The years teach much which the days never knew. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I am literally in love. With 14 of the cutest little moppets in the world...my grandson Dylan's preschool classmates. I wrote earlier that even tho Dylan and Cooper stayed home sick with mom and dad I still needed to fulfill my volunteering obligation within his classroom. When they found out Dylan was sick and I came anyway they could hardly believe it but I was raised to be a person of my word. If I say I'm going to be somewhere or do something, I'm there, I'm doing it.

It was a morning of endless entertainment. Of wiggly, giggly nonsense. It is so refreshing spending time with 14 little people whose innocence and unskewered way of observing life around them reminds me as an adult of how deeply enmeshed we become with the cares of daily survival as we age. Dear Hubby and I went out to dinner yesterday and as I told him my thoughts he said he believes Adam and Eve were probably the same way before Eve ate the apple, filled with that childlike wonder as they wandered thru the Garden and talked with God. It was that first bite that ruined it for them. Can any of us look back and remember that moment of the loss of innocence in our own lives? When we began to realize the world can be a pretty harsh place at times?

I've taken two of the more timid ones under my wing, Ruby and James. Ruby is Dylan's friend. He must see in her what I see, someone who needs a guardian angel. She's tiny and soft-spoken and fades in to the background. Dylan is so tall...47" at age 4...that he towers over the rest of the children. But he's a gentle giant, and he senses the vulnerability in others and reacts to it. James is a sweet-tempered little guy who is afraid to assert himself, hanging back instead of taking his turn when it should rightfully be his. Costa, Leo, James and I were playing with a set of tubes that make all kinds of tracks and obstacles for marbles to pass down when they're put together. James and I were the ones constructing it when Costa and Leo noticed what we were doing and came over and asked if they could play, too. I told them certainly they could, but to let James finish building the course...I told them he was a master builder and he was doing an amazing job! When the tower was finished, each boy grabbed some marbles and began sending them down the shutes. When the marbles came to the bottom cup, Leo and Costa reached in and grabbed them all, yelling, "My turn! My turn!" And James sat back on his haunches and watched without saying a word. As Leo and Costa stood up to send the marbles on their way again I said, "Hold on a sec, guys!" They both paused and looked at me. I said, "Let's count and see how many marbles you have in your hands." They both opened up their fists and I counted Leo's: 5. Then I counted Costa's: 4. I said, "Let's have James open his hand and count his marbles!" So they leaned over James. He opened his hand: empty. "Ok, now. James doesn't have any. How about you each give him one or two so he can play, too?" A moment of thoughtful deliberation, the little cogs turning in each head as they gazed at their marbles. Leo reacted first, then Costa, each giving him some of their marbles. And the smile James gave me as I told him, "Ok, James, since you built the tower it's only fair you go first this time" was payment enough for being there.

Later, James and Ava and I were playing in the kitchen area. There were little pots and pans, plastic dishes, and baskets full of plastic food items...meats and fruits, vegetables and bread. Desserts. We decided we were going to make chicken vegetable soup and barbecue so I'd hold up each food item and ask, "Does this go in soup?" or "Is this for the salad?" "Would we eat this at a barbecue?" Pretty soon we had a crowd around us again and everyone was figuring out what went where. Then we pretend-ate everything. Costa was there, too, and he handed me a cup and told me, "Here's your beer!" Uh-oh...not too appropriate, so I said, "How about root beer, Costa?" He shook his head and told me, "Whenever we have a barbecue we have lots of beer. I get to drink this much!" and he held up his fingers and measured a fraction of an inch with his thumb and forefinger. My parents used to do the same thing when I was little...they'd have a beer whenever they played cribbage and would let my brothers and me have a sip, so what could I say? I didn't make a big issue about it, just distracted him with a plastic ice cream cone. But hopefully he doesn't say that to anyone else...the world is a much different place than it was 50-odd years ago. Some other parent there might report his parents. Costa doesn't know what's right or wrong. He can't help it if his parents don't have much sense.

I enjoy watching Dylan when I'm volunteering there but it was also nice interacting without him, getting to really focus on all the other kids. I will never ever understand how adults don't find little children fascinating. I don't count it as drudge time. Usually it ends up being a learning time for me.

Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain. ~ J.K. Rowling

This time around it lasted about 36 hours. Dead internet. I don't know if it's because we live in such an old neighborhood where utility line upon utility line upon utility line criss-cross our sky and are in constant need of repair and/or updating but it doesn't take much to disrupt our DSL internet service. Lots of soggy rain and wind? Adios. Extremely hot weather? Ditto. We've learned to live with it but, oh! Technology can be so frustrating! I haven't been in the mood to write the past couple of days anyway so it really didn't bother me too much that I was 'disconnected' but poor Dylan couldn't play his games and must've asked me a dozen times or more yesterday, "Is the 'puter fixed yet, Gram?" He'll be delighted to find it up and running this morning when he arrives a little later.

I have to do one of my volunteer stints at Dylan's preschool today. I'll be going by myself because both boys have got bad colds. Their mom who is recuperating from surgery and almost ready to go back to work will come stay with them for the 3 hours I'll be gone. The preschool is very stringent about being there when it's your turn to volunteer...you have to find your own back-up if you happen to be sick yourself or can't come because of some other reason. And it has to be someone who's passed their security background check. So...that leaves no one but me in our family. Because I'm the only stay-at-home Grandma who volunteers there I'm kind of like a fish out of water and haven't befriended any of the young moms. I leave all the social clique-i-ness to the younger girls...been there, done that already in the past and have no desire to 'make friends'. Be friendly, yes. Well...I'll take that back. There is one young mom who's very nice but very shy who seems to kind of hang back on the fringe and once the boys are feeling better I'm going to invite her and her two young boys over for a morning play date on one of the preschool's 'off' days. Now, she is worth getting to know. She reminds me of me, on the outside looking in. Funny how age and perspective changes all that as we get older, isn't it? But back then when my two children were little I couldn't push myself into center stage, either. It makes me more empathetic for those I observe now, tho...the quiet ones on the sidelines. I know how they feel.

I have 23 episodes of "House Hunters" saved on the DVR. I think I'll go watch a few.

Good Monday Morning!

My dear friend Kathie in Perth, Australia, sent this to me the other day. Hope it gives you your first chuckle of the week, too..........

MALE & FEMALE

You might not have known this, but a lot of non-living objects are actually either male or female. Here are some examples:

FREEZER BAGS: They are male, because they hold everything in, but you can see right through them.

PHOTOCOPIERS: These are female, because once turned off, it takes a while to warm them up again.They are an effective reproductive device if the right buttons are pushed, but can also wreak havoc if you push the wrong buttons.

TYRES: Tyres are male, because they go bald easily and are often over inflated.

HOT AIR BALLOONS: Also a male object, because to get them to go anywhere, you have to light a fire under them. Then of course, there's the hot air factor.

SPONGES: These are female, because they are soft, squeezable and retain water.

WEB PAGES: Female, because they're constantly being looked at and frequently getting hit on.

TRAINS: Definitely male, because they always use the same old lines for picking up people.

EGG TIMERS: Egg timers are female because, over time, all the weight shifts to the bottom.

HAMMERS: Male, because in the last 5000 years, they've hardly changed at all, and are occasionally handy to have around.

THE REMOTE CONTROL: Female. Ha! You probably thought it would be male, but consider this: It easily gives a man pleasure, he'd be lost without it, and while he doesn't always know which buttons to push, he just keeps trying.

Be not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be. ~ Thomas à Kempis

Photo by DesignMD

What was your relationship with your mother like, if you are a daughter? That's a loaded bomb waiting to go off, isn't it? For some of us anyway. For me.

I lost my mom when I was 35. She's been gone for 21 years now. I'm not one of those women who wallpapers her walls or any other surfaces with family photos. I have one of Dylan on display. One of Cooper. A portrait photo of my maternal great-grandmother at the age of 18 on her high school graduation day in 1898 or thereabouts. A large photo of my kids taken when they were around kindergarten age, others of them around graduation. One of Dear Hubby. That's it.

So...if I need to remind myself what my mother looked like I go to an elaborate antique cigar box that belonged to my maternal great-grandfather. I have many snapshots and old family obituaries that date back to one of my great-great-grandfathers, and I rummage around in it until I find a photo taken of both my parents. It was taken not long before she died. She is sitting on my father's lap and actually has a half-smile on her face. I can't tell you how rare that was, to see her with a smile. To see her having any physical contact with my father. If I need to remember how she sounded I dig out an old VCR tape of a family Christmas in 1987, I believe it was. When she was ill with cancer but not terminal yet. I hear her cackling laugh. My daughter has inherited that, and her tendency to talk to the television.

And if I need to remind myself of who she was...well, I'm at a bit of a loss there. I have my memories of who I thought she was but, the older I get, the more distorted those memories seem to be. I don't really think she was the woman I remember her as. As much as she talked, talked, talked to me...I don't think she ever revealed her real self. So much of her is a mystery to me and, regrettably, will remain so. So much of what she did reveal to me...well, I don't know how accurate a lot of it was. A few years ago a cousin of hers who grew up with her came out from New Hampshire to visit and on a day when Ginger and I spent several hours together I asked her to tell me what my mom was like as a young woman, as a girl. Ginger told me as much as she could but I think I went away feeling even more confused than I'd been before. Some of the family history she told me wasn't quite like the history my mom passed on to us. I don't think my brothers ever cared one way or another but maybe because I'm the only female in our family I wanted a more tangible grasp of who our mom was. But she'll forever be an enigma to me. A swirly vapor. A breeze that lifts the hair on the back of my neck. A smoky haze hovering just over the edge of the horizon.

My younger brother and I spent a day together during my vacation week and we did a lot of talking about a lot of things. We both know she made the comment she would've had a happier marriage if she'd never had children. We both know she was emotionally frozen. That she had no idea how to reach out to people and when people reached out to her she'd deliberately sabotage any friendly overtures. She was bitter. She was mad at the world. Nothing made her happy.

And yet...rare moments...she could be funny. She had a razor-sharp mind. She was hard-working, dedicated. I know she meant well. I knew she was lonely...but I couldn't fill her empty voids. And she resented that. Deeply. She wanted me to herself and she didn't want to share me with my husband, my children. And the less she had of me as I grew older, the more she wanted. I loved her, but I resented her, too. I wanted to be free of the web, what I considered the millstone around my neck. I wanted freedom to live my life.

These are wise words: "Be careful what you wish for".

Sometimes you get it.

My mother and I made peace with each other before she died. She told me many times, "I wish I could go back and do it over again when it comes to you". I told her it was water under the bridge, that I survived. That I loved her.

And here I am, a motherless daughter. For a long time now. And sometimes, as I think of her now and then, I realize maybe I know her better than I thought I did. Maybe, as a more mature woman, I understand her better now. That the water under the bridge has taken me over all kinds of rips and rills and free-falls and boulders along the way. I have a lot more of Life tucked into my belt now. I am less mystified. I am more forgiving.

She was who she was. I am who I am. And I am my mother's daughter.

Birthdays...yesterday and today...

Could it possibly be? 34 years ago yesterday I gave birth to my daughter. 32 years ago today I gave birth to my son. In this photo they're the same ages as my grandsons are now, 2 and 4.


I remember spending the day with my Mom on my oldest brother's 40th birthday. All day long she kept saying, "I can't believe I'm the mother of a 40-year-old son!"


I know exactly how she felt.

A daughter is a gift of love. ~ Author Unknown

September days on the Oregon coast

don't get much prettier than this.

Balmy.

Shades of pewter on a silver sea.

Too bad it isn't me enjoying it.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

Few delights can equal the mere presence of one whom we trust utterly. ~ George MacDonald

My neighbor Sharon's daughter takes in foster children and does an amazing job caring for them. I've mentioned before that my parents were very early Foster Parents, dating back to when I was a little girl in the 1950's. I can't remember how many children passed thru our home in the 8 years or so that they opened our home to abused and neglected kids. Some were with us only overnite. The longest, two little sisters, lived with us for a year.

On Saturday Sharon was taking care of two of the youngest foster children while her daughter took some of the older ones to soccer. As Sharon was loading the little ones into her car to take them to the soccer park later in the morning I happened to be outside so I went over to help her while she backed the car out of her driveway. I was drawn to one of the boys right away. Such sad eyes. Long curls. I bent down to him and asked him, "How old are you, Romeo?" and he just gazed at me. Sharon told me he's a mute. Oh my. What trauma has that sweet little soul experienced so far in life where he won't...or can't...talk. I reached out my hand to him and said, "That's ok, Romeo. I'm a grandma and I'm nice. You can hold my hand." He gazed at me for another moment. Then...a little hand creeped forward...and grabbed hold of mine.

Utter heartbreak, I'm telling you.

Whoever said money can't buy happiness simply didn't know where to go shopping. ~ Bo Derek

4-year-old Dylan is becoming a computer whiz. I have two of his favorite sites on my Favorites bar for him -- the PBS Games and Disney Pixar Cars from the "Cars" movie that has pictures and names of all the "Cars" characters. He has most of them memorized. He also wants all of them for Christmas. I have found a wonderful way to keep him occupied, adding and subtracting cars to his Christmas List. I showed him how to add cars to his 'cart' and how to remove them, then how to back-arrow to the main page so he can browse some more. Yesterday his list was up to $1,779. Today, as I closed down the site after he left for home, it was down to $1,278. What a shopper! Good thing I haven't shown him how to use my debit card.

And, no....he isn't getting every "Car" for Christmas. Fat chance.

We're captive on the carousel of time; we can't return we can only look behind. ~ Joni Mitchell

Last week I was on vacation and one of the things I did, besides the mundane chores of painting the front porch steps and sorting/donating a bunch of stuff cluttering the basement, I spent a day with my younger brother. He took me out to lunch at a Mexican restaurant in downtown Vancouver and on the way back to his home we decided to take a drive thru our old neighborhood. To our surprise, 'our' house was up for sale, with an information box with flyers inside tacked on to the "For Sale" post. If anyone was home they'd had no idea who we were so I jumped out of my brother's Aston Martin -- a waaaaaaaaaaaaay cool car, by the way -- to grab a flyer. Since the time period we both lived there, in the late 1960s-1970s, a whole lot of remodeling has gone on and even tho the basic floor plan is the same it doesn't look anything like it did when we were teens. It's gorgeous. The windows to the right of the front door belong to what used to be my bedroom. It's since been converted to a home office with beautiful French doors. The upstairs, which used to be an unfinished attic, is now a huge master bedroom suite with a sitting area in the front gable. The kitchen is to die for. Sigh......if only my parents had been blessed with the money to update it! When they bought it in 1968 they paid something like $11,900 for it. Today it is selling for $239,900. Whoa. One thing it has going for it is it's located in a neighborhood near downtown that is being revitalized, with lots of old bungalow and tudor and Craftsmen homes that have been purchased and revamped. As beautiful as it is I wouldn't want to live there again. Too many bad memories. I suppose you can go home again, but it isn't always a wise choice to do so.

You haven't experienced real life until you've volunteered in a preschool with 15 rambunctious, energetic, inquisitive, precocious, adorable 4-year-olds. What a hoot! Cooper and I spent the morning yesterday with Dylan and his classmates and I can't remember the last time 3 hours have passed so quickly. We played out on the playground, danced/wiggled/jiggled to music, played "What's Your Name" as we tossed a beanbag around the circle, had snack time, craft time, play time, story time. I took blocks and built a huge roadway for the little boys to drive their cars and trucks on. I played doll house with Ava. Ezra and Sumalee followed me around like shadows. I helped several go potty. I didn't have time to feel like the 'odd man out' being the only Grandma there amongst 3 younger mothers...I was too busy! Tho I did have a nice conversation during story time with one of the mothers as she and I swept up the sand around the sand table. I told her what a wonderful experience it is for both Dylan and Cooper to have this exposure to other kids because with being a stay-at-home Grandma I don't really have a network of friends with little ones to spend time with. She told me that she doesn't, either, and with her little boy James heading off for kindergarten next year she was becoming very concerned about him being too isolated. So many mothers work now. Besides James she also has a little one who is Cooper's age...so maybe on one of their 'off' days from school I'll invite her over so the four of them can play together.

One thing I love about each new generation of kids starting school is to take note of the names. When I was a girl it seemed like every other girl was named Debbie or Susan. When my daughter was in school it was Jennifer and Amy. I loved the combination of names yesterday, of the ones I can remember: Leo, two Violets, Ava, Sumalee, James, Ezra, Ian, Parker, Kaden, Ruby, Clara, Evelyn, Emmett. We seem to be heading back in to 'old fashioned' names, the ones that were popular when my mom was a girl.

Each little phase of the grandboys' childhood is so bittersweet. I didn't have the time or take the time when I was a young parent to realize that, for most of us, one time around the parenthood circuit is the only one we get. We're too tired, too stressed, too young ourselves to know how much we should savor each moment as we're living it. But, oh, how time and age gives us such a different perspective! This time I know it's the last time for me. I don't necessarily want to stop time and keep them little forever, but there are days I wish it would slow down a little bit! But, no...Time waits for no one.

Jesus loves me, this I know......

Yesterday my grandson Dylan handed me a toy cell phone and asked me, "Gram, will you call Heaven?" I asked him why. He said, "My other Papa is in Heaven." And I told him that yes, he is. He asked me, "Would you call and ask them to take care of him for me?"

If I had to sum up Friendship in one word, it would be Comfort. ~ Terri Guillemets

And so I enter into a new phase of grandparenthood. Preschool. Tonite my daughter-in-law and I went to the preschool orientation for Dylan. I was the only grandma there. Typical. I'm used to that. But what amazed...and amused...me was how many single fathers were there. A few of them in their work clothes - dress slacks, white shirts, ties - but definitely without any female in tow. Hmmmmmmmmm. Family dynamics were beginning to change when I was a young mother but the basic nuclear family - dad, mom, and kid/kids - was still pretty much the norm. Not so any more. I don't know if these fathers are actual 'single' fathers with custody of their little ones...or 'partnership' fathers...or if the mothers were working and unable to attend. It's a cooperative preschool so I'll be volunteering in the classroom two days per month. I'm sure I'll learn soon enough which child belongs to who and how it all circles around and weaves in and out, all the threads that will bind this small group of children together. My daughter-in-law and I both felt comfortable. It didn't feel like any of the women who run it have a 'goddess' complex of being in charge. Everyone was warm and friendly and helpful and informative. School begins Monday. Tally ho and away we go!



Today my best friend Lizzee came over to spend the day with me. Oh, I love her. Just absolutely love her. We've been best friends since February 1967. 43 years. Longer than many of you who are reading this have been alive. The year Spencer Tracy died. "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band" by the Beatles was released. "A Man for All Seasons" won the Academy Award. The 6-Day War was fought in Israel. Race riots erupted in Detroit, New York City, and Birmingham, Alabama. Thurgood Marshall became the first black Supreme Court Justice. Congress created PBS. Rolling Stone magazine debuted. "The Graduate", "Cool Hand Luke", "Bonnie and Clyde" and "In the Heat of the Night" were all popular movies. We were both 13 years old.



Yes, indeed. A lot of water under the bridge this friendship has stood by and watched trickle down the River of Life.



Amazing.

Leisure is the most challenging responsibility a man can be offered. ~ William Russell

I'm on vacation this week. No...this isn't me under a palm tree in the tropics. With my luck and my allergies, I'd be allergic to everything in bloom in Hawaii or the Caribbean. So...I stick close to home. In fact, I am home. Maybe someday, when the pace of my life slows down, I'll slow down but I'm beginning to think I've forgotten how to relax. The weekend was a typical weekend. Monday was lovely...we went to visit some friends of ours who live up near Mt. Hood and, after a great hike in the woods along a river, came back to their place for a barbecue out under the trees. Cool enough to wear sweaters, but crisp and refreshing. Tuesday I was at Fred Meyer when the doors opened to rent a rug shampooer and I came home and cleaned the living room carpet. I probably could've kept the shampooer and shampooed every day of the week but whatever...at least it's much cleaner and finally has the smell of the half-gallon of apple juice that exploded all over it gone now. I did some cleaning and sorting. This morning I took a couple of big bags of stuff over to the Goodwill, then came home and scraped the front porch steps to prep them for painting as soon as the weather cooperates. I helped Dear Hubby change an electric socket in the living room that's been sparking. Well, he changed it and I held the flash light...but you know what I mean. We almost passed out when he finally got it out of the wall...the amount of dust in the socket, as well as finding the outlet almost completely broken in two. It's a miracle the house hasn't burned down. As old as the fixture was, it'd probably been in that wall since electricity was installed. Since our house was built in 1912 I don't know if electricity extended this far out of the center of the city or not, since this area used to be filled with fruit orchards. But that socket had to be at least 75 years old. When Dear Hubby took it out it actually fell apart in his hands. The good Lord has truly smiled down upon us.

Let's see...what else have I done? I have done a little bit of reading. I'm trying to catch up on emails. I've had a killer sinus headache since I woke up yesterday morning that's kept me from doing as much of both as I'd like to do. But it's easing up. I'm feeling better this evening...and here I am!

Tomorrow my best friend Lizzee is coming over. We're going out to breakfast, then hanging out and just catching up. I'm not even sure the last time we got together. A year ago? I lose track of time so easily. She's been nursing a broken hand...I've been busy corralling two very rambunctious boys. I did ok with talking like a grown-up on Monday...I'm hoping I'll do well tomorrow, too. And on Friday when I go over and visit with my younger brother. I haven't seen him in at least a year, too. And both he and Lizzee just live across the Columbia River from me in Washington. Is that pathetic or what? The weekend? I dunno. Some more reading. I am starved for books lately, and I seem to have lucked out and have a pile of good ones waiting for me.

So...this is my vacation. Peaceful. Quiet. Fun to me, and that's all that matters.

If you haven't any charity in your heart, you have the worst kind of heart trouble. ~ Bob Hope

Was it Oprah who brought 'random acts of kindness' to the world's attention? I rarely ever watch her, but it seems like I remember kind of a hoopla about it a few years back. Or maybe it was on 'paying it forward'. Whatever. All I know is I find it hard to realize there are people out there who aren't kind to those around them when the opportunity arises. Maybe it comes from being raised by parents who were very generous to the 'underdog'. They were almost pioneers in Foster Care in Washington State back in the 1950s. We had so many children pass thru our home while I was growing up I lost count. If an extra child in the neighborhood showed up at dinner time, an extra plate was put on the table. No questions asked. What was ours was everyone's.

I don't really look for opportunities to be kind. Not on a daily basis. Basic human kindness...opening doors for someone laden down with packages or kids, giving a bus seat to someone elderly or in more need of it than I am...is something I've always done without even thinking about it. It's part of my nature, part of my upbringing. But every now and then it seems like these opportunities crop up in the strangest ways.

The other day Dylan, Coopy, and I had taken a long walk with the double stroller. We went to the library, then went to a store to pick up a couple of items we needed. As we went thru the checkout, the young lady who waited on us looked over the counter at our double stroller and asked me what kind it was and where I'd bought it. I told her it belonged to my daughter-in-law and son and they'd given it to me to use so I had no idea how much it cost but I was pretty sure they'd bought it at Walmart. It's a nice stroller, tho, so I don't think it was very cheap. She kind of wilted back over to her side of the counter, shoulders slumping, and said a very disappointed, "Ohhhhhhhh." I asked her, "Do you need one?" She looked all of about 18 or 19 years old. She said she didn't need one so much but she was looking around for one that her mom could use. Her mother is taking care of her little baby, as well as a 3-year-old nephew, and one would be really handy for her. Now, that struck a chord in my heart...another stay-at-home Grandma! The wheels in my brain started spinning.

I knew of someone who was getting rid of a double stroller, a friend of my daughter-in-law's. I called Erika when I got home to see if she still had it. She did. She brought it over to my house and I paid her $10 for it. It's a great double-stroller, a Sit and Ride, I think it's called. In excellent shape. SCORE!

This morning I put that stroller in the back of my pick up. I drove to the store, went inside, and asked if Tanna was working today. The girl I spoke to said, "Not right now, but she'll be here later. Can I help you?" I told her I'd had a conversation with Tanna the other day and she'd told me about needing a double stroller. I told the young lady I had one out in my truck...did she have room somewhere to store it until Tanna came to work? "Oh, sure! Bring it in and we'll put it behind the counter here!" So I did. When the girl asked me, "Do you want me to tell her who gave it to her?" I just smiled and said, "Tell her it was the silver-haired Grandma who was in here the other day." And I turned and I left.

I was raised being admonished "It's more blessed to give than to receive."

It is.

Learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere. ~ Chinese Proverb

Do we ever stop learning? Do we ever throw down the pencil, rip up the paper, toss it in to the garbage and say, "Enough already!"

As a little girl, with three brothers, I was a major tomboy. I had to be, not only to survive but also to be included in everything. Our neighborhood sorely lacked girls outside of myself, my friend Angie, and Ruthie...but Ruthie wasn't really one to come outside and play so we won't count her. Angie was a little more girly-girly than I was but she quite often followed my lead. We'd have our afternoons of hauling all of our Barbie stash out under the cherry tree in her yard and play dolls for hours, but quite often you'd find us playing baseball with the boys in Dr. Moore's parking lot, "War" in the Rambo's back field using real dirt clods for hand grenades. It was a toss-up most nites as to who was the dirtiest, myself or my brothers, when we'd come in at bedtime.

I'm left-handed but that didn't discourage my brothers from teaching me how to throw like a guy. I could throw a perfect spiral with a football. I was the girl 'star' in my class at kick ball. But I was a great pitcher. I perfected a killer curve ball. I threw hard, I threw fast, and I was deadly accurate. And I practiced and practiced. And practiced some more.

My dad taught me a lot of life strategies as a child that have worked well for me all of my life. Never back down. Never take a back seat to anyone. Being a girl isn't an excuse. You can do anything you set your mind to. Don't give up. No matter what kind of ball Life pitched at him he never struck out. He had a marvelous attititude. If you asked him how he liked his job, even if he detested it, he'd tell you, "Well, it's the only job I've got right now and I'm glad for that." He was generous. He was good-hearted.

So...I guess you could say I'm a chip off the old block. I try hard to see the glass half full. Dear Hubby tells me I'm about as easy-going as easy-going can be. After 36 years with me, he ought to know! I like to think I'm generous and good-hearted. I really do enjoy life.

I'm hoping all of this will hold me steady in the days to come. I'm hoping when I come across something I don't know the answer to, that I have no idea how I'm going to come to terms with, I'll dig deep into Dad's treasure trough of sound advice and put what I find there to good use. This is not going to be a time in my life when it's ok to falter, ok to back down, ok to give in and give up. This is a time when I need to hunker down and plan strategy. Someone is depending on me. I can not and will not fail them

The worth of a book is to be measured by what you can carry away from it. ~ James Bryce

Another very good end-of-summer read.
I've really been hitting the mother lode lately.
I usually check out 10 books and read two if I'm lucky.
But for the past few weeks I've enjoyed everything I've read!

Trust yourself. You know more than you think you do. ~ Dr. Benjamin Spock

There have been some personal issues in my life recently that have rattled my cage a bit. Nothing I want to divulge publicly at the moment but I am once again amazed at how we humans can hear or learn something and then adjust our minds to it. We twiddle and tweak, churn and chew. If our mind can't take it this way, we turn it that way. Until, exhausted mentally and emotionally, we find our own personal 'solution' or 'acceptance', dust off our shoulders, deal with it...and move on. That's where I'm at now, I think...the dusting stage. As for moving on...well, it's baby steps all the way at this point.

This is a lesson I have learned. Thank you very much, Missy Moooooooooooo. Love you to pieces, girlfriend.

Anyway...

Blog Angst is a weird phenomenon, isn't it? I think you fellow bloggers know what I'm talking about. We go along most days feeling fairly positive about what we write, like maybe our little blog is a neat and tidy niche in the whole scheme of the millions of blogs out there, one that maybe 10's of people might stumble across in a day and... maybe... enjoy reading. And then we come across one like this (be forewarned there's music so be prepared) that is so mind-blowingly beautiful and yet so simple and has millions of readers, thousands of comments, and self-doubt doesn't come creeping in...it roars in. It's at moments like these where we are truly humbled. At least I am.

If the human brain were so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we couldn't. ~ Emerson M. Pugh

The retail world has a new online consumer: my grandson Dylan. This young boy has been learning lately the joys of computers, mainly online educational games. He's been wanting to add to his "Cars" collection and yesterday he asked me, "Grandma, do you think we can find some on the 'puter?" Mainly, to begin with, it was to find character names of some of the more obscure vehicles from the movie. We found a dandy site for that. And we even ordered 4 new cars, which should be coming by the end of the week. Today we went back to the site, just because he loves to scroll down the page and click on each one to enlarge it, then click the Back arrow to the main page. At the age of 4 his computer skills are quickly catching up with mine! He's so excited knowing his new cars will be arriving any day now that he's asking when he can order more. What have I created?! And I'm already searching for new educational game sites. He's getting bored with the ones he's been playing on, within a few days of finding them. He asked me this afternoon, "Grandma, can you find me some new ones? These are so boring!" I've really got to stay on my toes to keep one step ahead of him.

Our Tiny Mouse arrived today and already I'm loving it! We hooked it up right after the grandboys woke up from their naps and I was amazed at how much it helped Dylan in navigating on the computer. As for me, with the arthritis in my hands it is so much more comfortable! Not having to flex my fingers and hand joints to maneuver a larger mouse already feels better. And it hardly takes up any space.

When you're green you're growing, and when you're ripe you start to rot. ~ Ray Kroc

I received this in an email from a dear friend of mine who lives in Perth, Western Australia. After reading it...because I remember every item listed...I am already tired before I've even begun my day:

Someone asked the other day, 'What was your favourite 'fast food' when you were growing up?'

'We didn't have fast food when I was growing up,' I informed him. 'All the food was slow.'

'C'mon, seriously.. Where did you eat?'

'It was a place called 'home,'' I explained. 'Mum cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we sat down together at the dining room table, and if I didn't like what she put on my plate, I was allowed to sit there until I did like it.'

By this time, the lad was laughing so hard I was afraid he was going to suffer serious internal damage, so I didn't tell him the part about how I had to have permission to leave the table. But here are some other things I would have told him about my childhood if I'd figured his system could have handled it:

Some parents NEVER owned their own house, wore jeans, set foot on a golf course, travelled out of the country or had a credit card.

My parents never drove me to school. I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only had one speed, (slow).

We didn't have a television in our house until I was 10. It was, of course, black and white, and the station went off the air at 10 pm, after playing the national anthem and epilogue; it came back on the air at about 6 a.m. and there was usually a locally produced news and farm show on, featuring local people.

I never had a telephone in my room. The only phone was on a party line. Before you could dial, you had to listen and make sure some people you didn't know weren't already using the line.

Pizzas were not delivered to our home... But milk was.

All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers -- My brother delivered a newspaper, seven days a week. He had to get up at 6AM every morning.

Film stars kissed with their mouths shut. At least, they did in the films. There were no movie ratings because all movies were responsibly produced for everyone to enjoy viewing, without profanity or violence or almost anything offensive.

If you grew up in a generation before there was fast food, you may want to share some of these memories with your children or grandchildren. Just don't blame me if they bust a gut laughing:

Growing up isn't what it used to be, is it? How many do you remember these:

Headlight dip-switches on the floor of the car.

Ignition switches on the dashboard.

Trouser leg clips for bicycles without chain guards.

Soldering irons you heated on a gas burner.

Using hand signals for cars without turn indicators.

Sweet cigarettes

Coffee shops with juke boxes

Home milk delivery in glass bottles

Party lines on the telephone

Newsreels before the movie

TV test patterns that came on at night after the last show and were there until TV shows started again in the morning

Peashooters

33 rpm records

45 RPM records

Hi-fi's

Metal ice trays with levers

Blue flashbulb

Cork popguns

Wash tub wringers

How about you? Feeling old, too?