the original toad hopper in my family. Aa soon as I remember what my little brother’s nickname was between the two of those guys I will be using it to refer to him.. Every blog needs stories about little brothers. ( I suppose that was an open invitation for Hootis, OG and Elena to submit theirs about Little Brother.. .. this could get interesting.)


Anyway Hootis took some time finding himself a spouse. Ah. …another family member without a code name at this writing. Back in his single days OG and I would tell him to stop looking for a sweet young thing and find a sensible woman with kids… our only grandchild at the time was Code Red. OG figured he needed cousins. And I was enjoying “grandmotherhood” so much, more sounded good to me. Enter our lovely Daughter in law #1 with three of the most precious, adorable, little boys. Now that they are ages 16, 15 and 12, I doubt they would like to be referred to as adorable and precious. Handsome.. indeed they are.. We feel as if they’ve always been ours.. Perhaps they will soon submit nicknames for the blog If not.. they are fair game!

Hootis and his gorgeous wife have added to the mix one of the rare granddaughters in the family – who is now about to turn 10 .. and who is also the image of her mom. Bringing up the rear is their own little caboose, a grandson that reminds me of the Gerald Mc Boing Boing cartoon character.. Smart as a whip and short on vocabulary - - - he certainly can communicate with his antics and facial expressions.. too cute!!!

Yep .. we’ve got the best grandkids anywhere. I can say that! This is MY blog!

So who have I written about that I’ve not explained? I figure eventually Little Brother’s mom-in-law will post and give herself a nickname.. She tells me she’s read this a time or two… We had another fun time together this week-end putting the finishing touches on the 12th grandchild’s scrapbook.. That’s the family tree page in the photo. I think one of our biggest adventures this time was taking Ella for a walk with Ex-man… What an adventure!.. That dog does NOT get the idea of ‘heel’ ..But it was fun watching LB’s mom-in-law (who is maybe all of 5ft 2” if that), take a turn with the leash and give the command.. I wish I’d had the camera then.. That would surely have found it’s way to the blog!

Another photo op missed was the fat lip LB’s mom-and-law got from a box of toothpaste samples falling on her face. Do we know how to have fun at this house or what? In parting this morning she assured me she would still come visit again in spite of it all… and I take it from her last words that if I could just find the right man in the area.. we’d see her a lot more often… You better believe I’m on the look out!

Oh yes.. today’s other photo is of.. you guessed it.. my hero! I captured this ‘rare’ photo of Ex-man just before he transformed into his super hero uniform. Superman has his phone both.. Ex-man has his recliner!

Pauses and intermissions

News such as this will undoubtedly sadden the masses, but I must take a few days off from expounding on the playlist which accompanies this blog in order to visit with a special friend over the week end.. .....who just so happens to be the other grandmother of the soon to be revealed grandson due June 6.

We have grandmotherly things to attend to...

....So to all my beloved fans.. the thousands of you who visit so faithfully daily and load my blog up with a plethora of comments .. and leave behind your own wit and wisdom for the sharing.. and who have asked and even begged for more .. I must say.. "not today". Be brave... keep your chins up.. shed not a tear... I shall return in due time.. (probably Monday.... but no promises) We famous writers must take time for ourselves now and then...sad though true....

PS.. Happy Mother's Day to all the women who made us who we are today... who saw to it that we got here on this crazy old planet .... and to the daughters, sisters, aunts, grandmothers and anybody else who nurtured us along the way. I think that probably includes some dads! That's me and my mom in the photo... Thanks MOM! I love ya a whole bunch!

The New (Awkward) Age

The New (Awkward) Age

Recently noticed on a bill board was the phrase,”60 is the new 40”!

Really? I’m 60.. so I know they can’t possible be talking about years.

60 years old to me is the new awkward age. I used to think 8 was that discomfited age, especially for girls. You still have a bit of baby fat and the loose tooth fairy has struck often enough that you look like you’ve been in a fight when you smile. Adding insult to injury. the new teeth, when they finally DO come in, often appear too big for your mouth.

At 60 the baby fat I lost after having four children has found me again….though I don’t remember leaving a forwarding address. I didn’t need to call on the tooth fairy to arrive at the fact that at 60, only seven of my teeth are originals.. And while the new ones fit and look great when I smile.. you should take care to look for cover when I sneeze.

To be truthful it’s not so much about the physical awkwardness at this age.…though I’d give my eye tooth to be able to get down on my knees without them hurting. But then, I have no more eye teeth to give.. so…..where was I? oh yes.. it’s not just the bodily graces I miss nearly as much as my brain. I won’t admit totally defeat when it comes to all brain functions.. not yet.. but when it comes to technical intelligence, just pass the dunce hat.

Both our oldest son, (hence forth to be referred to as Hootis.. a self inflicted nickname) and senior daughter, OG, have been instrumental in encouraging their mother to jump into the 21st century by way of blogging. Hootis has his own server which he generously offered up for his mother’s use in blogging . After numerous attempts to set up a blog his mother could use, I’ve had to admit defeat. I can’t even get the pass word to work.

OG, on the other hand, has sufficient computer skills ( and patience I might add) to encourage her mother along more commercial lines when it comes to blogging. She even talked me into getting myself a domain name, ah - - such faith in her old mother. Maigcbookmark.com - a website promoting great reading to kids of all ages.

Don’t bother. Nothing is there. I couldn’t make it work either.

I take comfort in the thought that my first two experiments in motherhood still love me enough to at least ‘think’ I could make the leap. Perhaps that’s an indication that I have some credibility left with them. Only time will tell.

Moving right along to remote controls: Does anyone reading this remember the days when you walked up to the television and turned it on?.. That’s where you changed the channels too. Don’t get me wrong.. I’m all for being able to stay curled up on the sofa, or tucked into your recliner to accomplish the same thing. But then along came the other stuff: the vhs and dvd players, the home theater, the tivo, the dvd carousel and the satellite receiver. Each one comes with it’s own remote. Raise your hand if you know how to co-ordinate them all. You won’t see me wagging my hand in the air!

If I were a conspiracy theorist I’d say this all has something to do with the male need to control the television! To prove he was falsely accused of such a dastardly plan, , EX-man purchased a universal remote…which just so happens requires a computer to program! It’s a vicious circle.. I’m not completely letting go of my suspicions yet!

What is a 60 year old, techno-challenged woman to do? In an attempt to make myself feel just a little capable I made of list of the remotes my brain currently understands:
- The remote chance that there might be something I want to watch on television when EX-man is home to co-ordinate the plethora of hand held gadgets required to do so. .
- The remote chance that it won’t be a decorating show I want to watch
- The remote chance EX-man won’t roll his eyes and pretend he didn’t hear me say I want to watch a home decorating show
- The remote possibility of the universal remote we bought ever being programmed so I CAN operate any of the home theater equipment.
- The remote chance that pigs will indeed someday fly!

Big sigh!

My brain is 60.. and is having one heck of a time transitioning to something less, when that less is more than I can figure out . It’s sad! But I’ve not given up yet. Obviously I have some work to do.. In the meantime, don’t try to sell me the idea that 60 is the new 40!

$60 is the new $40?? That works!

My New Best Friend

The writing life can be a lonely one. That isn’t to say it’s an unsocial one. I know many writers who, due to the unpredictable income of the writing life, hold down full time jobs. Writers younger than myself juggle jobs with an active family life.. some also have school. So, not all writers become a hermit like unto myself.

Don’t get me wrong.. I like people. And with certain limitations I like doing social things.. especially the family oriented ones. I even do lunch with the gals from time to time. But as an empty nester, married to an MPO director with doctor’s hours, who’s only been in town a few years, I’m slow to make friends and, bottom line, I do have reclusive tendencies.

In other words: It would be safe to say that all the pages in my address book are far from being full. Of those sparsely filled pages, most entries are that of family… who are the closest friends I have. A small percentage are professional and business entries.. and then maybe a dozen or less social ones.. Friends are a premium. I know a lot of people with which I’m friendly.. but real friends.. best friends if you will.. are not only few and far between.. but, due to my solitary leanings, end up being people who either understand and can work with my on again-off again social life, or who are so busy themselves they don’t notice the lack of my presence in their lives! In other words, high maintenance relationships are a real challenge for me.. and I usually do poorly at them..

..... And then there’s Ella.

Ella is a 7 month old Golden Lab/Vizila mix. Energy is her middle name.. which must mean that her official name is Ella Energy Enchanted now that I think about it.. When we adopted her from the Humane Society, a few weeks ago, she came with the name Natalie. We knew that wasn’t going to work before we even had her out of the pen!

A few hundred dollars later (puppies take almost as much gear as a baby these days!) we arrived home with my new best friend and settled in for our first evening at home. EX Man’s mom who was visiting from California, loves to watch movies. EX Man loves to show off the flat screen over the fireplace, mom-in-law had never seen Ella Enchanted.. …you can see where this is going.. right?

EX Man’s first suggestion was that we give our puppy the name Ella of Frell. This had to be ruled out immediately since, two years ago, K-girl dubbed my computer with that tag. Her dad, otherwise known as I.T. Guy, had just replaced our hard drive and was asking me what I wanted to title the new brain. Voila!.. there was my little decorating assistant ready to supply an identity far more gentle, not to mention regal, than what I frequently and heretofore had used. The computer and I are on precarious terms as it is.. I dare not confuse it with the dog!

So Ella Enchanted is was.. and Ella Energy Enchanted is it.. Talk about a high maintenance friendship.. I sometimes have to wonder what I was thinking to take on a puppy just as I determined to give a writing career another try.

While it’s been suggested that Ella is full grown at 8 months, you should check out her paws. I seriously have my doubts! But a girl can hope! At 45 pounds, on a dead run she can knock you over.. well just about.. Not that she means to.. she just thinks you’re another puppy who likes to romp around as much as she does. I’m thinking of investing in football gear.. you know.. the stuff those NFL guys wear to keep those big fullbacks from breaking bones when they take ya down.

Chew!… gracious this girl can chew…. I think we are fortunate that she is enamored ( for the most part) with the plethora of chew toys and snacks we keep on hand. Shortly after getting Ella home I read where puppies have two chewing periods in life.. the second one starting at about 7 months.. We immediately went out and purchased another plethora! Still, we have a wicker chair that has a slight boo-boo, and have quickly learned that plastic planters in the yard are no longer feasible. This is how we came to learn that spray bottles filled with water at all times, dispersed about the house.. are excellent deterrents to bad behavior. (I am hopeful that EX Man doesn’t get any ideas where I am concerned.)

I will also sing the praises of crates. As we left the Humane Society, we were gifted with tags, as well as a collar and leash of our choice. I chose poorly. Reeling in a 60 pound tuna on the open sea would be easier! But on the plus side we also were given an abundance of good ideas and info on integrating a puppy into our lives. Crate training was one of these suggestions. It’s the best $90 invest we’ve made.

Perhaps the previous owners of Triple E had done some crate training with her. We’ll never know. She came to us via a city far to the south with no pre-history. But her crate is her safe room.. She insists on sleeping there at night. She goes there when she knows she’s been naughty and pouts.. (She’s quite the dramatic pouter.. so she fits right in with several members of the family, who shall remain nameless) Best of all, when, on the fifth day of her life with us, Ella decided to stop being the perfect dog and chose indoor plumbing to outdoor, the crate was the tool that helped us change that idea in just 3 days. Add to this the idea that Ella will be traveling a lot with us (crates are far safer than letting her take over the back seat). …and you can see why we are big advocates of the ol’ crate.

Kongs are the other deal makers. And I’m not referring to the big apes. Filled with ground dog food and then frozen for longer lasting chew sessions, or slathered with peanut butter, which makes for a humorous round of silliness from Ella, these doggie toys are real life saver when the muse is collaborating with me and that latest idea has just got to get onto paper. http://www.petmountain.com/product/chew-toys/105306/kong-company-red-kong.html

Regardless of the challenges Ella presents. I wouldn’t hesitate to call her my New Best Friend. Our routine games of fetch and “where’s the kong”, help me ‘step away from the computer’ and get the exercise this old body so badly needs. She makes me laugh countless times throughout the day (I’d have named her Goofy if it were left up to me) And when she is calmed down and in a cuddly mood there’s nothing better than to have her nuzzle up to me. I can scratch her belly, or behind her ears, and it’s all tail waggin' GOOD!

Having read this I am realizing I should perhaps clarify a few things for those of you who are family and/or suspect you are on my best friend list:
- I’m still good for lunches that don’t include playing fetch
- Pouting sessions will still find me a good listener but I fear I haven’t a crate in your size should you feel the need for one
- Please don’t feel the need to provide me with a crate when I pout
- You won’t be getting kongs for Christmas unless you put in your order now
- Please don’t compare my yeast rolls to Ella’s chew toys.. Bread making is still a new experience for me.
- While I think Ella is the most beautiful puppy ever, you all need to know you are truly more beautiful than you realize... and this hermit oriented would-be writer wouldn't want to be without any of her best friends.. whether you can wag your tail or not.

Raising an Occasional Genius

I want to share with you one of my favorite blogs. http://occasionalgenius.com/ Just pay it a visit.. you’ll see why. Besides, you’ll need a little background from it to fully understand who all the characters are in this post.

37 years ago the author of Occasional Genius started life out as my buddy in a way mother’s seldom, if ever, wish for. While granting her mother’s request for a newborn weighing less than 7 pounds (she weighed in at 6 lbs. 15oz), she rushed in a bit early with Hyaline's Membrane Disease.

It was an emotional week for OG (Occasional Genius) ’s family. At the time, HMD was not as well understood as it is today.. and was often fatal. We all waited, not so patiently, on pins and needles and prayers to learn if the little gal in the ICU incubator was ever going to come home with us. Had I only realized then what is all too obvious today, I would have known OG was just hanging out in that incubator coming up with ideas and planning …..! Had it been within her power at the time, she would have redecorated the entire ICU unit I certain.

In our clan OG is recognized not only as athe Idea Gal but as the ‘other mother’. Each one of her siblings has lived with her at one time or another since leaving the original nest. In fact I’m pretty sure she’d be MY mother if she had gotten to earth first. She just has this way about her that takes control.. creative control more often than not. Instead of the name found on her birth certificate, we should have just named her Polly Project and gotten it over with!

I’ve always felt a little guilty that when IT Guy proposed to OG, we didn’t either offer a disclaimer about how OG’s mind works or at least give him a friendly warning:

“Don’t let her think for too long and don’t leave her alone for too long. You’re never sure what you’ll come home to!”

Ah - but of course he knows more about that now than we do… He’s come home to torn down walls, removed back doors, sawn in half and reassembled sofas… The list is endless..

Ever eager to share her ideas and projects with the masses, today OG posted a contest on her blog.. The winner receives a gallon of gas and cookies made by IT Guy, himself.. Trust me.. it’s worth entering just for the cookies!

All you have to do is tell about your favorite disaster memory courtesy of one of your children. I ask you: What mother could resist… especially when the person asking is one of your own kids?

My entry went something like this:

For my contest entry (disqualified or not due to being related ,and because of the “who” on which I am about to squeal ) I have chosen one of OG”s very own creative events… I will call it -
The New Bedroom
Step 1 - Switching, between two floors, our bedroom for hers while we were picking her brother up on Christmas Eve at the train station.Step 2- Painting that bedroom blue then decorating the walls with hers and her little sister’s foot and hand prints using orange enamel and flat white paint.Step 3 - Spilling that blue paint on the carpet before school the next morning and, with no time to clean it up, laying a blanket over it inhopes her mother would be none the wiser!
I might add that in spite of going to school and bringing her home to adjust the error of her ways, .. and despite the fact that she yelled through the school halls “You are ruining my life!!!!” as we walked , nay, as I drug her to the car, this final step occurred on the day she won the Colorado District 51 Middle School 80 meter hurdles champion - 1985.. I like to think, in part, her success was due to the fact that she was not feeling any guilt about what she had left behind that morning. A mother can only hope!

Love you, OG! Great blog! You make me proud!And just in case.. gas prices here are about $3.39
What readers of Occasional Genius will not have read .. is the 'rest of the story':

We shall fast forward to 3 months after the birth of the cutie pa-tootie referred to as Caboose. It was the week of Code Red’s, B-boy’s and K-Girl’s annual summer visit to Grammie and Grandad’s. Code Red’s only rule for summer visits has always been - NO PARENTS! However, this summer Holly and the Caboose were invited along because IT Guy was off to Georgia on a work related conference.

The week prior to the family visit we had been taking bids on a floor for the back porch area of our park-size backyard. At that time it consisted of nothing more than packed dirt covered with wood chips.

It was early on the afternoon of their first Sunday with us. The shuttle had just left with IT Guy, headed to the airport. We all sauntered out into the back yard to enjoy the pleasant summer weather. OG and I were swinging in the log porch swing with Caboose. Grandad was sipping a cool soda across from us in a lawn chair while the three older grandchildren played . Eventually the adult conversation lagged. It grew dangerously quiet as OG stared at our covered porch area.

OG: How much were the bids on your porch?
Grandad: $3,400. Cement from here to here with planters at the posts.( Grandad indicates where all this will go)

There is a pregnant pause .. and in which I suddenly realize what’s coming..
Sure enough:

OG: Why wouldn’t you build a wooden deck?
Grandad: Turns out to be almost the same price.
OG: Then why not frame it out, cover it with treated plywood, and cover that with something like indoor/outdoor carpeting? I can do it for $750. You can use the left over money on another project!
Grandad: ummm…. I’m not sure your mother would go for that.

(There are two responses from my husband which are dead give-aways that he’s caving. One is the utterance, “umm’, and the other is any sentence with the phrase,’ your mother’ in it!)

OG: If you could do another project with the left over money??? Sure you would, wouldn’t you, Mom?
Me: Are you saying you’d come back this summer and build that for us?
CG: No, I’m saying I’ll build it this week.
Me: Correct me if I’m wrong.. didn’t you just have a baby a few months ago?
OG: It’s been the most uncreative months of my life.. I need a creative project.

(Picture this for a moment.. I’m holding Caboose , one of THE most beautiful and precious little girls ever and CG is saying it’s been the most uncreative period of her life?
Yes, Virginia, even parents of adult children are often left to wonder)

Me: (having recovered from my stupor) But it’s the kids’ week.. .. not build-Grammie-and-Grandad-a-porch week.
OG: Watch this! – Kids!.. come here a minute. (The Terrific Trio gather around) How would you like to film our own decorating show? Code Red. you’re the host of the show, B-boy, you’re the head contractor, and G-girl, you’re our decorating specialist. We’re going to build Grammie and Grandad a porch and surprise Dad with it when he gets home.

Terrific Trio: (Enthusiastic with a capital E) Cool! Yeah!!!!.. when can we start?

You’re not surprised.. right? After all, these are the offspring of OG and IT Guy…so likewise you won’t be surprised when I finish by saying Grandad rearranged his work week to be home a few days to help; I immediately went in the house to make sure our ancient video camera still worked, and; OG had the plans, complete with price list, drawn up in less than an hour.

IT Guy got home in time to help with the last few details… instead of it being a complete surprise. But aside from that one little glitch, we now have a gorgeous new porch just outside our back door
…on which we spend most all our free time in good weather
.. where we’ve hosted the dinner to one of OG’s Pirate parties ( oh I’m sure she will post something about those soon)

... where I hang out with Ella as often as possible
… and which did, indeed, cost $750.. Okay so it was $780.. but that’s only because Grandad had to buy a new drill

SO! Parents of small children who bless your lives with their little creative disasters for now.. Patience.. and rest assured.. it gets better! LOTS better!

The Pirates' LIfe For Me!!!!

In the sewing room (we call it that because that’s where the sewing machine resides) there hangs a small bulletin board on which is written:
Career ideas:
Pirate
Fairy Godmother
Story teller
Grammie

The last entry was a shoe in.. I had already been doing that for 7 or so years when the list originated… .. but the idea was to make a list of possibilities I thought would be fun.

The list has been there for 5 years… Anyone who knows me will agree I don’t make decisions quickly. .. But then today I began to wonder if anyone truly knows me at all.. All these years I’ve thought I was a reasonably good candidate for any of those vocations… Then, I decided I’d play one of those email games where you send out questions to friends and family to see how well they know the real you.

Question # 9 was: Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules? To my amazement 91.6% of the replies were adamant that I followed the rules!!!! This is not good news to someone considering the life of a pirate! ..I’m not sure it really suits the job description for a Fairy Godmother, story teller or even grandmother! You can imagine the heavy heart I drug around most of the morning as the replies filtered in…

But then I remembered that regardless of how one may appear to others.. it is what’s inside that counts. My own grandmothers taught me that! So I marched into the kitchen and purposefully unfastened the cream carton on the opposite side to where it reads “Open this side”!!!!! Call me a goodie-two-shoes will they?

ARRRRRGH!!!!!!! Where’s me eye-patch! …

I’m on a rebellious roll now for certain……. I’m seriously considering buying dark instead of milk chocolate!!!!! ARRGGHHH!!! Where’s me other eye patch!?

In The Beginning

IN THE BEGINNING I was found under a rock somewhere in the vicinity of Fort Worth, Texas. That's how my Dad tells the story. He and my mother were walking home from a trip to the grocery store... Having been married scarcely a year I always figure they were walking home because they were poverty stricken newlyweds... and walking was a way to save gas money.. imagine thinking like that!

Anyway... For some reason never quite fully explained to my satisfaction, they decided to look under this infamous rock and there I was. D.O.D. (that's Dear Ol' Dad, as he likes to be called) sticks by the story that he wanted to leave me there but that Mother said, "Oh how cute!.. Let's take it home." And thus my history begins. I know nothing more than what I've been told and have no older siblings to dispute nor confirm the tale.

A chunk of decades later the one true thing I do know about myself is that I love to search and to observe and to ponder.... and most of all I love to write. I like to write about things that puzzle me, and things that make me smile.. I like to pay tribute to things of importance.. though they may only be of importance to me. I like to make lists, tell stories and keep track of life with words and pictures and little momentos.

Recently, some family members and friends have suggested I try blogging to help me reach some of my writing goals and to live some of my writing dreams..So.. today , though I should be working on a birthday present for our youngest daughter, spiffy-ing up the house for an upcoming visit from my mother-in-law, and doing some laundry so my husband will have clean socks to wear tomorrow, I have decided to take the plunge. If you want to come along for the ride.. you are welcome...

DRAT - I just burned lunch on the stove top while I was typing .. this endeavor could prove dangerous!