Be Still My Heart

Yes, I have a heart, regardless of what some people may think.  I'm sure, because today it has raced on three different occasions.  Without exercising!

First occasion was when I sat down to eat a sandwich and read the paper.  Music is blaring from the bathroom, where hubs is shaving and preparing for work.  TV is on to hear weather reports, general household sounds, then, poof, sudden darkness and silence, except for my heart racing.  Can't begin to explain how much I hate being without power!  Not here, not in summer, not in this heat.  It wasn't even storming, though "Alex" has been the topic of conversation for days.  Recollections of "Ike" and being without power for days, comes to mind.  Called the power company to report it and they said a line was down and would be back up, soon.  Thank goodness, now I could relax.

Second occasion was while talking to my daughter on the phone.  Small talk mostly, until out of the blue she screams... "OhmyGodmomI'mgonnahaftacallyouback!"  Click, silence, except for my heart, once again, racing.  Since she is the mother of two of my granddaughters, I panic, thinking one of them must be hurt.  After a bit, she calls back to tell me that someone had come barreling down the street (she lives in the curve) and hit her neighbors mailbox and gone up in the yard.  Luckily it was raining and the children that usually play outside, were tucked away, safe and sound.

I explained that if she ever has to let me go like that again, PLEASE manage to work in "it'snotthekids" so I won't have a heart attack.  She apologized profusely and agreed.

Third occasion was trying to contact my son.  He is out of town, (in Corpus Christi) to train his new assistant.  He called late Monday saying the law firm had been contemplating closing down and sending him home, due to the impending weather issues.  After hearing the hurricane wasn't supposed to be very strong, they decided to stay open and proceed with business as usual.  When I didn't hear from him by 10pm, I decided to call and check.  No answer.  He knows I was worried about him being there with a storm nearby.  He said he would keep me posted and I don't know what to think.  I'm trying hard to convince myself that if something had happened, somebody would have contacted me.  Now, if I could just convince my heart to stop racing.  

I'm exhausted from the internal calisthenics!  This is not my idea of a workout routine.  To think, after all this... my butt won't be any smaller, and the only six pack will still be found in the fridge and I hate beer!   

The Girl Behind The Blog

I had the wonderful pleasure of meeting Kristy @ This Train Of Thought Has Been Derailed.  What a beauty!  Crazy thing was, she didn't seem to be phased one bit by my crazy, old lady ways.  I hope to spend much more time with her, getting to know her better.  I'd even like to adopt her, but don't think her parents would agree.  Thanks for an enjoyable Saturday! 


Would like to wish all the dads out there a Happy Father's Day and to my husband, as well.  Honey, you are a wonderful father... and the kids think so, too!  Sorry you have to spend the day at work.


Oh, and Kristy... next time we'll do Italian!  Find one tall, dark and handsome!  Just kidding.

 

Memorial Day

My father lived through his service to our country and was awarded his medal personally.  Many did not.  To the brave men and women who lost their lives defending our freedom, Thank You!

 

Pat and Pipper

I should know better than to try to read and comment, before doing a post!  You'd think I would have learned by now.  Before another day goes by, I would like to thank Pat Tillett @ Extremely Overdue, for the wonderful award!  This man continues to amaze me with his ability to write.  For someone who has endured the struggles of a childhood like his, to not be bitter and mad at the world, is a true testament to a good man.  When he writes, a reader can truly feel the words.  I feel honored and blessed to be a part of his world, through his posts.  (and his photography is awesome)

Thank you, Pat!

I would also like to wish a "Happy Birthday to Pipper" my granddaughter that is turning 8, today.  Granny and Pop Pop love you very much and hope you enjoy your camping trip!  See you soon!

It's Been A Year!

Can't believe a year of blogging has come and gone.  It was just around this time last year, that I decided to give it a whirl.  Must admit it was me that got whirled on at least one occasion, but that's just the way the old mop flops.  Sorry, guess I had "mop" on the brain, since I just tried to mop my kitchen.  It's going to take much more than a mop to get the ground in crap up, possibly a jackhammer.  If anyone has a spare maid layin' around, send them my way.  Afraid I'm not very domestic anymore.  When the kids moved out of the house, I retired.  I do good to keep a path cleared from the coffeepot to the potty.  Besides, being a frequent commenter to my blog friends takes time and there isn't much left over to do something that will just need doing again, quicker than you can blink.  I'll stick with the more important stuff, thank you very much.  Thanks to everyone that has made this year special and especially the ones who have become more than just another blog to read. 

Along with the passing blog year, seems another birthday has crept up again for my youngest Son.  I keep telling my kids that their birthdays are making me old, but they just keep having them.  Slow down already!  Wasn't it just yesterday that I was giving birth to my little 9lb-3oz "Special Angel" baby?  Feels like it.  My body hasn't even recovered and here you are turning 31!  When you strike it rich, you can pay for the tummy tuck, mister. (have them suck out a few extra pounds while you're at it)  I'll allow you to coordinate with your siblings on the face lift, boob job and bladder suspension.  The butt lift can wait, I sit on it too often to consider stitches.

All joking aside... kinda... you are just as wonderful at 31, as you have always been.  Thank you for a blessed 31 years, and not one of those years, even in your teens, have you ever been ashamed to tell me you love me, kiss me hello and goodbye and provide the best hugs a mother could ever hope for.  Momma loves you very much!  Papa does too, but this ain't his blog and he doesn't even read it, so I get to say what I want.

Here's hoping your birthday is rain-free, the lasagna is filling (and I can remember how to make it) and the water is not too cold.  Please bring your own towel, Momma hates doing laundry.  

               "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, I LOVE YOU!"

               Who could resist that sweet face?

                  Ready to go play on the beach
 

         You and little sister, Halloween at school

                                  "Killer"

                               With Honors 

                          Recent - Photo Booth

My Dad

On May 13, 1997, a little over 3 weeks after losing my Mom, I lost my Dad.  We had a tough couple of years after he was diagnosed with cancer.  He had always insisted on being the caregiver for Mom. 


Dad had a terrible childhood.  He lost his mother when he was 5.  His father was a decorated veteran of World War I, that became an alcoholic.  He and his younger sister were raised by his aunt and uncle, who had children of their own.  Times were hard and he didn't feel loved, or nurtured, mostly just a burden.

He dropped out of school at 16, lied about his age, joined the Army and shipped off to Europe.  While there, he was blown up by a mine and was listed as missing in action, presumed dead.  Ended up in hospital, wounded from the explosion and carried shrapnel and scars, but told amazing stories of how they put maggots on his wounds, to eat away the dead flesh.  He was awarded a Purple Heart.

After being discharged, he came home, finished school and went to business college.  He used to tell stories of having a pet groundhog and taking it all over town with him, even to the ice cream parlor where he met my Mom.  I seem to recall him saying the groundhog hibernated too close to a train track and when trying to rouse, was run over and killed.

When a group of friends heard about possible employment opportunities at the Paper Mill in Texas, he agreed to drive them, since he had a car.  During this time, he was hired to work, and my Mom was hired as well, based on her work reputation.  He swore he would never move back to North Carolina, and though he visited regularly, he left his troubled past behind, refused to look back and barely spoke of it.

There is so much I don't know about this intelligent man and now the opportunity is gone.  We truly believe he lasted long enough to see that his wife, my Mom, was taken care of, so he could leave nothing unfinished. 
                              far right... what a baby face

I miss you, Dad.  You would love your great granddaughters, they are something else! 

Empty Nest - Mother's Day

I gave you life
I watched you grow
How was I
To ever know
That when you left
You'd take my heart
It stays with you
When we're apart

It seems like an eternity
Between the times
You're here with me
I miss the days
When you were small
Now I hardly see you
Much at all

A treasured card
Sits in a frame
I've kept them all
They bear your name
The cards are special
You can see...

...But it's "YOU" that means
So much to me.

Death Warmed Over and Awards

Survived 4 days with the girls and 6 days with the MILs dogs and now, of all times, I'm sick.  I've never suffered with seasonal allergies and if this is what it's like... I feel sorry for anyone that does.

The dogs got picked up Tuesday morning and I was looking forward to being able to get some rest, without one of them up my butt. (the dogs, not the girls)  We had a terrific weekend, even if they don't keep the same hours I do.  Went to the playground next door, on Saturday.  The weather was beautiful and the dogs didn't bite anyone, including the boy that insisted on petting them, even after I told him they weren't too friendly.  Reminded me of the many times I've heard a parent say... "My kid won't eat that"... then they do and totally make a liar out of you!  I'm sure the kid on the playground thought I was a liar.  I kinda felt like choking the dogs, for not biting him.

Hubby worked nights, from Friday evening until Tuesday morning.  On Monday morning, he started complaining his throat was sore and feeling swollen and irritated.  Having had an exposure to noxious chemicals at work, I thought it was just the aftereffects.  Within a few hours, my throat was irritated and driving me crazy.  I can't tell you how much illness I've been exposed to over the past year, without getting sick.  Not sure if the changing winds blew something in, or what, but I have coughed so much, my ribs are killing me.  I feel like I've been drug through a knothole, backwards!  Every time I cough, I was trying to hold my ribs, to keep them from breaking.  Ended up binding them, so I didn't have to keep trying to hold them.  Don't laugh, it has helped.

Guess I should be thankful this didn't come on while the kids were here.  I'll be even more thankful when I feel better and can play catch up on the rest I didn't get, while dog and kidsitting.

Since my last post, I received two awards.  Same award, from two different people.  Both are fantastic!

Momma Fargo, the fantastically funny female cop, that refers to herself as the popo.  If you don't already know her, stop in and introduce yourself.  If you go and get yourself arrested... DO NOT IMPLICATE ME!  Whatever you did, I wasn't involved.  Perhaps she will give you a ride in her new cruiser, if you ask nicely... or break the law.  Do not mess up the seats, please. 

Veteran Kindergarten Teacher will tell you amazing stories of her experience with kids and teaching for a whopping 34 years.  Just be sure you don't start talking about snakes, or you might send her into orbit. And no, you may not borrow her terrarium for the summer, so don't ask.

Please, if you haven't met these two ladies, stop in and say hello.

Since I'm feeling like death warmed over, I'm doing good to finally thank these two wonderful blog buddies.  I'm not going to be passing these on, at least not yet.  Maybe later, when I'm feeling better and have a better grasp of this new WHITE beast of a laptop, with NO MOUSE!  Right now I'll just settle for getting out a post, period.

To the new followers that I haven't located, thanks for following.  Stop in and leave a comment, so I can find you.  To the new visitors that left comments, thank you for stopping in.  Comments on any posts are wonderful and I would especially like to thank everyone that commented on the post about my Mom.  I'm sure she smiled at each one.     

Someone Special

Please bear with me on this post, as I struggle to tell you few things about someone very special.   

Born in the mountains of Western North Carolina, on December 21st, 1921, she didn't have an idyllic childhood.  Dragged back and forth, from her home to her grandparents, when the domestic battles were raging.  She was the sensitive one, unsure of herself.  Her younger brother, the fairer of hair and skin, was the apple of his mothers' eye.

Walking home from school one day, she was eight, he was six, when he bounced ahead, eager to show his report card to his mother, who was confined to bed, deathly ill.  That's when it happened.  A logging truck struck and killed him... right in front of her.  Her only sibling, gone.

From her bed, the mother has a "premonition" and stumbles out the door, running toward her son, somewhere in the distance.  She passes out before the confirmation has a chance to reach her.  The mother knows.  After her brothers' death, it was suggested her mother be institutionalized.  The son appeared to his mother and said, "Momma, I'm alright, I'm happy."  The mother recovered, but the little girl was very traumatized.  She refused to go back to the same school.  Couldn't bear to walk the same route that held the unbearable memories of her tragic loss.

She lost her grandfather, cut in half by a train. 

She had a nervous breakdown.

She survived Scarlet fever and a ruptured appendix, when medical care was much less advanced.

An early beau, flew his plane over her home, dropped out a few belongings, before crashing and killing himself.

Then came the lifeline... she went to work at the Paper Mill, where she also experienced her first indoor toilet.  Work helped her find purpose in her life.

She got married and relocated, to work for the Paper Mill in Texas.  After arriving and getting the required physical and chest x-ray, which led to more testing, she was diagnosed with Hodgkins disease.  She was given 6 weeks to live.  She underwent treatment and survived.

She was told she would never be able to have children.  It took seven years before she had her first and another 5 plus, before she had her second.

In 1972, after enduring a series of falls and being treated for an inner ear infection, she was diagnosed with a brain tumor the size of a small grapefruit, between her left and right lobe.  She took a 6 month medical leave to undergo surgery, not knowing what to expect after.  Would she speak, walk, be able to see, have any memories, or even partial memories?  The odds were against her being without some type of disability, due to the massive size.  She endured 10+ hours of surgery, where she had holes drilled in her skull and was cut from ear to ear across the top of her head, for a section of skull to be removed to access the tumor.  She did a brief stint with physical therapy while still in the hospital, was released and back to work a month later, stark bald, refusing to wear a wig because she said it was itchy and uncomfortable.

She retired after 40 years working for the Paper Mill, only to begin her golden years with more health issues.  Several years of medication for what they diagnosed as Parkinson's disease, was later diagnosed as Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. 

She lost her ability to read, which she loved with a passion.  Later, she lost the ability to walk without help.  This very modest woman had to depend on someone to help her go to the bathroom.  Eventually, even a trip to the bathroom was out of the question and she was reduced to wearing diapers.  She could no longer eat without choking, she could barely speak and was hard to understand.  She couldn't scratch an itch or move on her own.  Body contorted, one leg and one arm drawn up, fingernails digging into her palms. 

She had a permanent feeding tube inserted in her stomach for nutrition, without anesthesia. 

When she left the hospital the last time, she came to live with me, as her husband was dying of cancer.  Never, to my knowledge, did my Mother ever say "why me?"  She had a terrific sense of humor and could even muster a demonic sounding laugh during what I would have considered "major" indignities. 

She was brave beyond belief. 

She passed away on April 18th, 1997. 

Mom, I love you and miss you!

 

April 9, 1982

Twenty eight years!  Seems impossible.  Time certainly has a way of slipping by, whether we like it, or not. 

I have a very hard time dealing with the fact I have no children at home.  My happiest times were when my children were young and I was attempting to be supermom.  Granted, it was hard... but, oh how I miss it.

My beautiful, amazing, strong, loving, forgiving, wonderful daughter, turns 28 years old today.  She's my fourth child and only girl.  How I thank God for her!

She listens when the words are hard for me and struggles through my tears with patience, compassion and understanding.

She has provided me with two of my wonderful granddaughters, "Twink" & "Tink" and allows me the opportunity to share my love.

She has a much greater ability to forgive, than I do.  (she obviously inherited that from her Daddy)

She has a strength about her that I do not possess.  (must get that from Daddy, too)

She refuses to let the bad times keep her down... and she's had some bad times and her share of heartache.

Baby Girl, and yes, I can still call you my baby girl, because no matter how old you get, you will always be my baby... I Love You and wish you a very Happy Birthday!

Since my photo app and MP Navigator still aren't available, I'll have to post a couple of pictures I swiped off my MySpace.  Wish I was able to put some other ones on here, but I'm afraid they will have to wait.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY EBBIE, I LOVE YOU!"

A Little Behind

No, I don't have one! (a little behind)  What I have had is a rough couple of days.  Started Tuesday evening, anticipating having to wake up to the alarm clock Wednesday morning.  Just knowing this made it nigh on impossible to get to sleep.  When I'm able to sleep, I hate being startled awake with some horrifically annoying, blaring noise.  A jarring reminder that I'm still alive, since my heart is racing, trying to jump out of my chest.  Somehow, this doesn't make for a great start.

Hubs is always up at the butt crack on his days off, just to make me look bad morning person that he is.  He's usually playing with the mistress music, on the computer, whistling, or some other such nonsense.  The coffee is usually made, thank goodness!

Grabbed some coffee Wednesday morning, headed straight to the bathroom in an effort to paint my face, so as not scare the life out of people on the outside world.  It never works, but I had to settle for doing the best I could, with what little I have.  Made it for the appointment to have our taxes done. (no, we don't do it ourselves, it's too darn complicated and we don't want to be held responsible if we screw it up)  We survived and were out of there before noon.  Went to the diner to grab some breakfast, which never happens that early in the day.  Stopped by an antique shop so Hubs could feed the mistress to browse and I could skulk around, feeling contrite.

Having survived the early day and feeling rather pleased, we headed home and I planned to catch up on blogs and emails and generally laze around.  No such luck.  Barely made it in the door, when my Daughter calls crying, in a major panic.  I can hear "Tink" in the background, wailing in a sound that can't be described.  Poor baby had already been to the doctor earlier that day, running a high fever, congested, coughing and had an ear infection.  She had fallen asleep after the ordeal and woke up screaming with shoulder/neck pain.  Don't even remember driving over there, it's a total blur.  Luckily it's only about 5 miles.  Fortunately, Hubs was able to pick "Twink" (her sister) up at school and bring her on home, and in all the hubbub she wasn't forgotten.

That child was SO sick!  Felt like I was having a flashback to my younger days, as a mother with young kids, struggling when the inevitable sickness happened.  Dreading the nighttime, when the fevers always seem to rise.  Wishing the medications would work their magic quickly and ease the suffering... theirs and mine.

What a difference a day makes!  "Tink" is nothing like yesterday, thank you Lord.  No fever, no pain.  Still snotty and coughing, but on the mend.  Mommy and Granny survived, too.

Managed to get on here some, in between the chaos and having to share the computer, still.  That white laptop is sounding sweeter and sweeter, in spite of the color.  During the time away, I've managed to get more than a little behind.  I'm still trying to catch up.  I will, eventually.  Don't know how you BIG BLOGS manage.  Crap, I'm small and already there doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day, to read, comment and post.  Don't think I'll ever be able to post every day.  Think I prefer you deciding the topic and all I have to do is read and comment.  Heck, that's a full time job!

Thanks to the new followers!  Still haven't located a couple of you, since you didn't leave comments.

Bendigo, I haven't forgotten you, either.  I'm going as fast as this tired old woman can go.

Jenny, as soon as I get the birdies and my photo application going, I'll post.

Now, I'm off to read and comment to each of you, for as long as I can keep my eyes open.  Thanks everyone!   

March 15th

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad.  Celebrating in heaven, since 1997.  I miss you.

The Brilliance Is Blinding!

If you were a fly on the wall around here, you would be privy to some truly brilliant conversations between the hubby and me.  I recently mentioned we might be needing assistance sooner than expected... This is another reason.

Hubby works a twelve hour shift and usually calls me, at least twice.  Just a couple of days ago, he called as he was leaving work.

Him:  We gonna go get something to eat when I get
          home?
Me:    Yeah, it's either that, or the other option...
          starve! (at least I gave options)
Him:   You gonna wait till I get home?
Me:     Um... yeah?... how would WE go eat BEFORE 
           you get home?
Him:   Oh yeah... duhhhhhh!

Later the same evening, we are sitting in a diner we frequent that plays oldies, when a song comes on.  As much as I like music, I tend to get annoyed and somewhat brain frozen when hubby says... "Do you remember who this is?"  I used to have the same feeling when I would walk into class and the teacher would announce "POP QUIZ!"  It didn't matter how much was in my head, it suddenly became inaccessible!

Back to the male voice singing... love and happiness...

I know who this is... it's on the tip of my tongue, when out of his mouth comes... "Think of a bird and a color."

"What?"  Ok, the name has now completely escaped me, again.  "What are you talking about?  A bird and a color?"  He reaches out and pulls on my shirt.  Now what?

"Color?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your shirt, what color is it?"

"It's green!  Oh yeah, Al Green!  That's what you were trying to give me as a clue?  You said think of a bird and a color... ok, I get the green, but bird?  What the heck kind of clue is that?"

"A bird, you know, like an owl... OWL GREEN!"

I'll admit this one gave me a chuckle and of course, a cough.  I can't do one without the other.

Today he calls from the cell as he is leaving his Mom's house, after helping her take care of some business.  Once again he asks if I want to grab a bite to eat.  I tell him yes.  Then he asks... "Have you done yourself?"  I replied "Not lately!"  He then said what he meant to say, which was "Have you done your makeup and gotten dressed?" To which I replied, "Yes, I have done that."

Hubby then relays a short snippet of conversation he had with a co-worker about the Super Bowl...
"So, Mike... you have a big party planned for the Super Bowl?"  

Mike replies... "Nope, just me and my LazyBoy."

Hubby says... "Oh, so your son is coming over!"

I'm surprised he was able to admit that last one!  I was sure the stupidness was just between us. 




 
  
 
  
 

I Thought It Was Funny!

Surely everyone out there buys cookies, right?  My hubby is a cookie lover.  Must have a cookie after eating, for snack and in general... whenever he so chooses.  Yeah, we're not fitness buffs, does it show?  It certainly does, right around the middle!  We use large glass apothecary jars, for the array of cookies he decides to buy.  One exception to that is Oreo's.  He buys them on a regular basis, but hates putting them in the jars.  Says they don't stay crisp enough.  You know how many of the packages, including Oreo, has the panel on the front, that allows you to peel it back and re-seal it?  A few months ago, my daughter was here while her Dad was making a lunch to take to work.  He comes flying around the corner, in a tizzy, and says, "Look at this!"  He is displaying the tray from the Oreo cookies, showing that some are missing.  He states, "I just opened it, it came this way."  Daughter and I couldn't help but laugh and try to explain the panel on the front of the cookie package and assure him it did not come that way, it had already been partially eaten by my Daughter and grandkids.  He did not seem amused.

Flash forward a few months, to today.  Once again, he is making his lunch, cuts the end of the package open, races to me with it and says the same thing.  Again I explained it to him and reminded him the same thing had happened before.  He most definitely didn't seem amused and was shocked that it was the second time this had happened and he had no memory of the first.  He said he had been holding off opening the bag, thinking it was still full and not wanting to be the first to get in it.  It's nice to know I'm not the only one losing my mind.  What's sad is... both us lunatics live in the same house and may need assistance much sooner than expected.

Changing the subject, I know I've mentioned before, that the main reason I joined blogger, was to be able to follow a couple of friends and leave comments, other than anonymously.  Seems like I no sooner start blogging and they either slack off, or fall off the face of the blogosphere.  I don't think it's my fault?  In the meantime, I have found some wonderful blogs out there.  I've never made much effort to search for new blogs to follow, but have found a few through witty comments they make to blogs I do follow, which in turn has sparked my interest.  There are some really interesting people out there, witty, funny, sarcastic and talented.  I especially like the ones that interact back with the people who take the time to read and make comments to their blog.  Keep up the good work!

To my new followers, "THANK YOU!"  To my not as new followers, "THANK YOU, TOO!"  I'm not very diligent with this, but may be a little bit encouraged to try harder.  Doubt I'll ever be able to post on a daily basis, it's just too overwhelming to hit that PUBLISH POST button and put it out there.  Reminds me of a hospital gown, you know... OVEREXPOSED!

The Affair

My husband is having an affair!  It's been going on for years and years.  Even before we married, he was involved with the "Mistress".  She is his first love.  His affair has effected the entire family.  His wanton ways have rubbed off on his children.  He introduces her to everyone, with no shame whatsoever.  His grown sons applaud his escapades and are following the same path.  He encourages them every chance he gets.  When we first married, he boldly invited her into our home, almost daily.  She was a constant companion on weekends.  She still is an ever-present competition.  I believe if it ever came down to choosing between us, she would win, hands down!  I cannot compete with the joy she brings him.  His mistress... MUSIC!

Discussing the Mistress

My husband collects vinyl LPs and 45's.  It's a passion.  Since my Second Son, a chip off the old block, also collects, I asked him to give me an estimate on the number of records he figures his Dad has.  His guesstimate was 100,000!  Mine was at least 50 to 60,000.  He's probably closer.  

                                      

Now I guess you have an idea why I can't compete with his mistress.  She's had her hooks in him, way too long.  As I'm typing this, she is lulling him with her charms.  I can hear her... the WITCH!

January 17, 1977

On this date, 33 years ago, I gave birth to my second son.  Here's wishing him a Very Happy Birthday!  Since I haven't seen him since Christmas Eve, this will be a reminder that... just because you are 33 years old, doesn't give you the excuse that you can neglect your parents!  Remember, if you think you are getting old... think how old your parents are!

Caught with a mouth full...

If you don't show up today, consider yourself up $hit Creek... and don't bother looking for a paddle, cause I'll be beating you with it!  No excuses, 'nuff said.

It's Over!

Christmas has come and gone, at last.  I survived it, yet another year.  I've mentioned to a few friends, how I can't help remembering the old jingle... plop plop, fizz fizz, oh what a relief it is!

My youngest son came over early, to help with the grits.  Our holidays must include garlic, cheese grits.  He enjoys cooking, thank goodness and doesn't mind all the stirring involved.  That's the hardest part to making the grits.  It wears me out!  We made a big, double batch so he could introduce his friends to the tradition.  They loved it!

              New Generation Grit Master


Christmas Eve, the main gathering, went surprisingly well.  The little ones were full of energy and got along great.  At one point, they figured out how to climb into a large trash can, put on the lid and roll each other around.  I couldn't bring myself to watch that activity, but suffice it to say, they were supervised by someone with a stronger heart and better nerves than mine.  They had a ball!

              Some of the kids, sitting still


Christmas day was rather calm around here.  We slept late, waited for youngest Son to get here, watched "A Christmas Story" for the umpteenth time, went out to eat, then headed over to my Daughter's house for a bit.


For someone that doesn't deal with the holidays very well, I must admit... it wasn't bad.  That doesn't mean I won't be whining and complaining next year.  I always do.  The family wouldn't recognize me, any other way.  So, until next year, this Christmas is over and done with.  Bye, Bye, from Ms. Grinch.

The Worry Wall

Years ago, when I still had three teenagers living at home, dating, driving and doing all the things adolescents do, I decided I needed something to occupy my worried mind.  I love paint!  I started out with oils, but due to the chemical problems I was forced to give it up and go to acrylics.  Acrylics are a whole different medium, much harder to blend, nearly impossible to use a palate knife with, but much safer for me.  I'm certainly no artist, primitive at best and terrible on a rough textured wall, but loved to immerse myself in it just the same.  When I have a paintbrush in my hand, I have nothing else on my mind.  Sometimes that can be a life saver, especially with teen drivers on the road and dating.  I started out with a fence and it grew from there.  Originally, it only had a little bit of ivy.  As time went on, that ivy went out of control.  The more drama, the more ivy.  The grandkids loved it when they were potty training.  They would count cows and trees, find the cat, the pig, the dogs...

I haven't had the paint brush out for quite a while, even though there is always something I'm worrying about.  My old, tired body just can't take it anymore.  I miss it!

Special Day!

Today is a very special day, indeed.  Little Miss "Tink" turned 5 years old.  She's the youngest of my granddaughters and it's hard to believe five years have gone by, since she was born.

"VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TINK!"  GRANNY AND POP POP LOVE YOU VERY MUCH. 

 

October 20, 1971-2009

Back in early September my oldest son called me for a little help looking up information for my oldest grandddaughter's homework.  Seems the school wouldn't let them bring home the textbook.  Not sure how that works for families that don't have computer access.  During our struggle with the specific site designated for this assignment, and his confusion in trying to get to the same page I had managed to access, I told him to just type in the very long URL as I called it out.  We're talking L O N G web address!  It was getting late and we were already frazzled, so he says "Crap, Mom... let me get wifey, tell it to her, she types way faster than I do... I'M A PECKER!"  Hey, he said it, I didn't.  One of the rare times he and I are in total agreement.


Here it is October 19th, the eve of his birth, 38 years ago.  Can't believe it's been that long.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PECKER!"

Daddy Sandwich with Pipper, Pecker and Special