Bloggy Talk....

For those of you -- US!! -- who do a lot of pondering about blogs, blogging, and why we bother blogging, here's an interesting forum I came across in Blogger Help. I've barely touched on it and plan to do some more reading when I get the chance. Also, someone opened a thread on finding good blogs to read and has had over 500 responses so far so if you're looking for something 'new' to read, you might try this out.

15 Words

Rain coats

furnace filters

broken glass

floor needs sweeping

cantaloupe

what's for dinner?

bad hair

Why do people do what they do?!

I got notification from a bloggy friend last nite whose blog I've been visiting for the past year or so, I'd say, telling me she's had to put her blog out of the public domain. From now on it's Invitation Only. She didn't go in to detail as to why she had to do this. But I think I know. She's had a lot of life changes going on and has been very honest and open writing about her feelings. Sometimes people can be very hurtful and judgmental in their comments. I just find it sad that anonymous commenters or stalkers can become as bad on here for writers to deal with as they can be in real life.

Just another day in the life....

I notice I've been getting a lot of different traffic lately, a lot of towns and cities from the US and around the world that aren't familiar to me as I glimpse them on my Feedjit doo-hickey. Still and forever and always no one is very brave to speak up and get acquainted outside of my bloggy friends, but that's ok. It's just nice to have you stop by and know that you're reading. I flit around the blogosphere in spurts and I probably comment on only a few of the ones I come across randomly, too. But I can write epic comments...just ask the poor souls I visit regularly. Sometimes I think my comments are almost longer than their posts!

I believe it was last week we had what will probably be our last day of 90+ degree heat this year. Today it barely reached 60 and spit out rain intermittently thru the day. It didn't stop the grandboys and me...we still managed to walk about 4 miles and stopped to watch the sewer crew working nearby for several minutes. We've become daily visitors there for the past week or so and the work crew even call out to the boys, which thrills them to no end. They got a big kick out of Dylan one day last week when he brought along one of his toy backhoes and held it up for all the men to see. What a gearhead! I am determined to wait until the first of October to turn on the furnace but today I was sorely tempted. If my daughter-in-law had packed shorts and short-sleeved t-shirts I would have but the boys were in long jeans and sweatshirts today so they were plenty warm. I blogged about bringing home three boxes of Snuggie wraps in my stroller the other day...my daughter pulled hers out of the box this evening and I think we're all going to enjoy wrapping up in those in the evenings. I know utility rates have skyrocketed all over the country and it just galls me to open up my gas and electricity bills. These Snuggies will be our way of wagging our noses at the greedy 'utility czars', ha! I wonder if the furnace will even start?! I wonder that every year, it's so old. But it always seems to chug to life with a few dusty coughs the first time.

Well, I've been awake since 1 am and it's now close to 7:30. This old granny needs her beauty sleep....

I wouldn't want my kids out there, either....

I dunno...I think the children of world-famous figures deserve privacy and protection in this wacko-world. How do you feel about it?

Lack of....well, just lack of.

The past two nites, when the alarm has gone off at 1 am for Dear Hubby to get up, I haven't been able to fall back to sleep even tho I still have over two hours from that point until I have to get up. My brain has been going in to overdrive. Some of the thoughts that have flooded in have been about the goofiest things. Things I don't even normally dwell on. And a lot of those songs with ear worm lyrics that play over. And over. And over. Again. Blech. All day yesterday and last nite it was a song from "Jungle Book"...the one that goes, "Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh...I wanna be like you-ooooh-ooooh" or something to that effect. It drove me crazy but every time I started in on it again -- I found myself singing it during most of my waking hours -- Cooper would grin and begin bouncing his head in rhythm with it. The child is easily amused. We also spent a lot of time marching and dancing around the dining room to "Looking for a City" by the Chuckwagon Gang but that's a whole 'nother story.

Yesterday it was like Autumn kind of crept in on cat's feet. Which reminds me of how much I love this Carl Sandburg poem:

The Fog

THE fog comes
on little cat feet.


It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

And Autumn here in the Northwest...except for a few exceptionally beautiful Indian Summer days...means the return of low gray clouds that blanket us for months. And months. And months. On end. Oh, and don't forget the rain. I took the boys for a rather quick walk yesterday because I desperately needed apple juice and coffee filters and thought for sure it was going to begin raining before we got home. Only a few random raindrops that plop-plopped down on my forehead and that was it. But I felt kind of restless and...melancholy...all day. I don't know why. Maybe it was because I saw a man entering in to a store and he could've been my father's twin. My dad's been dead for 3 1/2 years now but whenever I spot someone who looks similar to him or my mom...she's been gone 20 years...it still causes my heart to skip and is like someone thrusts a knife into my heart and gives it a good, hard twist.

I feel like it's been ages since I've written anything of substance...anything of mine on here. Well, outside of the poems I wrote about my grandsons that I gave to my son for his birthday. My brain is loaded with thoughts. My days are gone before I know it. Oh well. I know someday I'll be sitting around twiddling my thumbs as I rock away my days. But, in all honesty, I hope that's never true. As long as I have my health I hope to be busy. Time is so precious I don't want to squander it away.

And, with this rambling free fall thru my head this morning winding its way down, I'll post this and go take a shower. It's only 4:20 but my day starts soon.

Oh, yeah...

A great baby shower gift

As you all know, I'm nuts when it comes to walking the grandboys in their double stroller. I'm nuts when it comes to walking, period. Dear Hubby and I got out on the glorious Saturday we just had and walked 5 miles, stopping for coffee in the sunshine along the way. With our infamous dreary, wet Oregon fall/winter weather just ahead of us, I purchased a Jeep brand Stroller Starter Kit when I was at Walmart on Saturday doing my shopping. This one advertised on Walmart's online site is $19.97. Buying it instore, it cost me $16...plus there are no shipping and handling charges, which saves even more.

Anyway...with all that said...I thought, "What a great shower gift!" What comes inside is the plastic rain cover, a see-through netting for summer months to keep out bugs, a mesh bag you can hang on the handle to carry your cell phone, etc., and a little bag of 12 Linkables to link toys/pacifiers to the stroller without them dropping them on the sidewalk every 10 seconds for us to pick up. The one I bought is for a single stroller, which I also have, now that Dylan's walking beside me most of the time. I'll be purchasing a rain slicker for him this coming weekend to keep him dry. Once the inclement weather comes I cut down the length of our walks quite a bit but I'm still a great believer in getting the boys outside in lots of fresh air.

If you know a mom-to-be who you think will be out walking her baby a lot, I think this would be a great shower gift. I wish I'd had it back from the beginning when Dylan first arrived on the scene, but I've still got a year or two of Cooper still riding along so I feel it was money well spent.

Go check this site out.....

You'll be glad you did.

Click here.

I don't 'do' advertisements in my sidebars or have them stuck in between my entries. I dunno about you but I find them very distracting when I'm trying to read. I'm there to read what you're thinking. With that said, I'm going to personally endorse a product I've begun using recently. No one has asked me to. I'm not being paid for it. I'm recommending it because it really works!!! It's called Menoquil and it's for us postmenopausal women especially who deal with night sweats, insomnia, anxiety, mood swings, dryness, hot flashes...all those fun things. I very rarely ever watch Oprah but I saw in my research of this that she featured it on her show. Her endorsements don't ever sway me one way or another. It was by reading actual customer reviews that persuaded me to order some and try it out for myself. I'm providing a link so you can go read about it yourself if you're interested. And for my readers who come here from the UK, this product is also available there as well...this is the link .

It's all natural. It has no known side effects. The only warning I'll give you is start out with one per day. They're strong, at least for me. I tried 2 for my first dosage and they almost knocked me on my fanny. One a half hour before bedtime is just perfect for me. Since taking it I have not had ONE night sweat. I'm not getting hot flashes. I haven't had much trouble with mood swings but I do find I seem to stay more even keeled now...anxiety won't come sweeping over me unexpectedly. You get 120 tablets which, for a woman who can tolerate 4 per day, equals out to a month's supply. With only needing one per day, a bottle will last me close to 4 months. I haven't found a local store that supplies it so I'm ordering it online. It's around $40 for 120. For me, that equals out to around $10 per month. Totally affordable. The Vivelle estrogen patches I was prescribed cost me $30 per month. And I didn't feel comfortable using those at all.

A miracle antidote? I dunno. But until something better comes along I'm sold.

Take me home, country roads....

(We actually had one of these when I was a kid!)


A little house with three bedrooms, one bathroom and one car on the street.

A mower that you had to push to make the grass look neat.

In the kitchen on the wall we only had one phone,

And no need for recording things, someone was always home.

We only had a living room where we would congregate,

Unless it was at mealtime in the kitchen where we ate.

We had no need for family rooms or extra rooms to dine,

When meeting as a family those two rooms would work out fine.

We only had one TV set, and channels maybe two,

But always there was one of them with something worth the view.

For snacks we had potato chips that tasted like a chip,

And if you wanted flavor there was Lipton's onion dip.

Store-bought snacks were rare because my mother liked to cook,

And nothing can compare to snacks in Betty Crocker's book.

Weekends were for family trips or staying home to play,

We all did things together -- even went to church to pray.

When we did our weekend trips depending on the weather,

No one stayed at home because we liked to be together.

Sometimes we would separate to do things on our own,

But we knew where the others were without our own cell phone.

Then there were the movies with your favorite movie star,

And nothing can compare to watching movies in your car.

Then there were the picnics at the peak of summer season,

Pack a lunch and find some trees and never need a reason.

Get a baseball game together with all the friends you know,

Have real action playing ball -- and no game video.

Remember when the doctor used to be the family friend,

And didn't need insurance or a lawyer to defend?

The way that he took care of you or what he had to do,

Because he took an oath and strived to do the best for you.

Remember going to the store and shopping casually,

And when you went to pay for it you used your own money?

Nothing that you had to swipe or punch in some amount,

Remember when the cashier person had to really count?

The milkman used to go from door to door,

And it was just a few cents more than going to the store.

There was a time when mailed letters came right to your door,

Without a lot of junk mail ads sent out by every store.

The mailman knew each house by name and knew where it was sent;

There were not loads of mail addressed to"present occupant."

There was a time when just one glance was all that it would take,

And you would know the kind of car, the model and the make.

They didn't look like turtles trying to squeeze out every mile;

They were streamlined, white walls, fins, and really had some style.

One time the music that you played whenever you would jive,

Was from a vinyl, big-holed record called a forty-five.

The record player had a post to keep them all in line,

And then the records would drop down and play one at a time.

Oh sure, we had our problems then, just like we do today,

And always we were striving, trying for a better way.

Oh, the simple life we lived still seems like so much fun,

How can you explain a game, just kick the can and run?

And why would boys put baseball cards between bicycle spokes,

And for a nickel red machines had little bottled Cokes?

This life seemed so much easier and slower in some ways,

I love the new technology but I sure miss those days.

So time moves on and so do we, and nothing stays the same,

But I sure love to reminisce and walk down memory lane.



--- Author Unknown

I live in the house at the end of the road.....

I want to live on this street named Blogger Street. You probably will, too. It's the street where all the wonderful friends you've made in the bloggy world...bloggers and non-bloggers alike...live. Maybe not in the real world but definitely in my world. I depend on my blog friendships. I depend on them a lot. At least until my grandboys go to school, my life doesn't have much time or room for my face-to-face friends and acquaintances, for visits and get togethers and long, rambling phone calls. I don't even know how to use my cell phone beyond finding telephone numbers for my family and calling them when I need to. What is so wonderful about blog friends is you know exactly where to find them, in their "web house" that you can go visit with a click of a button. You're never imposing on their time. They can come visit you any time and they're not imposing on you, either. They're always welcome, as I hope I'm always welcome at their 'homes', too. We comment, we email. We love and support one another. We cry tears with them when they're hurting. We share joy and turmoil and whines and rants and laughs and moments of personal doubt and despair.

Come on by whenever you feel like it. The coffee is almost always on. And let me know if you'd like to live on Blogger Street, too.

My Son is 31 Today

I gave birth to all 12 pounds of you 31 years ago today.

I don't know how we did it.

Happy Birthday, Baby Boy.

Somehow I managed to give birth to my children

exactly 2 years and 23 hours to the minute

between their arrivals.

(His sister's 33rd was yesterday but I have no online photos of her.

But we gave her a present and chinese food for dinner last nite!

Happy-one-day-late Birthday, Baby Girl!)

I sympathize....

The other day I pushed home

a double stroller with:

2 toddlers weighing about 90 pounds total

3 boxes of those "Snuggie" blankets seen on TV

A gallon of milk

A full medium-sized grocery bag tied on the handle

3 library books

a length of 2 miles

...and I'm probably around 30 years older than

HER!

Take a gander at the back axle and wheels....

15 Words

I don't know how often I'll participate but I saw this simple weekly Wednesday meme on a couple of blogs...Betty's was one (you must think I live over at Betty's as much as I link to her lately but that's not quite true. I visit a lot because she's like me and posts just about every day)...and thought I'd try it this week because short & sweet isn't always the way I like writing, but quite often it's all I have time for.

The rules?
Describe your life, your day, your mood,

your minute ... anything ... using
no full sentences
no coherence
no pix
all in 15 words!!
That's it.

So here goes:

Wet socks

Mystery to me

Drawer full

Sun-blasted days

Leaves frolicking

Happy riding

Little boys

It's kind of like a hyper-extended haiku in a way...a mini poem.

My cup of tea.

One can always hope...

I used to be a huge Nancy Thayer fan. In fact, her book "Three Women at the Water's Edge" is one of my all time favorites, a book I pick up every 5 years or so and read yet again. But once she started in on her "Hot Flash" series of books she lost me. When I noticed a few years ago that she'd written a 'regular' novel once more I eagerly anticipated its arrival at my public library branch, hoping it would renew my love for her writing. Sad to say, it didn't.


Once again a new book has come out by her called "Summer House". I noticed tonite on my library account that a copy is waiting for me at the library. The grandboys and I will be walking over there tomorrow to pick it up. I hope it's worth the walk.


I'll let you know.

There's something very soul-soothing in going outside at 4 in the morning, gazing up at the heavens, and still seeing the Big Dipper exactly where it's supposed to be.
"And He made the stars also..."

5 Word Meme

Short of time -- as always -- so I'm going to do 5 Word Answers to this Meme list I received from Betty:

Thanksgiving: Daily

Grandkids: Irreplaceable

Vacation: Short

Cooking: Minimal

Halloween: Ignorable

(I am not a big Halloween fan)

And now it's time to make the bed, start a load of laundry, get dressed, and fold some towels. The excitement never ends around here.

A wild day at the mall....

Dear Hubby and me in 30 years

Betty's Challenge

Editor' Note:

The video is GONE!!!

Enough mortification.....

I have a relatively new bloggy friend named Betty from Paraguay. A lovely gal...you should go here and get acquainted with her. She recently wrote a very interesting post about living in Paraguay and about being a Mennonite. She speaks German, Spanish, and English and has also lived in Canada in the past. I left a comment telling her I'd love to see her make an audio video so we could hear what she sounds like, since to my knowledge I've never known anyone from Paraguay. I had to look at a map of the world to refresh my memory as to where Paraguay is. I knew if was in South America but that's about as far as I could remember from geography lessons I had about the world's countries when I was in 4th grade. That was in 1962/63. A long long long time ago.

Betty challenged me to make an audio video too. Me, the elusive photo-hating -- of myself, anyway -- camera dodging person that I am. I didn't even know how. So I asked my daughter, "Do you think your phone could make an audio video?" I mean, her phone is so cool I think it could make pancakes if we asked it to. Daughter said yes, it could. And she came out here to my desk where I sat in my old blue nite shirt and pointed the phone at me, not letting me know when it started so I'd be "natural" and not freeze up. Our first attempt didn't work so well...she said I sounded too "perky" and not myself. Perky? I have never been accused of being perky before but oh well. What do I know about myself? The second attempt was too long. The third attempt was too long. By the time this version came along I was definitely no longer "perky".

And so, Betty...it's your turn, girlfriend.

I never knew I was so goofy.

I am definitely going to regret this in the morning.

...And ME!

You are my

"And ME!"

boy,

the little one who'll never be

left

behind.

The one who

drowses in my arms

and pulls back to look at me

and says

"AmMa"

as if to make sure

I'm still there.

Oh, baby boy...

yes I am.

I

am.

In millions of moments.

Suffice it to say

you are not number

Two.

Suffice it to say

you are there tucked away

in recesses of

my heart that are carved out

only for

you.

You are the one

who'll suddenly stop in your travels

and sing as you go

around in circles in a

sunbeam.

You are the one

who says "yes"

with your

entire being.

You are the one

who followed once but only

once.

You will never

take a back seat to

anyone.

Dylan's Eyes

Oh,

what deep thoughts

are sheltered

there.

Such exquisite beauty.

I see my mother

in them

on certain days.

I see strength and wisdom

beyond

your age.

Somehow the love you have

for your brother

melts them

whenever you bend down

and kiss him

awake.

They are as clear

as a sun-dappled river

on an early

Spring

day.

They sometimes stare

at me

in private

contemplation.

They are the reflection of

your soul

and I plumb their depths

as I listen to their

conversation.

Say What?!

When I came to my blog last nite I 'bout freaked out when I saw the books listed on my "Library Thing" in the sidebar. All these books are listed as being written by "dread pirates"??? Did some lunatic hacker/spammer figure out how to get into my blog? WHAT is going on here? So I clicked on Library Thing and the whole home page of it was in pirate-speak. To honor National Pirate Day or Love a Pirate Day or some-such nonsense. Good grief. And, to my knowledge, I wasn't notified this was going to happen, unless an email was inadvertently sent to my spam or something. But it almost gave me a needless trip to the Emergency Room for temporary heart failure. I am going to fire off an email to them and tell them:

"THAT WAS NOT FUNNY!"

So, I left it untouched at the moment so you can notice what I mean. I guess I'll have to go to the site and redo all of my book list. What a pain and a waste of time for someone who has to squeak in any time on the computer as it is.

I know, I know....whine, whine, whine.

Whatever.

But they BETTER not TOUCH it AGAIN!!!!!

All I'm askin' for is a little respect....

Outside of a Creative Writing course that I took for a semester in my Senior year of high school and a Modern Poetry class I took the next semester, both taught by the same teacher, Ms. Hartley, I have never taken any writing lessons of any sort. Can you tell? I rattle and ramble. I create my own sentence structures. I start sentences with "And..." and "But...." I write like I think, not by what grammar rules or writing instructors tell me is correct. Am I a writer? I like to think I am. There are many here who feel the same way.

As Twitter and Facebook and other social networking sites attract more and more traffic I've noticed how blog posting has begun taking a back seat, riding shotgun. Kind of quietly sitting there biding its time while Twitter and Facebook are sitting up front chatting and schmoozing in their mostly inane way. Conversation is fast and furious up front. Blogging, meanwhile, gazes out the window, listening to Twitter and Facebook with half an ear. Blogging knows fads come and go. And it rests on the knowledge that it is not a fad. It knows that its popularity may wax and wane. It knows Facebook and Twitter and others named Bebo and MySpace will show up on the scene with all kinds of glitz and glory that will titillate the sensibilities of the public. But pretty soon they'll be overtaken by some other new, fresh contender and their popularity will begin to decline.

But blogging? Well, blogging is here to stay, I believe. It has much more to offer than a place to read that this celebrity is going off to have lunch with a publicist. Or that celebrity thinks Orange Crush is the greatest soda ever created. Or people who purchase 'Friends' so it looks like their site is popular with thousands. I mean, who has 10,439 friends?! Most of us are lucky to have 2 or 3 good ones. Blogging, in the general sense for most of us, is a place where life is lived. Where others come to read what a blogger has to say. It doesn't matter if it's silly or stupid or grumpy or whiny. It shows real people living real lives, people who are willing to let the rest of the world come in and see who an ordinary person is. How they think. How they feel. How they function on good days or bad. How they deal with tragedy or joy. Unless you put your real name out there for the world to see, most readers don't have a clue who you are. That's a very liberating element right there and I think it also helps to keep us bloggers real. If we don't have to worry about what people think of us because they don't even know who we are, we don't have to pretend to be any one but who we are. I do believe that bloggers are some of the most genuine people out there.

Journalists can say what they want about us. I don't care. I'm thick-skinned. I've been judged because I'm not "educated". Well, so what? A degree makes you a purist? A degree makes you good and professional? Maybe it does. I don't know, since I've never had one. But I will tell you who my best teacher has been. It's Life. And it has taught me so many more important lessons than any text book ever has. And that is what I write about. I've lived it and I've learned from it. It has a vast classroom that's never filled up, at least until the very end. And I believe even the last lesson learned will be the most awe inspiring of all.

Let this sing you to sleep...it's beautiful

It's too hot.....

Since being weaned off hormones I can relate to this. I'm waking up 2-4 times per nite drenched in sweat...even dripping off my nose! HELP!!!! Does anyone have any natural products they're taking that help? I just ordered something called Menoquil that came highly recommended...anyone using that? This is the pits.

So we never forget.....

Please take a moment and go here. This is a blog project to pay tribute to the victims of 9/11.

One thing I told myself I was going to do this week was to go thru the grandboys' toy bins and purge out all the ones they no longer play with. As I sat on the floor doing exactly that this afternoon I was amazed at how many of them the boys have already outgrown. With having an older brother to hero worship and tag after, Cooper pretty much bypassed playing with infant toys, outside of a plush bear rattle and a plush elephant with ears that crackled every time he'd rubbed on them. The many little figurines, Disney toys, and cloth books that Dylan had played with have been ignored. I kept a few stuffed toys but, beyond those, what I kept were the trucks and cars, the 'big digs' and numerous fire engines, the garbage truck, hard hats, tools, and Fisher Price buildings the boys seem to prefer over everything else. I do have a basket tucked under the table their gas station sits on, still filled with all the WWF wrestling figurines their dad loved to play with when he was a boy. It remains to be seen if they'll like those, too. Since my son and daughter loved being read to and loved listening to music a lot of the time I thought for sure Dylan and Cooper would too but, outside of a blue grass CD that Dear Hubby has with the song "Looking for a City" on it that the boys love to listen to over...and over...and over again...and march around the living room and dining room while they're listening to it...neither one seems to be much interested in books or music. My loss, since I adored reading to my kids and enjoyed their music albums and cassette tapes as much as they did. Oh well...they're only 17 months and 3 1/2 so maybe there's still hope yet.

So now I have two big garbage bags all tied up and out on the front porch, ready to go to the Goodwill tomorrow.

Shakespeare really knew what he was saying when he wrote, "Parting is such sweet sorrow!"

It's goodbye to just another little phase of their babyhood...but it's gone now forever.

Arggghhhhhh.

It kills me.

What can I say?

Another very good book read today.

Please go check it out here.

And isn't this what blogging is all about?

Dear Hubby's Dream

I just got off the phone with Dear Hubby.

I called to let him know I was able to get his glasses repaired today.

As we were getting ready to hang up he called out,

"Wait a minute! I've got to tell you the dream I had last nite!"

"Oh yeah?" I asked, "What was it?"

"I dreamt I was a country western star,"

he told me,

"And guess what song I was singing?"

I told him I didn't have a clue.

And then he began laughing so hard he could hardly get it out:
"I Was Country When Country Wasn't Cool!"

Oh mercy.

What is in a name?

Part of my email address is "krazymisskris". Part of my blog URL is "MissyKrissy" just because "MissKris" had already been taken when I first came on to Blogger. So let me tell you the history of my names.

When I was a teenager and I had a lot of crazy stuff going on in my head -- tho I didn't necessarily verbalize it to the outside world -- I used to sign letters to friends as "Krazy Kris". I'm sure my best friend Lizzee can remember that, as she's been walking along Life's path with me since we were 13/14 years old. I felt crazy, even if I didn't act crazy. I had a lot I was dealing with in my personal life, and as a young teenager I wasn't emotionally equipped to deal with a lot of it. But I learned. Fast. To survive.

As for "Miss Kris"....when I first began working for the Portland schools as a lunch lady several years ago a former co-worker who's become a very dear friend of mine gave me the nickname "Miss Kris". Which the little elementary kids I was working with at the time quickly dubbed me with, too. In fact, last time I got together with Ivona she told me some of them that she comes across -- now in their late teens and 20s -- still ask her how "Miss Kris" is doing and if she's seen me lately. To please tell me hi.

And then, on to middle school, another co-worker dubbed me with "Krissy", which is what the thousands of middle schoolers who crossed my path called me as well. As did all the adult staff. In fact one summer, when I was on Grand Jury duty and had gone to Pioneer Place on my lunch hour, I heard someone shout out "Krissy!!" and turned to find a big tableful of 'my' kids waving and shouting at me to get my attention.

And then, when I first came on the computer and was looking for email pen pals I stumbled across an international pen pal site that also had a chat room in it. I'd never done chat before but my daughter showed me the ropes and I very tentatively began 'talking' on there, hardly able to keep up with the conversation in the beginning. There were some very lovely adult friends I met on there but I fast became friends with a lot of teenagers from all over the world. And they dubbed me as "Ma" as well as "MissKris" on there. In fact, today in my email I got a note from one of them, a lovely young woman from the UK who is now, I believe, 24. And she and I became acquainted when she was just turning 15, I think it was. To think the two of us still keep in contact, even tho I'm a silver-haired granny and she's just finished university and is launching out into the world!

And that is how I've become "krazymisskris/MissKris/Krissy". I'll answer to them all.

Another good read.....

Oh. My. Word.

Cassandra King's book, "Same Sweet Girls" , has to be one of the best books about women's friendships I've read in a long, long time. She could've left the "F" word out and it would've been perfect...I DETEST the "F" word in books...but I ignored it and just went with the story which was soooooooooo good. Is there a 'real' book out there without some kind of profanity in it?! Why do writers feel they need to use it? I find Christian novels too preachy and self-righteous...too "If you don't believe like I do then YOU'RE wrong!!"...and I don't care for them at all. Even tho I'm a Christian. So I suck it up and go with regular fiction for the most part. Unless it's too profane. I'm not preaching to the choir...I'm just stating my own personal like. How do the rest of you readers out there who read my blog feel about it?? Will too much turn you off the book? Do you overlook it or ignore it? I'd really like to know.

Potpourri

I've had one of those weird-eating days. Hotdogs on buns for lunch after church. Then our neighbors Sharon and Alex brought over some fresh tomatoes and cuccumbers just picked from their garden and I made a couple pieces of toast with butter and freshly-sliced tomatoes on them. Now I'm munching on one of my favorite comfort foods...graham crackers with a big glass of cold milk. Not that I need comfort food at the moment. I also like them because they don't get my fingers sticky or greasy while I'm typing. I know a lot of people like s'mores, something I never acquired a taste for when I could taste. Instead, I preferred an after-school snack my mom would make every now and then, graham crackers spread with chocolate or vanilla frosting. My brothers and I would have those gobbled down in nothing flat.

Why is it younger people have such a hard time imagining us older folks being young once ourselves? A very nice young couple moved into a house down the street and earlier this week as the grandboys and I were passing by I noticed a couple of big rabbits tethered to a small stake in their front yard. As the boys and I stood on the sidewalk admiring them, the young man came outside and told us to come on over and pet them if the boys wanted to, that they're very sweet-natured and gentle. Fleming rabbits, I think he called them. Of course, the boys were enthralled with them. A day or two later we passed by again and this time the young woman came out and introduced herself. I told her I hadn't asked Courtney, the young man, what the rabbits names were and she said, "Little Girl and T-Rex." As I scratched T-Rex behind the ears I told him, "I used to love a band with the same name you have, T-Rex, a million years ago!" I had an album of theirs with a song I loved on it called "Bang a Gong". Of all the silly titles in the world. I don't know which amazed her more, that I was carrying on a conversation with her rabbit or if I'd ever been a rock 'n' roll fan. HA! If she only knew the rest of my younger-years history! How I was the ultimate sneak in pulling the wool over everyone's eyes, how no one knew the real me, how I'd spent my teen years being the good little perfect daughter during the week, then into all kinds of satanic stuff on the weekends. Oh, I was a wild child, all right. No one will ever know the half of it.

Isn't it amazing, the amount of verbal abuse you hear out there when you go to the store or walk along the streets, the horrible things parents say to their children? I've had self-image problems all my life because of the things said to me by my father and my brothers. As my mother and I worked our way thru a lot of things that needed to be resolved before she died, one thing she told me is she wished she'd stepped in and stopped a lot of it when she heard it. She never did, tho. It would've saved me a lot of grief but you can't go back and redo things, can you? What's done in our childhood is done. But you can be gracious and forgive when forgiveness is asked. It is amazing how liberating that is, to let go of pain and resentments and get on with life. I overheard once a conversation between my mom and one of her friends, talking about me when I was 10 or 11, a very awkward time in my life. I didn't catch the comment my mom made but her friend spoke up and said, "Oh, Kristine may be an ugly duckling right now but one of these days she's going to grow into a swan." All I heard was the "ugly duckling" and it broke my heart. It made me feel ugly. For years. Dear Hubby had things said to him as he grew up, too, and when we got married and talked about having kids one thing we agreed on was we would never ever NEVER belittle or put our children down. We never did. The cycles of abuse can be broken, whether it's verbal, physical, sexual...all it takes is the resolve to do so. As to turning in to a swan? Well, I'll never think of myself as beautiful but I look in the mirror and I don't look too bad. Dear Hubby thinks I'm beautiful and as long as he does...well, that's all that matters.

I took a nap this afternoon, something I don't do very often, but I've been so, so sleepy this weekend. I guess I hadn't realized how physically tired I've become. As I lay there on the couch and was drifting off to sleep I suddenly startled awake with the thought, "Now, this would be the perfect time for Dad to show up, unannounced, while Dear Hubby and I nap." And that really threw me off, because I remembered my Dad's been gone over 3 years now. It's like I'd forgotten that for a moment, and it was like losing him all over again when my mind cleared and I knew I'd been half-dreaming. The mind is a strange thing.

Dear Hubby asked what I have on my agenda for tomorrow and I told him, "Absolutely nothing!" Outside of sleeping in a bit, that is. So he asked if I'd be interested in riding out to the archery range with him and I said sure, I'd love to. I'll take along my books and kick back and relax out there. He also asked me if we could work a date nite into my week off, something we haven't done in forever, our weeks are so full and our hours so early as far as going to bed and getting up are concerned. We're going to go out for chinese food and actually sit in a restaurant and enjoy it. I still might go to a matinee of "Julia & Juliet" by myself. I like going to movies by myself tho I rarely do. The last time I went to a movie was when I went and saw "The Queen" with Helen Mirren. Before that, I can't even remember what I last saw. But there's something very peaceful about watching a movie alone in the dark.

And so my vacation moves along. And so my mind wanders tonite.......

Sunday Silly...

Thoughts I don't care to dwell on....

ANOTHER blog entry!! What's the world coming to?!

I had a new commenter on my blog yesterday, a lady named Agneta from Sweden, and when I first went to her blog to thank her for stopping by and leaving a comment I found, much to my language-limited dismay, it's in Swedish. I mean, DUH! What was I thinking?! But, to my joy, there was a linky thing on her page to translate it into a language the reader can understand...yessssssss! So I clicked on it and within seconds it was in English! My paternal grandfather was born in Karlstad, Sweden, so on my dad's side of the family I'm only second-generation American. On my mom's side...well, we've been around a long time. There is a statue of one of my ancestors in Boscawen, New Hampshire, named Hannah Dustin. This is sooooooooooo disrespectful on my part, but every time I see the Spongebob Squarepants episode where Spongebob passes by a statue and says something like, "I wonder whose poop-covered ancestor you are," I think of Hannah Dustin. I mean, really...isn't that the truth? Tho actually, in this photo, she doesn't look so bad. How many of us ever pay attention to statues we pass by during our regular daily routine? When I was a grand juror for a month several years ago and rode the bus downtown to the court house every day I passed by at least one...maybe two? That just shows you how much attention I paid to them!

Today I slept in until 7:50. Today I ate two cinnamon bagels with my coffee, sitting on the couch with the windows open, listening to the first substantial rain that's fallen in the past couple of months, breathing in the sweet, clean air. I am soaking in the quiet like a parched sponge. And why am I doing all this, you ask? BECAUSE I CAN!

I. AM. ON. VACATION. !!!!

Was this day ever going to end?!

I had serious doubts.

It stretched out to 12 hours, due to wrecks on the freeway which lengthened commutes for my son and daughter-in-law who had plans to rendevouz here after work and then take the grandboys to a Beavers baseball game this evening. Now, I give them kudos for even trying that tonite, considering the only nap taken by either one of them was by Cooper around 9 am for 45 minutes. So...from the time they arrived at 5:30 this morning and by the time they left at 5:30 this evening...well, let's just say it was one long, long day. For all three of us. It's now just past 7 pm and I didn't even do the dishes. I am sitting here in my nightshirt, listening to my Discman, and I am r-e-l-a-x-i-n-g. Really relaxing. Dear Hubby just went to bed...he has plans with a friend tomorrow very early...a guy-thing kind of day. I should go to bed too but I want to savor these first few hours of vacation. No alarm going off at 3:15 for me, thank you very much! I can't seem to sleep in past 6 or so in the morning when I have time off but even that is 3 hours more than I usually get. And I checked the library website this evening and I have 4 books ready to pick up tomorrow morning....whoooooooooeeeeeeeeeee!

When you type on your blog, do you think you sound just like you do when talking? Is it the same 'voice'? I'm fortunate to be a very fast typist so I don't have much trouble keeping up with my thoughts as they come... so yes, I think I sound just like I do when talking. When I talk, that is. In a recent email to someone I said that in 'real life' I'm not much of a conversationalist. It's thru the written word where I do my 'talking'. Several years ago I had a friend named Lynette who was one of the quietest people I've ever known. She never had a whole lot to say but, boy, was she a marvelous listener! Sometimes she felt bad about not saying much but she told me her mother had said to her once, "Lynette, there's nothing wrong with being a quiet person. Most people love to hear themselves talk. What the world needs is more listeners like you." Have you ever read the book "Small Sacrifices" by Ann Rule? It tells the story of an Oregon woman named Diane Downs who tried to murder her three children, succeeding in killing one and seriously injuring the other two. It was made into a movie starring Farrah Fawcett who did an outstanding job. Diane Downs is a serious sociopath and I have never forgotten one line in the book concerning how she talks. I believe it was one of the law officers who originally interrogated her who said that listening to her talk was like listening to verbal vomit...the words just poured out of her nonstop. I know a few people like that myself. I avoid them like the plague. At this stage in life I don't have the time and I definitely don't have the patience for it. Sometimes I am such a bad person, aren't I? I never used to be selfish to this point with the few moments of time I have alone. I'm not talking about my solitary alone time...I'm talking about running in to someone I know and skedaddling down another aisle in the grocery store, hoping I make my escape before they spot me. I hate grocery shopping enough as it is without getting cornered by someone who won't let me go. I know one woman who will literally back me against a wall to keep my attention. It almost gives me a claustrophic panicky-attack feeling. I can't wait to make my getaway!

And I am seriously, seriously getting totally fed up with the bicyclists in this city who insist on riding on the sidewalks!! If they had any clue how hard it is to navigate a double stroller in the best of times, maybe they'd be a little more considerate instead of expecting me to give them the right-of-way. And barrelling past me from behind without even letting me know they're approaching. It's against the LAW, you inconsiderate nincompoops! Argggghhhhh! All I need to do is misstep once and I could be seriously injured, especially when they go whizzing by. Or if one of the boys leans out to the side to look back at me to say something, they could run into them and break their necks.

Ok...maybe I should go to bed. I'm tired. I'm irritable. I don't have anything nice to say about much of anything tonite. Oh, except to mention a young man who did something so unexpectedly nice today while the boys and I were out walking. He lives next door to the library branch I frequent. He and his wife have chickens and a beautiful garden. They've both noticed the boys and I stopping at the end of their driveway to peer down it into the back yard to see the chickens and had told us we're welcome to go to the fence and watch them whenever we like. As we walked past today the young man called out to me and came over with his hands full of chicken eggs and some ripe green tomatoes whose name I've forgotten. He said, "I was hoping you'd come by today so I could give you these!" And I don't even really know him. Random acts of kindness like that always warm my heart to the point of melting, you know?

Thoughtfulness....

I read a short email from one of my long time bloggy friends this morning that certainly started my day off on a bright note. She told me, "Every day, I wish we were neighbors." If only she knew how many times I've thought the same thing!

And yesterday I received an email from a newer bloggy friend who sent me a list of 10 book recommendations for my vacation next week. How thoughtful was that!

Thank you, Judy and Pam!

"Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see."

~ Mark Twain ~

Heirlooms

Heirlooms are funny things, aren't they? I remember when my mother died 20 years ago, how I surrounded myself with her things. And then, as time went on, I slowly purged them until I have a favorite few and the rest were either given away to charity or handed over to my kids. There were very few of those, the ones given to them. Or should I say wanted and kept by them? My daughter is somewhat sentimental but my son? Fuhgeddabout it! He's been married and in his own home for 6 years now and we still have his big collection of moldering baseball cards in boxes on shelves in the basement. They'll probably stay there until Dear Hubby and I die and then find their way in to some recycling bin.

What makes a person sentimental? I think I'm more of a practical sentimentalist. My 'keepsakes' are more of the mental variety...treasured visual memories stuck in various nooks and crannies of my brain. Maybe it's because I'm the caretaker of the home, but 'stuff' just gets to me after a while, especially living in the small bungalow house that we have. Thank the good Lord we have a basement. If not, we'd probably be on "Clean House" or some other organizational show, prime candidates for digging us out of all the clutter we've accumulated in 35 years together. I try to keep a good portion of what's stored in the basement in some kind of order but Dear Hubby's stuff is just...everywhere. Sigh....... And, to keep peace, I've learned to just let it lay because in its chaos there is some kind of order; he knows where everything is and if I upset his 'system' I throw it completely out of whack. I've also learned not to purge any of his stuff. Just because I'm not very sentimental doesn't mean that he isn't. One thing marriage is, if you want to stay together for any length of time, is learning to compromise. There are far greater issues that come along to work thru so it's pretty silly to sweat over the little things. Besides, unless I go down there, it's all out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, don'tcha know.

I do have my paternal great-grandmother's wedding ring. It's been stored away in a safe deposit box for 20 years. I don't wear jewelry. It's too small for my daughter's hands. I have my husband's paternal grandmother's collection of fine bone china teacups and saucers, some so fragile you can practically see thru them. They're sitting in my china closet collecting dust.

Like they say on those shows, it's the memory that's pricless. Unless we lose our marbles as we go along, we'll always have that with us. I guess I'm more content with that than spending my life shuffling dust around. I'm a strange person, I am. And I'm the first to admit it.

I thought being greeted by this might start out your reading experience here today on a high note! I don't remember how I got this or when it arrived but I loved it enough to stick it in my files and just stumbled across it again this morning. I guess I should go thru my files more often, eh? I dunno half the stuff I've got tucked away, I'm sure.

Well, thank you all for the good wishes concerning my upcoming vacation! My daughter has been after me to take a few days to go off by myself somewhere...no interruptions, peace and solitude. Only trouble is, I don't do all that much driving any more except for grocery shopping and errands around the city -- and even those are few and far between since I began caring for the grandboys. It used to be, since I worked part time in those days, that everyone seemed to depend on me to get oil changed in vehicles, pick up this, take away that. My eyesight isn't all that great as time goes on, either, especially if I get caught in any of our monsoon downpours. I guess at this time of year I don't really have that to worry about since we're in the midst of one of the driest and hottest summers we've had in years. But anyway...

So I'll just stay around here. I'll have at least 8 hours of solitude here at home during the work day. I've always loved my 'alone' time but I have so little of it now I get almost giddy thinking about it. I have a ton of books on hold at the library so I'm hoping at least a few of them will arrive this week so I have something new to read. Lately I've been doing some re-reading of old favorites since I've been having a lot of difficulty finding anything worth reading in the newly published books out on the market. My daughter is really into 'urban fantasy', I think she calls it. And vampire books? For some reason neither one of those even begin to appeal to me. But she doesn't necessarily like what I read. Every now and then we stumble across books we both love, tho:

"To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee
"Ride the Wind" by Lucia St. Clair Robson
"Years" by LaVyrle Spencer
"Shutter Island" by Dennis Lehane

There are more but at 4:20 in the morning I'm not thinking too clearly. She has stacks and stacks and stacks of books in her bedroom. Just think what a treasure trove that'd be for me if we only shared the same taste! How depressing!