Just Me Talking to Myself
A Day In the Life
HaPpY BiRthDaY 2014
When Life Gives You Lemons…
Use them!
The weather in this region has been pretty sucky for the last few days as many roads are impassable due to ice. ICE, not snow. Snow is not sucky. I like snow. I can drive in it, heck I’ll even eat it but what we’ve got is not edible or drivable unless you’re just feeling wild and crazy. I must be getting old because I don’t feel so wild and crazy.
Not too long ago I would have gleefully tested my sliding skills on foot or behind the wheel and laughed at any mishap. Now I dare not chance it and worry about the kids making it home safely. Back in the day a power outage was an adventure; nowadays I fear the grandchildren won’t be warm enough…
🙂 Well the kids are nestled in their homes all fine and dandy [sigh] and their children are ‘snug as a bug in a rug’ so I can go about enjoying life’s lemons…
I’ll start with savoring Santa’s lemon apples with caramel dipping sauce. YUM!
We’ll turn the Christmas music on and decorate the tree
And sing along Peanuts roasting on a cast iron stove…
And maybe I’ll tell Santa what a good boy he has been….
A Pilgrims Prayer
Once upon a time a long, a long time ago (before Black Friday) Thanksgiving was a celebration of harvest and a time to give thanks. Hence the name thanksgiving.
I don’t think the early pilgrims had a Super Walmart, a Sears or a Best Buy yet somehow they managed. Can you imagine having to grow your own food and prepare it without the help of google? When did they have time? Where did they get their Stove Top stuffing and who plucked the turkeys? How did those crazy pilgrims do it?
I didn’t really know any of those pilgrims but I did see a John Wayne movie once. John knew a pilgrim when he saw one. He seemed to know a lot of pilgrims but that was a long time ago too.
I propose we are all pilgrims, each one of us on a journey of sorts. Our own personal pilgrimage…
Aren’t we are all looking for something? Be it a quest for self-confirmation, truth, a cure, enrichment, comfort, a friend, a lover, a job, a meal or a place to lay our weary head at the end of another day.
I believe life is a journey, or at least it should be. It would be terrible to think we were just flailing through this experience; killing time on this giant floating gumball while waiting for the next Black Friday specials.
I believe we all have one destination though we travel different roads and I trust that we have choices.
Hopefully we will choose well. On the occasion we do take a wrong turn [and we will from time to time] I pray we have enough sense and humility to stop and seek direction… to reassess our route and to be considerate in our voyage.
So here’s wishing all of you pilgrims a Happy, Happy Thanksgiving and may we all, whatever road we’re on, take time to look ahead, pause and bow our head in thanks.
My personal prayer:
I pray our good seeds of hope, humility, toil and courage produce abundantly; that love and kindness grow wild like the weeds of early spring – fruitful and undeterred. And may our harvest be rich with wisdom and discernment.
Thank you Father, The Creator of all things, for this day and all it holds. Thank you for the days past and Father forgive me for my wrong turns. Thank you for the day to come and guide me to make better choices. Thank you for all the pilgrims in my life – for those who’ve gone ahead and the ones that come behind and for those who read this prayer. And Thank You Father for the beacon that lights my way.
In Jesus name, Amen.
Paper Nostalgia
6 Lessons Learned Because of the First Day of School
I’m re-blogging this because Staci makes six [eternally] valid points.
We all can benefit from spending time with family and friends.
Knowledge is wonderful and powerful.
Routine breeds productivity.
Physical de-cluttering leads to mental clarity.
Change can be good.
Entertainment in any form (particularly Steeler football, but to each his own) is necessary for recharging.
Today is the first day of school for my kids. I have no idea where the summer went. It seems like it was just last week that they came home ready to celebrate the end of their school year. We went back to Pennsylvania for a visit, came home, and sports practices started. Now here we are, school supplies purchased and packed, and struggling to get up in time to make the bus.
I guess the adage is true: Time flies when you’re having fun. Or running all over the city as a chauffeur.
I dreaded this day since the first day of summer break. I hate not having my kids around. Sure, they weren’t around that much anyway, what with social events and sports activities, but they were here a lot more than they will be now. And in a few years, they won’t be here at all.
Saying…
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Let’s Talk Turkey
I was taking a walk with Whiskey (the eight month old German Shepherd I inherited) and came upon a flock of these feathered non-smack talking birds and just wondered…
Does anyone say ‘jive turkey’ anymore?
Why is a ‘turkey’ considered dumb? Have you ever hunted turkey? Most game hunters will tell you those dull [seemingly dim witted] birds are really quite clever.
If a turkey is a dummy and a jive turkey is someone who doesn’t know what they’re talking about why do people say “let’s talk turkey” when they want a serious discussion?
Hmmm. All of this turkey talk has made me hungry. Enjoy the pictures, I’m going to make myself a sandwich.
Farewell to The Mean Green Traveling Machine
The Mean Green Traveling Machine
If vehicles were books…
If words were miles…
If cracked leather upholstery could speak…
If frogs had wings they wouldn’t bump their ass every time they hopped. 😉
I snapped a few shots as they readied her to travel yesterday and said goodbye to the 1996 Chevrolet Blazer but I wasn’t prepared for such nostalgia!
Seventeen years ago I was totally in love with that piece of machinery but it hasn’t been driven in over six months and it was taking up space. It was old and out of style, it had become temperamental and needed repairs and maybe it reminded me too much of something else. The melancholy definitely goes much deeper than a defective starter, a dented bumper or Kool-Aid stains in the rear compartment and I was just thinking…
She has seen her fair share of asphalt, dirt roads and white rock. From daily commutes to long trips, from mountain tops to sandy beaches…
Our oldest son vacationed in it when his first child was just an infant. They traveled to San Antonio. That infant is a sophomore in high school now. The oldest daughter borrowed it from time to time when she needed reliable transportation — when her babies were literally babies. Our youngest two children learned to drive behind the wheel of the hunter green hooptie and I’m sure they entrusted more than a few secrets to her, I know I did.
If The Mean Green Traveling Machine were a novel she would be epic. The odometer read 220,771 miles. Actually it was 220,771.4 when the man winched her onto the trailer.
Here’s praying the donation makes a positive difference in someone’s life and hoping the hooptie doesn’t gossip.
The Last Man Standing
We went for the annual camp-out this past weekend. I expected a small crowd and a somber mood considering it was our first gathering on the lake since my dear aunt left this world last June and this was her thing, she loved it.
Only thirty five or forty of us were in attendance so the crowd was small but the mood was far from somber. I should have known better than to think that.
We do not dwell on sorrow. No, we mustn’t… we cannot. And we did not. Instead we laughed and reminisced about our rambunctious youth spent on the shores of Navarro Mills. A time when our numbers were more, a time when strength and stamina ran hard through our veins, a time when we were too confident to recognize the gift.
Remembering makes us aware of our weakness but we remember anyway because it also brings us comfort. These are my memories:
I remember tents dotting the landscape, fried eggs on an open campfire, horse shoes clanking, blankets of bluebonnets, chasing birds along the banks and walking for miles in the sweltering heat. Swimming in the murky water, boat rides, the smell of roasted marshmallows and fishing along the shoreline. I remember crystal clear nights and counting stars until we fell asleep, long walks to the toilet, frigid dawns stealing slumber, and anxiously awaiting the next sunrise so we could do it all again.
With nostalgia I watch our children and grandchildren between sneaking stares at the last man standing (my father’s baby brother) and hope they understand what this gathering silently implies, these things you must remember.







