tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47745927988374816592024-03-13T13:11:18.715-05:00Searching for the Good Life on the Funny FarmA blog by a couple of baby boomers who are now retired and looking to find the good life. We are looking at some new things to try and ways to incorporate our old skills into this new way of life. We look forward to sharing this journey with folks we meet along the way.Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-12518009802800244622021-02-16T13:16:00.003-06:002021-02-16T13:17:39.722-06:00Having a Snow Day without the Snow!<p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"> Once upon a time, a Snow Day meant no school and time running around outside in the strange white stuff that appeared in our yard, on the sidewalk, all over the car and every twig and bush in sight. Today is a Snow Day in our neck of the woods, only we have no snow. We had a 2 % chance of it last night but the biggest thing was the possibility of ice or sleet. So the powers that be, in their infinite wisdom, decided to cancel school since school busses and ice do not always get along. Late yesterday afternoon it was announced that there would be no school today. Virtual or otherwise. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">In my childhood, there was nothing that compared to a Snow Day. It was that reprieve that comes from above to give you unexpected freedom to sleep in (but we never did) or jump up, grab some toast and start planning for all the fun things we would do in the snow. Choices seemed endless but they always included a snowball fight, building a snow man and occasionally we'd think we could build a snow fort. We never had quite enough snow for that ambitious undertaking, but we always talked about it, planned it and got a thrill just thinking about it. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">So a Snow Day back then started with a weather report from our beloved weatherman at WLBT whose name was Woodie Assaf. Woodie was the very first weatherman when that station went on the air back in the 50s and stayed on long enough to be the longest weatherman at one station in history. He was beloved by so many, but no one loved him more than the kids in Jackson who were going to enjoy a day off from school and if we were really lucky, maybe two days! </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiai86HU3qc64waINNjvOsunhOjsGjxUhhFEQ2-svil6kQtyvFMjhw6gcumf2hZqBlcTYM6C5iTK65ix-vydddxvE7ZiuNX1HWVFCy-UBhrmPD77CotHJ31gSEFdMiXL52wsr2dZh-tCO07/s896/Woodie+Assaf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="697" data-original-width="896" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiai86HU3qc64waINNjvOsunhOjsGjxUhhFEQ2-svil6kQtyvFMjhw6gcumf2hZqBlcTYM6C5iTK65ix-vydddxvE7ZiuNX1HWVFCy-UBhrmPD77CotHJ31gSEFdMiXL52wsr2dZh-tCO07/s320/Woodie+Assaf.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">As our Snow Day went on, we played until we were worn to a nub and frozen like a Popsicle. One year we ran out of gloves and resorted to using Daddy's socks for our hands. We used up every pair of socks in the drawer and did not earn any brownie points with him for that stunt. I am guessing we used up our own socks, too, so we must have had some kind of snow man building contest going on! I recall mama putting a wooden drying rack over the floor furnace to dry out enough socks so we could all have socks the next day. </span><p></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">After we were frozen to the marrow, we would reluctantly come inside to thaw out. Invariably, one of us would decide we needed to cook something so out would come the Watkin's Cookbook. That cookbook was a bit tattered and stained with cake batter, melted butter and who knows what else from years of cooking efforts by our mother and older sister, Charlotte. Charlotte made all kinds of pie and goodies from that cookbook, including a killer Lemon Meringue Pie. I am pretty sure the Mincemeat Pie she made every Christmas (for Daddy's benefit) was in that cookbook, too. But pies and cakes were not what we were intending to make. Our goal was a warm, sweet, delicious plate of Fudge. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">The recipe called for cocoa, sugar, butter, milk and a bit of salt. And lots of cooking and stirring. Cooking and Stirring. A girl could get impatient from all the cooking and stirring and often did! So we would do the ball test in a cup of cold water to see if it was ready. And do it again and again. The thing is, fudge is a finicky product and if you don't do everything just right, it will never set up. And we knew that but eagerness to test our product would often get the best of us and we would add that final nub of butter, stir vigorously and then pour it onto a greased plate or platter. Then the most difficult waiting happened. It was supposed to harden. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Supposed to harden being the operative word. Many times it did. But once in a while it just sat in a gooey puddle and we stared at it, hoping for a miracle. One time we actually placed the plate outside in the snow to see if that would hasten the process. No luck. It was still like fudge sauce for a sundae. Our backdoor neighbor, Tommy, was there to help us eat it straight off the plate with spoons. And no fudge ever tasted better than the kind we made on a Snow Day. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">And speaking of Tommy, I recall one year before we ever set foot out the door, I was admiring the glistening snow, thinking it looked like a virtual fairy land. It was like something from another planet since snow was not an every year thing in Jackson, Mississippi. So I was lost in a fantasy of the perfection of that snow covering every leaf and swig and not a single mark or footprint in our backyard. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Tommy trudging up to our backdoor, dragging his feet and totally destroying the perfection. I am pretty sure I chewed him out for 5 minutes straight. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Snow Days back in my childhood were special, magical. My granddaughter, Luci, told me the same thing yesterday when she went our in their backyard to inspect the landscape and discovered the pond in the back was frozen over. Not enough for skating, of course, but still enough to give it a surreal, magical look. That was how she saw it --magical. Some things never change. When you see things that are new to you or not seen very often, they do take on magical qualities. They even ran across two deer back there, scampering around in the snow. Their Snow Day will be one of those things they remember forever. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">And so it is for me. The memories of Snow Days past evoke happy memories of playing in the snow until exhaustion took over. Making a pot of fudge that no matter how it turned out we declared to be the best we ever made. Staring out a window onto a snow covered landscape and a dear childhood friend making his way to our door for some fun. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">The Snow Day of 2021 is not like the Snow Days so long ago. There is no snow and we certainly are not making fudge or snow angels. The important thing about this Snow Day is the memories it brought back. The important thing about those memories is that along with the memory, it brings a flood of feelings of happiness, giddiness at the unexpected day off from school and all the possibilities that were given to us. I hope I never forget how those days made me feel. If you have memories like that, I hope you retain them all the days of your life for those are the kind of things we cherish most. A day that lives on long after the day is gone. A day to treasure and relive for the rest of our lives. Happy Snow Day! </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"> </span></p>Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-60593788222287546102020-10-01T12:54:00.000-05:002020-10-01T12:54:35.095-05:00Twenty-Twenty, Learning To Fly and Life Lessons<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> <span style="color: #073763;">The year 2020 has turned out to be a doozy by all kinds of standards. It started off innocent enough but barely were we into the year, we began hearing rumblings of a disease --- a <i>pandemic --- </i>unlike any the world has seen since 1918. Most of us had some vague notion of what a pandemic is but no real experience or idea what it would mean to us. We soon found out that our lives were all about to be upended in ways we couldn't imagine. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">So in the 9 months or so since we heard about the virus, Covid 19, a running joke, meme or saying among us whenever bad or unpleasant things happen is to say, "Well, it<b> IS </b>2020." As if just the year alone accounts for any calamity or malady that befalls us. We forget that our lives are a complex tapestry of events --good and bad-- that accompany us through our lifetimes. </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Sometimes we wrap ourselves in a cocoon of denial that seemingly insulates us against the evils and troubles that can befall us. In a childlike innocence, we live as if we can avoid life's worst calamities or realities by simply denying they will happen to us. Permit me to illustrate with a story from my childhood.</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">When I was about nine or 10, my sister and I and our playmates from across the street would run around in their front yard and make wild leaps from a slight incline onto the pavement of the street. Our goal was to actually stay aloft long enough to experience the sensation of flying. We were fully familiar with gravity and had probably even studied a little about it in school by that time. But there we were, leaping and shouting to one another saying boldly, "Look! I stayed up a little that time." It was as if we wished it to be true, it would be true. But alas, it was never true and only the imagination of our young minds allowed us to believe we could fly -- if only for a tiny fraction of a second. The reality of gravity never lost its grip and soon brought us right back down to the ground. </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">So it has been with Covid-19. It has brought unimaginable tragedy into the lives of over 200,000 Americans and millions around the world. Many more will live with its after effects for an unknown number of years. So it has turned out to be a very bad event in the history of the world. And that does not even mention the economic and social problems that have come upon us as jobs are lost, schools closed, business closed permanently and families being split apart as loved ones lay dying. </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">2020 has not just had disease that has plagued us. There have been major fires in the west, hurricanes on our coastlines, flooding in the heartland and we have begun to wince and duck whenever the nightly news begins with another round of tragic or sad news that has happened. It has gotten so bad that we often fail to notice that there are good things that have happened in this same year. The balance of good to bad is still happening to us but we let the bad blind us to what else is going on. </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I say all of this to remind us that with every loss, with every tragedy we add another layer to our ability to cope with our sometimes chaotic lives. It's not to say that we must have the bad with the good. It is to say that we<b> will</b> have the bad as well as the good. There are life lessons in everything we experience. When we are young we often get blindsided by the seeming unfairness of things. We rant and rave against the injustice and may think it is all hopeless. But one thing I have noticed is that as we age, we get a little bit of wisdom that teaches us that no one escapes these events. No matter what your station in life, certain things will come your way.</span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">My grandmothers were both strong resilient ladies who had so much sadness and tragedy in their lives, it is hard to imagine it. In their later years, I remember them as women who faced illness and death of loved ones with a grace and acceptance that younger ones often cannot achieve. Their life experiences and lessons built upon one another so that while still sad and grieving, they did not allow it to devastate them to the point of being unable to carry on their own lives. </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">This is to say that if there is a point to our lives, it is that we can grown stronger than we imagined and can come out of our cocoon of denial to realize what we go through, what happens to us is part of being human. We don't have to like it. In fact, it is normal to push back against it. But denying it is as foolish as denying gravity and thinking we can really fly. </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Life lessons happen all around us. Sometimes they happen<u> to</u> us. They are events so powerful they change us and change how to react to the next event that comes along. I hope all of us can take the good and bad things that have occurred in 2020 and incorporate them into who we are so we're stronger and better able to cope with the next thing that comes along because as surely as we are here witnessing life on this day, another event -- good or bad -- will come along. We will need coping skills to guide us. If we're looking to a point to life, it is that we're on a journey of learning and growing. It is up to us whether we incorporate those lessons into our arsenal of skills -- that great tapestry that surrounds us throughout our lives. </span></p><p><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p>Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-67295305039372201562019-07-02T11:31:00.001-05:002019-07-02T11:31:40.860-05:00Finding Your Beam of Light Across the WaterI've had this thought bouncing around in my noggin' ever since I saw a video on YouTube a few days ago. An artist I like to follow lives in Ireland (although she is Polish) and she and her family went out for a day trip to a nearby lighthouse. They climbed the steps in the lighthouse to where they could see out for miles and also see the lighthouse beam circling inside its housing. The moment I saw that beam making its way around the circle, I thought of how much that beam has meant to mariners for decades. It was kind of awe inspiring to know it has been a source of guidance and comfort for many years to those out on the seas looking for land and the way home. <br />
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A lighthouse serves as both a welcome home and a warning to stay clear. In some parts of the world there are dangerous rocks and boulders that will destroy a ship or boat if they drift too close. So lighthouses serve as an important source of information as their beams scatter out across the seas. <br />
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It made me think about how we all look for guidance from time to time or a place to regain calm and equilibrium. We all seem to have a place or a person or a thing that helps restore that balance that we need in our lives. Sometimes we need to think through a difficult matter to make sure we don't make bad mistakes. It may be a different source but it serves the same purpose. Sometimes it helps to remind ourselves what those things are so when we get overwhelmed or too tired to think about it, we just know what we need to do, where we need to go. <br />
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For many of my family and friends, their place of guidance and refuge is their faith. Even a short time spent in prayer or meditation can calm their soul and give them the courage to face difficult times or just to renew their spirit to carry on. It might happen in a temple, cathedral or simply outdoors under a canopy of stars. Their faith is their beam of light in the darkness. <br />
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I've heard more than a few of my family mention being on the water as a place to renew and restore the weary. My father was one of those people who loved water whether it was a lake or the Gulf of Mexico. He spent many happy hours aboard our cabin cruiser that he built with his own two hands. Fishing for ling, mackerel or other tasty critters (crabs, shrimp and oysters) come to mind. But he was not averse to taking along a good book to read and just bob around in the water, listening to waves lap gently alongside the boat. He used that time to think about hard things, to just reflect on life and what it means. And I can't think of a better use of your time then to think on big questions and topics. It is one of those things that make us human. We don't always find answers but just the journey, the contemplating is worth doing. <br />
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My daughter in law has a special affinity for the beach. She loves to dig her toes in the sand and let the salty water wash across her tootsies. The hot walk across the sand is immediately relieved by the cool, refreshing water from the Gulf. She has passed that love of all things beach related to her children who are always up for a day at the beach. <br />
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Others I know are mountain people. Give them a snow capped mountain and they are in heaven. A cup of hot cocoa or spicy tea, a picture window and they are content for hours. Those who ski will race you to the lifts to spend time on the slopes. There are few I know who really enjoy a trek along mountain trails in the spring. Seeing the wildflowers and luscious green leaves makes even the most tense and jaded person stop and just breathe in the air. <br />
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I enjoy all of the things I've mentioned but one thing I have not mentioned is pursuing art. By art, I mean any and all creative endeavors. It might be painting or crafting. It could be writing, just for fun. Or maybe music is your thing. Some listen to their favorite music to relax and unwind. But for others, it is creating music that takes them to that happy place. My oldest grandson is a musician. He has been interested in music since he was a wee tyke. He plays guitar and piano and as he got older got interested in composing music, as well as the production of music. If you hear him noodling around with his guitar in his room, you know he is finding his comfort and joy. He can do that for hours but it is his way of letting go of stress and restoring a sense of well being. <br />
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One last thing I'll mention is food. There is even a term we use called comfort food. So many celebrations and holidays are intricately entwined with foods that are familiar and comforting. I remember my Granny Bessie's wonderful grits. They took at least an hour to cook and were the best warm food to eat on a winter day. She must have infused them with some extra butter, along with a huge dash of love to make me remember them after all these years. I have heard some folks say it is not Thanksgiving (or you name the event) without so in so's --- tater salad, cornbread dressing, home grown 'maters. A friend of mine even wrote an essay on a Tomato Sandwich as a memory from her childhood. Those are things that bring instant comfort and often a flood of happy memories.<br />
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Whatever is your lighthouse, giving a warning or a comfort across the darkness, we all have them. When times get rough, when things are just too hard to tolerate, remember your places of refuge and relief. There is no need to suffer or be in anguish when often what you need is a break from the routine. Take time to breathe, relax, commune with nature or whatever it is that makes your heart sing. It's all out there waiting on you to take your turn searching for that beam across the water. <br />
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Happy Trails,<br />
Marcia <br />
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Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-50365523716080248772019-02-07T16:05:00.000-06:002019-02-07T16:05:14.423-06:00Little Changes Can Mean Big ImprovementIt was just 1/4 inch. But it needed to go. My hair reaches a certain point in growth where my bangs are too long, dangle into my eyes (or just above them) and really get on my nerves. So today after I hopped out of the shower, I combed my wet hair, grabbed some sharp scissors and snipped just a tiny 1/4 inch from the bangs. Just the bangs. Everything else was suiting me just fine. <br />
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In that quick moment, one little change made a big difference styling my hair. After I dried my hair, my bangs which had been hanging precipitously close to my eyes were back in their lane, behaving quite nicely. All was right again. <br />
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And that is how I came to think about how little changes can mean a lot in our every day lives. Sometimes it is a bad habit we need to give up. Other times it is something we need to add into our lives. So here are some things to think about as you read this. How can I do something little but that might make a big difference?<br />
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Incorporating change (big or little) takes thought and intention. You may need to make reminders to yourself or mentally tie a string around your finger. You can write about your day and whether you were successful in making your change in a daily journal or a bullet journal. Happy planners are all the rage these days and many people track their progress in that. Others just as happily take note but never keep track at all. <br />
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Some things you might consider for change in your life might include being more active. Taking daily walks does not mean you walk on a 10 mile hike. It could be as simple as a walk around the block. Or heading to your nearest super store and taking a climate controlled walk through the aisles. Many communities have lovely parks and trails so not only will you get in walking, but you'll have nice scenery, too. Get a walking buddy and make it a regular thing. <br />
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Maybe you need to destress or disconnect from our too connected world. Taking a break from all of your devices is not as easy as it sounds, however. So much of our lives is controlled by our phones, computers and other electronics. We even have cameras in our door bells, all around our house and I honestly can't think of any place we can go any more without being recorded. But, with intention, and a plan you can put down the device and do something else. No, not pick up another device. Find a place to relax, have a cup of tea, relax and just unwind. We don't do enough of that and it is a good and necessary thing to do. <br />
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Which brings me to meditation. Some people find that incorporating a regular time to meditate and reflect brings peace into their busy life. If you are a person of faith, you probably have a Holy Book that is meaningful to you and can offer passages of comfort or enlightenment for nearly any occasion or issue. Even those who follow no particular religious path can find plenty to think about or to think UPON. One does not need to lead the life of a monk to get these benefits. Just a few minutes at the beginning of your day or at the end may be just what you need to quiet your mind. <br />
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Find a creative outlet. This can be many different things. For some it is writing. Maybe in a journal, a dairy, letters or emails to friends and family. Maybe you've always wanted to write a novel or write poetry. Opportunities abound. Even letters to the editor of your local paper give you an outlet to express your opinion and make your voice heard. Others find their creativity in art or artistic endeavors. Painting, sketching or working in clay might be the thing that captures your interest. I love doing collage with scraps of paper, fiber and ephemera I collect. I also love taking photographs and have way too many stored on my computer and in cyberspace on Carbonite. I am presently looking at a project using my own photographs as the ephemera. My oldest grandson, Gavin, is a musician. He finds great joy in just taking his guitar, getting in a quiet place and composing or just noodling around on his guitar. He might write a new song. Or he might just find joy in playing a piece of music he has known for years. The main thing is it is his choice and he chooses how to spend that time. <br />
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Maybe cooking is your thing. For my mother, nothing meant more to her than to make a big pot of jambalaya for her friends and family. The smell of the spices she used would fill the house and everyone knew they were in for a real treat. She put her heart and soul into making it. I can still remember her smile when she announced that it was done and we should all come get a plate or bowl. Never diminish the effect of making a well loved pot of gumbo or a delicious layer cake that is someone's favorite. The recipient, of course, loves to get it, but the cook gets something in return. They get the joy of providing love on a plate. <br />
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I've given you some things to think about that might make a good place to start making changes in your life. I'm willing to bet you can think of many other little things you can do or NOT do that will have a positive influence on your life and maybe the lives of others, too. What will be your "quarter inch trim"? <br />
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If you are so inclined, please leave a comment. I really want to hear your thoughts and ideas!<br />
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Happy Trails until next time,<br />
Marcia Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-5486402241281545492015-04-06T16:53:00.000-05:002015-04-06T16:53:13.232-05:00Creating Your Legacy<span style="color: #20124d;">I was chatting online with my niece the other day when the discussion turned to THE BOOK they have been working on for the past few years. We call it THE BOOK mainly because it has become a rather large focus of their lives as they run through the hoops of having a book published. It is an ordeal to be sure but one they are happily working on and will probably see a print version of the book some time next year.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">I teased Rebecca as we were talking and alluded to all the talk shows they would be on as they make their book tour and of course, all the money that they will see coming in from the book sales. And Rebecca said back to me, in a more serious tone, that this book (while they are both writing it) is Rich's legacy. And that made me stop and think about what a legacy is.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">If you consult a dictionary, you are apt to get a number of different meanings of the word. It can be an inheritance, such as a sum of money left to you by your favorite aunt. Some of you might think of the word applying to someone who gets into a prestigious university based upon the fact that your father or other family member went there. Anyone remember Kent "Flounder" Dorfman in <u>Animal House</u>? And then there is the achievement or accomplishment that is the mark you leave on the world to acknowledge your having been here. It may even be of importance to those who come after you, but does not always have to be of that much significance. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">Now there is no doubt that Rich and Rebecca together have achieved success in many of the ways that this word conveys. Both have been teachers to students who remember them to this day. Early in their marriage they made a decision to form a company and have spent almost 25 years building their business traveling all over the world, teaching and studying how to improve teaching primarily in higher education. And the work they have done has made a difference in academia, one professor at a time, one teaching assistant at a time so that now Rebecca and Rich are known world wide for their expertise in this field. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">So why a book? Why do this when they already have fame and know they have made a difference in their field? It comes down to legacy. Rich was interested in this field before he and Rebecca met and began turning his attention to more effective ways to teach.. He studied what others had to say on the subject, began to gather the data to support the idea that teachers on the university level could use some guidance on how to teach and manage their classes so that students got a better education and were actually learning how to learn and to think. An effective teacher could teach his or her students how to work with others and be better problem solvers long after they left the academic setting. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">Over the years of doing workshops and continuing the study about this subject, they amassed a huge amount of experience, data and feedback from students to know they had the makings of a book that could be of value to the people in academia who would never attend one of their workshops. And so they set to work and soon they will reap the reward of seeing their hard work in print. Rich probably never started his career as an educator with the intention of making his legacy a book about more effective teaching, but in the end, it will represent his life's work, the work he and Rebecca together have done and will pass along to those who come after them. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">Not all who leave a legacy do so in the form of a book or world wide fame. Some will be like my Mother-in-Law, self named Big Mama, who has lived a relatively low key life. She has lived in the same community for most of her life. She has been a wife, mother, grandmother and worked as a nurse in a hospital setting and as the office nurse for a physician. Accomplishments were made to be sure. However, if you were to ask various family members about her, what many would say is that she could make a fabulous "cat head" biscuit. What you may ask is that? It is a homemade biscuit made from Martha White Self Rising Flour, Crisco and milk or butter milk. Why cat head? Because, according to Big Mama, they are as big as a cat's head! Many a meal at her house was served with a pan of biscuits, hot out of the oven, served with butter, sour cream, syrup or jelly. No finer eating anywhere, I assure you. Tender, moist and just slightly tangy, I can almost taste them as I write about them. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">About 25 years ago, she decided she wanted to learn how to make quilts. She saw an article about making a Quilt in a Day. She didn't have any illusions that she could do it in one day but she set about learning how to do that and began making quilts for family members that are still in use today. One day as I was making up our bed, I noticed a hand stitched corner of the quilt that said it was the Number 9 Quilt made by Mary Crawford. And gave the date: 5-8-1989 And there are other quilts in use by various family members who will have a lasting legacy from their Mom or grandmother. They warm us as we sleep and remind us we are loved by her and are important enough to her that she wanted to leave us with something handmade by her for us. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;"> Another family member who recently passed away, Aunt Shirley Willard, left a different kind of legacy. Yes, she left things, money and other tangible items to remind us of her but her legacy comes from how she lived her life, even in the last days of a long illness. Aunt Shirley was a kind and gentle soul, although she was a tough business woman, who ran her own real estate company and achieved success in that world. Her nature was to see the good in everyone and to come down on the side of fairness and forgiveness. Even in her dying days she would give words of advice to be kind to one another. A woman of faith, she believed with all of her heart that the way you live should reflect that faith. And she did. If you ask anyone who knew her, they will tell you that her legacy comes from how she treated others and how she inspired people to do better in their daily lives. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">So what will be your legacy? How will people remember you or speak about you? The important thing to remember is that a legacy does not have to be about fame or fortune. It can be the essence of you as a person, the kind of person you were. It can be for making a killer biscuit and tiny hand made stitches in a blue quilt. It can be for living an exemplary life that inspired others to be like you. Or maybe it will be a book that culminates a long career and reflects the things gleaned from that life's work. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #20124d;">Happy Trails until next time,</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">Marcia </span> <br />
<br />Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-82141083966033021562014-12-07T15:57:00.000-06:002014-12-07T15:57:35.115-06:00Changing Holiday Woes into a Wonderful Holiday! <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Well, it seems that the holiday season is upon us. The stores are filled with all the usual holiday stuff that they have calculated we want and need to make our season "merry and bright". I've already heard the usual complaint about how commercial this time of year has become and many people vowed to stay away from the infamous Black Friday sales held annually after Thanksgiving. The thing that we need to remember about that is that if people show up for these staged events, they will continue to occur and the time frame will get pushed back and back until we're having our Labor Day picnics right after we go to Black Friday sales. Already Halloween is only a tiny blip on the radar and Thanksgiving has nearly gotten trampled in the stampede of shoppers eager to be the first in line at the biggest shopping extravaganza of the year. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">It has been many years since Larry and I participated in the almost mandated shopping orgy that happens every year because at some point in the past we came to our senses and realized we were all spending way too much money (for our financial well-being) and it consumed too much energy and created way too much stress. We phased out the bloated buying first by drawing names so that each family bought a one for one gift. For each family member, they bought one gift and received one gift. As time went on and our inspiration ran out for the adults, we started limiting our gift buying to only the children. That worked for a few years and then we finally declared that even that was not necessary since it seemed that the kids were soon to get a sleigh full of toys and goodies from old Santa. And what we really wanted was to spend time with our loved ones over a meal of much loved and carefully made traditional foods. Hot ham, potato salad, turkey and dressing, Big Mama's Heavenly Hash. It was simply not a family feast without some of those things. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">It took several years for us to come to that conclusion and thinking about that reminded me of one of our first Christmases as a married couple. We were young, had very limited resources and weren't very smart when it came to finances. So in our misguided attempt to buy "nice presents", we headed off to a local loan company. They were only too happy to loan us the $100 dollars we were there to borrow. Yes, you read that right! Only $100 bucks but back then you could budget that much and still manage to get pretty nice gifts for everyone on your list. Never mind that it took us the whole <u>next year</u> to pay back that measly 100 dollars, we had gifts for the family and that was all that mattered at the time. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Soon enough we quit going to loan companies but that was after we discovered Spiegel Catalog. What a Christmas we had that year! I think we bought a small stereo for ourselves and "nice" gifts for the rest of the family. Again, it took a long time to pay off those purchases. But sometimes we're slow learners when it comes to finances. Eventually, we caught on and realized we were not helping ourselves when it came to how we spent our money. Plus, it started to dawn on us that we were being manipulated by the stores, advertising on TV and just peer pressure because everyone else did the same thing we did. We went in debt every year --- it was the expected thing --- in order to buy gifts for people who were going in debt to buy things for US! It made no sense whatsoever, but since everyone else was doing it and it seemed like we had no choice, we continued on that path for far too long. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Now if anyone thinks I am being a Scrooge here and that I'm anti-gift giving, that is far from what I am saying. My point is that we all need to take a step back and look at what we're doing and maybe more importantly, what is being done TO US. Let's face it, we (and our children/grandchildren) are bombarded with advertisements that are anything but subtle. The industry has gotten it down to a fine art to create buzz for the <i>must have</i> Toy of the Year. They tell us we deserve to reward ourselves. Listen to the messages that are aimed squarely at our emotions and deeply held wishes/wants and pretty soon, you are agreeing with the guy on TV who says you should have a luxury car (with a big red bow on it!!) or a trip to the islands while your friends shiver back at home. Your kids really want and <i>NEED</i> that Xbox system that is going to make their holiday the biggest and best ever. And they wrap it all up with talk of "magic of the season" and other heart tugging sentiments. Don't fool yourself. They have studied us forty ways to Sunday and they know every buzz word, every technique and manipulative image to make us join the herd, head to the mall or Best Buy and Wal- Mart or flip open your laptop and go straight to Amazon for the deal of the day. The truth is that for many (most) retailers if they don't meet or exceed huge sales goals during the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, they will not reach their profit goals for the entire year! So there is a lot of pressure from them to make us buy, buy, buy. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">If all of this makes you uncomfortable or even angry, it's time to take stock of what you want for this holiday season. It's time to think about what the season means to you and the truth is that it usually is not one thing for most of us. Yes, it's a high, holy religious time of the year for some religions. But it has been overtaken by the secular, commercial side of the season, too. So we have a blended event that is part religious, part secular and a whole lot of buying and feasting. Many of us have favorite foods and treats that we only have one time in the year. The decorations that we put in and on our homes and yards only are displayed during this season. Obviously, it is an important time of the year to many people for a variety of reasons. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">It should be a happy, joyous time of the year, no matter what your reasons for participating in the celebration. If it's not, it's time to rethink what you're doing and not just go on automatic pilot doing the same things, the same way for the same dumb reasons. What makes you stressed out? Is it the overspending or the debt you'll be facing in January? Is it trying to do too much and not enjoying any of it a whole lot? Are you festooning your home from top to bottom but there is no joy in it for you? Are you spending too much time standing at a hot stove, cooking a meal that is expensive, not appreciated and makes your back and feet hurt? </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I urge you, while there is still time to make a change, to think about what the season means to you. It is a complicated holiday for many of us. It brings back many memories of holidays past. Some of those will be happy and pleasant. For others, however, it may remind them of family strife and squabbles. You are the only one who knows what you want from this time of the year. Change to new traditions away from what you've always done is not easy and may have to come in stages. Just like it took us a while to realize we were spending too much money and from the wrong sources, it may take you a while to come up with a plan to make the holidays less stressful and more meaningful. And remember a lot of other people struggle with this every year so you are not alone in trying to get control of things and make them more to your liking. A simple online search for ideas to simplify your holidays will produce more good articles on getting to your goal without turning into Scrooge or abandoning all the traditions you enjoy. The key is to figure out which ones you enjoy and which ones you do out of habit or that you've been manipulated into doing year after year. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Our wish for all who read this blog post is that you have a wonderful holiday season filled with love, laughter, light and joy. We hope you'll stop and make an assessment of what is meaningful to you and your family and then make a promise to yourself that you will start weeding out things that don't add to your enjoyment. Trade out things that are too much trouble for what they are worth for things that you actually like and look forward to doing. Start now and you can make this year's celebrations better for you and your loved ones. If you do this each year, you'll tweak what you include in your traditions into something that fits your reasons for celebrating the holidays! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Happy Holidays and Joyous Wishes for a Healthy and Prosperous New Year!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Happy Trails,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Marcia </span></span>Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-42271686749134623062014-11-22T14:16:00.003-06:002014-11-22T14:25:47.370-06:00What Kind of Cook Are You?<span style="color: #660000;">So I was preparing some pork chops for the
Crock Pot this morning and found myself grabbing spices and herbs, along
with some other magic potions to go on the chops as they browned. I
was sort of mindlessly flinging things in the skillet when it occurred
to me that I was acting with reckless abandon, not unlike a Mad Scientist in
his laboratory. (Pronounced like a good British Mad Scientist would
say it: La-BORE-A-tory) I almost laughed out loud at the thought that
my cooking qualified me as a Mad Scientist. But I guess in a way it's
true.</span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000;">As we're concocting things in our kitchens, we are
either following closely along with Betty Crocker (or another of our
cookbook gurus) as our guide and mentor or we go off on our own path,
pulling things from our pantries, refrigerators and our vast repertoire
of experiences in the culinary arts. I find that most of the time I
am in the second category and mainly use recipes as <i>inspiration</i>
more than a rigid game plan to follow. I know, I know --- that can be
dangerous, especially in the baking game. If you don't get those
proportions and levels exactly like the "formula" calls for them to be,
you can end up with a pretty dreadful confection that fails to rise like
it should or is flat and tasteless!! So I don't often go off on my
own tangent for baking. However, I have been known to make Banana
Bread with nary a look at a recipe, just relying heavily on memory and
what I knew had to go in to make it good. And frankly, most of the
time, it has worked out. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000;">Most of the people I know give credit (or blame)
for their cooking skills to a significant person in their life. Maybe
it was their Mom or a Grandmother who took the time to let them sidle
up by them while they were cooking to observe or even help out. I
remember taking an interest in cooking when I was a pre-teen and then in
my teenage years. My sister, Ginny, and I would make platters of
homemade fudge, mashed potatoes or a steaming pot of grits to eat while
we watched movies. My Mom was a pretty good cook, too, and we watched
and observed what she did in the kitchen. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000;">My recollection is that my older sister,
Charlotte, was a good cook who pretty much taught herself how to cook.
She used cook books and made a lot of what we call "comfort food"
today. Her Sunday Pot Roast with mashed potatoes and green beans were
standard fare at her house. Fried chicken with rice and gravy showed
up on the table regularly, too. It was almost always good, filling
and tasty. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000;">Some people I know have told me that their Moms never (and I do mean <u>NEVER</u>)
allowed them in the kitchen. I am not sure why, but their experience
in the kitchen was extremely limited growing up and so what they
learned came from their own curiosity and interest in learning the
skill. I do believe those early experiences in the kitchen do more or
less set the tone for what kind of adventures you'll have in the
kitchen. If you start learning early in your life how to hold a knife
or what herbs and spices can do for your food, I think you tend to be
more adventurous and willing to spend a lot of time in the kitchen
honing those skills. If you are discouraged from having those
experiences when you're young, it may lead you in the opposite direction
so that cooking is not high on your priorities. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;">I
have to say that watching many of the cooking shows on The Food Network
has filled in a lot of gaps for me. What I didn't learn from my
mother or observed in other cooks or read in a cookbook, I found out by
watching<u> Chopped</u> or<u> Iron Chef.</u> The interesting thing
about Chopped is that the contestants are compelled to improvise with
the odd set of ingredients that they are required to use in order to
win. So they may be given some really oddball ingredients that
seemingly have no relation to each other than a frog does to a horse.
And yet, they are expected to utilize each of the items and come up
with a cohesive, tasty dish. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000;">What I have learned is that you have to think of
items in terms of what flavor (or texture) it imparts. So if you are
given some kind of cracker or cookie, you might end up grinding it up
and using it to bread a pork chop. It sounds off the wall but
sometimes a small compensation such as adding in another spice or herb
will offset the sweetness and it all works out fine. You have to
stretch your imagination to figure out how to use what you're given.
</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;">I have seen chefs melt
the chocolate off of a chocolate candy and chop up the peanut inside to
sprinkle over the top of a dish. Sometimes, the chef will have to
understand the properties of an ingredient and what it will do once it
is combined with another. It takes courage, knowledge, some
experience and yes, a bit of the Mad Scientist to figure out how to use
the ingredients and end up with a good dish and not a royal mess. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;">One
other thought on this subject is that I am always looking for recipes
to try. I look mainly on Pinterest but I still like looking in cook
books, even after years of looking at them. I have many in my
collection and inherited a few from my Mom. What I have realized
about myself is that often when I am in the midst of cooking (even by a
recipe) is that it will strike me that the dish would taste better if I
added something or substituted another ingredient for the one the recipe
calls for. I have no qualms about doing that and make no criticism
of the original recipe. Some people find a recipe on line, completely
revamp it, putting things in that weren't called for or substituting
with wild abandon and then go back to the site and slam the recipe,
especially if it does not turn out right. I do not do that and
honestly, get annoyed with those who do. If you totally change the
recipe, you didn't cook the dish you thought you did! But as I said, I
am completely comfortable with making additions or substitutions as the
mood strikes me. And I take blame OR credit for the way the dish
turns out. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Anyhow, just
out of curiosity, how do you think of yourself, dear reader? Are you
a recipe follower, and not prone to deviate from the proscribed way to
make the dish? Or are you more in the Mad Scientist category using
recipes as just a jumping off point or coming up with ideas on your own
or from things you see at the grocery store? Then again, maybe
you're like some people I know who prefer to "make reservations" for
dinner! Do tell. Which kind are you? </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000;">Happy Trails and Happy Thanksgiving!</span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Marcia </span>Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-7276080266315605992014-08-17T13:40:00.000-05:002014-08-17T13:40:34.060-05:00Unfinished Business<span style="color: #20124d;">We got to our house late yesterday after a day spent with family in Mobile. I opened the car door and what greeted me was the unmistakable chorus of a zillion cicada's singing their song. LOUD. I have heard them for the past few evenings and their loud buzz is not like anything else I've heard in my life. You can almost feel the vibrations in the air. </span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">As I walked up my sidewalk into the house, it occurred to me that even without the aid of a calendar, without seeing all the Back-to-School displays---with nothing else to guide me but that incessant buzzing noise in my neighborhood, I know the seasons are about to change. Upon closer observation, there are other simple signs, as well. </span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">The leaves on the Virginia Creeper gracefully draped along the fence top of my back yard are showing signs that they are slowing down. Their bright green foliage is starting to look a little weathered and leathery. A few leaves here and there have even lost their summer color and have quietly moved into bright shades of red, yellow, orange and brown. The squirrels that so eagerly attack our bird feeders for a quick snack or --- more likely --- a leisurely meal of sunflower seeds, are spending a lot more time digging and burying some of those seeds for a time later on in the winter when they will be in scarce supply. Oh and yep, they take the "one for the storage hole, one for my mouth" method of stashing their winter food. They never pass up the opportunity to eat some, bury some! </span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">The air starts to feel different as we move from July to August and then August begins to meld into September. Even in the south, we have seasons and no doubt about it, fall is coming. The thermometer still reads 90 degrees and by most measures, that qualifies as HOT. What happens as we move past summer toward autumn is that the humidity begins to have mercy on us. Instead of walking out into a wet blanket to start our day (or end a day of yard work), we find the air is cool and yes, almost sweet. Especially if you have given your yard a haircut and the scent of freshly mowed grass lingers into the twilight. It is a sign of what is coming and soon. A nice way to herald the beginning of a new season. </span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">As I think on these things, I can't help but think of lots of thinkers and philosophers and poets who contemplated all of these signs long before I did. They put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard or dictated into a tape recorder to give their spin on what they thought of, given what they have observed. So with that thought, I will do the same. My two cents for what they are worth. </span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">When we're young and not so indoctrinated with how the world/life works, we think time goes on forever. Summer vacation from school is endless. At least in June it is! The years to be young and carefree have no limit. Unless you have some tragic circumstance that snatches that bit of childhood fantasy from you, we live in that make believe world for a fairly long time. Then we wake up and realize that time waits for no man. No woman, either, for that matter. It is fleeting, slippery and can be over without warning. Indeed, it is an elusive, mysterious thing that we barely understand before our time is up and gone. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">My intent when I sat down to write this was not to be morose about all of this but to explain how thinking about something like time and its mysteries is a good thing. It forces you to explain to yourself how you feel and what's keeping you awake at night, what haunts you and WHY. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">What I have discovered is that the brain is pretty good at evading these questions in the cold light of day. I can find busy work, household chores and just plain frittering of time to escape an examination of my life and my issues. But at night. Oh, that is a different matter. Maybe it's because I am a captive audience. Captive to a brain that chooses at that time to creep into my consciousness and decide that it's a good time (midnight!!) to have a little chat. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">In any case, here is what happened a couple of nights ago. Without much effort or prodding, my brain began to come up with lots of <i>unfinished business</i>. Things I have on my To Do List and have had on it for a long time. Some I have partially done, some are "in process" and others just sit there, staring at me. Waiting. A lot of them have to do with organization of our household business. Records, important documents, that sort of thing all in one unit. Not scattered about in various boxes, drawers and folders. ONE place. Then there are the things I have talked about doing such as writing down stories for my grandchildren. They beg me to tell them about my childhood and I have told them many, many stories. But a better solution, while I still have<u> most</u> of my faculties, would be to actually write it all down. Then they'd have them long after I am not around to tell them. And then there are the fun, crafty things that are in boxes, bags and on shelves, also waiting for me to get them completed. Many of these are not odious, difficult tasks. They just need to be done and get off the Unfinished Business List.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">So why are they not done, since I have plenty of time on my hands these days, as a retired person? My keen and discerning mind has come up with this notion: I am still trapped back in the "life goes on forever, time is endless" mode. But I know better. I've had my own close encounters with death and it does give you a good slap in the face but unless you keep yourself in line, you will fall back into old ways of thinking and old ways of NOT doing. Avoidance is easy to do. It comes naturally to many of us. Holding myself to accountability and responsibility is much harder. </span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">Thus: my resolve to change my evil ways. First is to recognize and acknowledge the behavior. You can't fix what you don't admit, right? Second, devise a plan that includes some accountability. With this thought in mind, I have come to realize that I'd sleep better at night, have less stress and anxiety (and yes, there is anxiety when you look at things with a critical eye!) and would get a lot more done if I'd just be willing to change things just a bit. I don't need to change my whole persona. Just find new and more productive ways of spending my time. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">As summer fades into fall, as the leaves begin to drop from the vine, I see some new choices for me to spend my time. And that unfinished business list won't be so long and I'll feel better, too. We all have unfinished business. The question is what is it? Do you need to make amends for something you did that you now acknowledge was wrong? Are you avoiding talking heart to heart with a loved one or friend to tell him or her that you care about them, that you love them --- because if you do, it opens you up to a vulnerable place? Do you have tasks and projects that lie dormant because you're too busy avoiding them to get them finished? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">Time is always on the move whether we admit it or not. No machine or device that has been invented so far has been able to transport us back to an earlier point in our lives. Movies, video tapes, photographs and 8 mm recordings do a great job of giving us the impression that we're there, but it's history we're viewing. We're not there to make it all different. The time to act is now. In the present. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"> It's a sobering thought when you realize that there is a finiteness to our lives. And you can let it make you sad and depressed or you can take it as the fact that it is and resolve to use your time wisely and with intention. I've talked about living with intention before and I am reiterating it in this post. Pay attention and give some thought to how you spend those precious moments of your life. It is a commodity that is sometimes in short supply, in others doled out generously. Get that Unfinished List made and then start ticking the things off as you get them done. You'll feel a whole lot better, with fewer regrets and angst and I think you might even get a better night's sleep. </span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">Happy Trails,</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">Marcia </span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<br />Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-1871469403877408182014-06-04T17:35:00.000-05:002014-06-04T17:35:32.870-05:00The Good, the Bad and the Ugly<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="background-color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="background-color: white;">It's been a while since I posted anything and some of my long time fans (and all two of you know who you are) have been dropping hints that I needed to get back to writing and posting the mini chronicle of my life on this blog. I am a person who needs something to write about and I have to get "inspiration" before I can get going on these writing projects. So I was preparing to get dressed yesterday and, as is my habit, found myself standing, slack jawed, in my closet, hoping against hope that the contents had miraculously tidied themselves up. Nope, didn't happen. So I grabbed a few things, shoved them back on the shelf and re-arranged a few things lurking on the floor and NO, not all of them were shoes. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #073763;"><span style="background-color: white;">The sad state of affairs in my closet kind of stuck with me and even as I tried to sleep last night kept nagging at me. Do something, I kept hearing in my head. Quit putting this off. You KNOW what needs to be done. So in the middle of my sleepless night, I vowed to get going on a long overdue project. I would tackle my side of our closet and eventually, get Larry's side back in order, too. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;">First, the</span><span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: #073763;"> </span><b>Good</b></span> <span style="color: #073763;">about all of this. I have a friend who persists in telling me that I am "the original happy camper". And she is mostly right about that. I do have my moments of being unhappy and rather vocal about it, but for the most part, I have a good attitude and have dealt with difficult and dreaded situations quite a few times in my life. As a nearly 24 year survivor of breast cancer, I can tell you that I've faced <u>far worse things</u> than a messy closet. The strategy I adopted when I was under treatment was rather simple. I would say to my self, "I can handle or do anything for five minutes." And I did. And when that five minutes was up, I'd say it again and again, as many times as it took to get through it. I got through radiation and chemo that way, often quietly muttering this mantra to myself. MRI machines, laser beams that marked the places the radiation was to go and needles attached to bags of chemicals designed to chase any remaining cancer cells from my body were NO match for that fierce determination to get through the procedure and get back to living. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">And when you think about it, this strategy will work for many different scenarios in life that are not exactly our cup of tea but have to be done any how. So adopting this same philosophy, I thought to myself, what would make doing this job better? I had toyed with the idea of grabbing every single thing in the closet and yanking it out, hangers and all, tossing them willy-nilly around the room. Then I'd spend days going through the piles and piles of clothes and accessories. It would disrupt my life, my sleep and my calm demeanor and I rejected that method almost immediately. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">After mulling over the project, I decided the "I can do anything for five minutes" strategy would work better. So instead of grabbing handfuls of clothing, shoes, purses, scarves and making a horrendous hot mess in the middle of my bedroom, I am going to use the small section at a time method. One shelf, one drawer, one rod at a time will work better, won't cause me instant regret and will make it much likely that I'll finish this project like it needs to be done. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;">Now for the</span><b><span style="color: lime;"> Bad</span>.</b> <span style="color: #073763;">We all have habits and these habits are often what cause us the most problem --- like finding our closets could be making us prime candidates for an appearance on the TLC television show, <u>Hoarders</u>. Personally, I think one of the reasons that show is a success is that after watching an episode or two, most of us can honestly say with relief, Thank goodness I am not THAT bad! That does not mean, however, that we're off the hook. The primary reason my closet looks like it does is simple: I don't follow the rule of a place for everything and everything in its place. So my closet gets really out of hand and messy. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;">So what to do? I have concluded after many years of dealing with my bad habits and the resulting messes that follow that it's a matter of making a strategy to deal with the bad habit before it has a chance to sabotage my efforts to keep my closet tidy. First order of the day is to purge my closet of clothing and accessories that I can't or won't wear any more. Just thinning the herd of so much stuff will help cut down on what has to go back inside. Second strategy is to make the closet so much better than it was that I'll want to keep it that way. To that end, I have decided I want my hangers to match and the mishmash of hangers from the dry cleaner, clothing I have bought and a wild assortment of metal and plastic have got to go! But following up on a tip I read somewhere else, I won't be buying anything for storage or hanging until I have purged first and know what kind and how many I'll need. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;">Now for the <b>Ugly</b>. That would be in the inside of my closet. It's not pretty and certainly not functional in the way it needs to be. Not ready for Hoarders, either, but still not at its best. So I am going to post these pictures as a way of holding myself accountable. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzfQYa2CoORUrlQD429onaBK3YawQge6vO2RHa3-W-Qf-Gag-lzhySp1xCMhrNi1MOezVADeT_Anvxh9Ybb_epwSlbXWW5lAa3LTZAu2WRDtG_GzP6-zGCx7Pbfn2yBxovtL7nf40II_S/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzfQYa2CoORUrlQD429onaBK3YawQge6vO2RHa3-W-Qf-Gag-lzhySp1xCMhrNi1MOezVADeT_Anvxh9Ybb_epwSlbXWW5lAa3LTZAu2WRDtG_GzP6-zGCx7Pbfn2yBxovtL7nf40II_S/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+003.JPG" height="133" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJ37kWwh9Gj5rv9VV9yNrAd-zipLoycHMDkxA_4_CMe9KGhyeN8W6w1yR_4JgbtnChhvPFhMUw5euFWp9_U9J4ukvVraUT_IW4vnwXacjRzSDa58x6Afh-iEcVLOwZ_tHrAfXRTdJhhLl/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJ37kWwh9Gj5rv9VV9yNrAd-zipLoycHMDkxA_4_CMe9KGhyeN8W6w1yR_4JgbtnChhvPFhMUw5euFWp9_U9J4ukvVraUT_IW4vnwXacjRzSDa58x6Afh-iEcVLOwZ_tHrAfXRTdJhhLl/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+001.JPG" height="133" width="200" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #073763;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bHNcgF1v3eeCosdB7JzvQEpj9wQtDTupjTAxdxauPds-RM770c0PtNppVgjAU0VKwd2_loSjrvMeLB3IruNVXanK38vF4aFXaZzS-FYVfsWDrkkzYWnBh9HspdE-eYZiHsW6PY7ZNZw7/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bHNcgF1v3eeCosdB7JzvQEpj9wQtDTupjTAxdxauPds-RM770c0PtNppVgjAU0VKwd2_loSjrvMeLB3IruNVXanK38vF4aFXaZzS-FYVfsWDrkkzYWnBh9HspdE-eYZiHsW6PY7ZNZw7/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+007.JPG" height="133" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlrngXSTsT_tcOB4YLGGMQgI2Pw32jSy2VeT1qwFo9lP_r-bZaSAqxA2iBOJVe_slqpu3LgBmnAU6w6v2RALRItPYs1tCmSS-r4islX1nVw3s8ZLwA8-BPcSPybuGtQubrvZENtmkm0ZN/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlrngXSTsT_tcOB4YLGGMQgI2Pw32jSy2VeT1qwFo9lP_r-bZaSAqxA2iBOJVe_slqpu3LgBmnAU6w6v2RALRItPYs1tCmSS-r4islX1nVw3s8ZLwA8-BPcSPybuGtQubrvZENtmkm0ZN/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+006.JPG" height="133" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjr8MZalITXdpPRIWz6qubl9jSn7LGKAb5CMhtINFvYCXASeh4vtJZGR2j_wN6eBRyxHASzQ3B-6MqW06gt7EAvL_cuDS1ljYcSzdaJqLokQXTMfgLbdImlyXSDBUQ7DQVp34rXi1Egqy/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjr8MZalITXdpPRIWz6qubl9jSn7LGKAb5CMhtINFvYCXASeh4vtJZGR2j_wN6eBRyxHASzQ3B-6MqW06gt7EAvL_cuDS1ljYcSzdaJqLokQXTMfgLbdImlyXSDBUQ7DQVp34rXi1Egqy/s1600/My+Ugly+Closet+005.JPG" height="133" width="200" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #073763;"> Egads, that is bad. OH and ugly. But it had to be done. So you see what I am up against. But the important thing is that I have a strategy to deal with it. I've used the other method of just pulling it all out and making a royal mess and then ended up with a back ache and lots of angst, only to discover six months later that the problem has returned. I think my method this time will be less stressful and I hope will serve as a way to make this problem go away. </span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #073763;"> * Tackle the problem in manageable bites. Adopt the saying, "I can handle anything for five </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> minutes." Set a timer and get to work on one section. When the time is up, assess what you've </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> accomplished and start again. You can do a lot if you stick to it in small segments.</span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> * Start thinking of what your bad habits are. We all have them. If you want the closet to stay </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> neat, you have to have a plan to always return things to their proper place. Come to think of it, </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> that applies to any place you want to stay tidy. Your kitchen, your desk, your car. So a change </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> of bad habits to good ones will go a long way toward making your make over stay made over.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /><span style="color: #073763;">* Find a way to hold yourself accountable. I posted pictures on the internet. That means they</span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> are here forever. Even if my blog ends, these images won't. I am sending a notification to </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> people I know and allowing them to see my nightmare. What would make you accountable?</span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> Sometimes just involving a friend or relative who is willing to encourage you and maybe even </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> help you will do the trick. In fact, I think it's always a good idea to inform someone of your plan</span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> and ask them to check in on you now and then to see how you're doing. Accountability is a </span><br /><span style="color: #073763;"> strong motivator and sometimes is the key to success. </span></div>
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">So now it's time to put my plan into action. Starting bright and early tomorrow morning, I will get out my timer, put on some tunes to listen to while I work and I'll start the purge. My life these days mostly requires jeans, shorts, tee shirts and athletic shoes. The clothes I have left from the days when I was employed outside the home need to find a new home. I purged some things after I retired but clearly not enough. Dressier things that I no longer need or use were donated to the Rescue Mission. Mostly what remains now are a few dressier things I saved --- just in case I needed something dressier. I didn't. And there are some well worn items that have seen better days. Tee shirts that are stained, stretched out and raggy? Well, they gotta go. Things that my sister, Charlotte, used to call <i>Old Comforts</i> are headed for the rag bin. This is going to be a test of my resolve. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">I will report back on this. I promise. And if you have suggestions or hints to make this task more palatable, please leave a comment in the box below. Or just send me an email. I can use all the encouragement and support I can get! </span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0c343d;">Happy Trails,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0c343d;">Marcia </span></b><br />
<br />Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-74640406083213006232014-02-10T17:45:00.000-06:002014-02-10T20:04:46.105-06:00Open Up: Let 'Em Run!!<br />
A<span style="color: #073763;">round our house, the Winter Olympics can't come around too often. We watch many of the sports and enjoy cheering for the United States team, but are not above rooting for a good athlete no matter where they are from. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">Yesterday we happened to be watching some of the downhill skiing and were simply amazed at the speed and danger those skiers were in from the moment they began their downward descent to the gate at the end of the course. You could hear their skies chattering on the icy slope and the cameras followed them closely as the edges of the skies dug into the crusty surface. It was obvious the conditions on the hill were extremely slippery and the skiers had to be ever vigilant to not go flying off the course into a snowbank. With modern cameras (think Go-Pro!) you can all but be on the slope yourself as they follow the competitors moment by moment down the course, wind biting at your face and ears. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">As I watched the skiers yesterday I could almost feel my own leg muscles tense up as they would go into a sharp curve or go down a hill at blinding speeds. I found myself holding my breath as they went airborne from the Russian Trampoline only to land and have to do it all again several times before skidding to a snowy stop at the bottom. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">Now if I am being honest I have to say I have never in my life skied as fast or fearlessly as these athletes competing at the level of an Olympic champion. What I have done is ski on some spectacular slopes in the Colorado Rockies and in Park City, Utah for a period over ten years of my life when I was much younger and before back surgery and arthritis put an end to my skiing days. I know what it feels like to be on top of a snow covered mountain and look across the vastness that makes up those majestic mountains. I've stood in the cold with wind nipping at my cheeks and nearly sucking the breath from my lungs. I watched as others around me swooshed by leaving a trail of their tracks carved into the powdery snow. And on several occasions, I found myself gliding along, enjoying the view and, for a brief time, not thinking about how dangerous it was that I had strapped some waxed boards to my all too heavy (and bone crushing painful) ski boots and then rode on a chair lift up to the highest point on the mountain that I dared to go and<u> then </u>stood on the edge of a slope, pushed myself forward and took off. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-rNV0mEibyXdELqp_57XXVzXyRyKstS3xKZ9TNCh2oKfucVj02HPr0JQ6azapR_mD-5-TFgm-4wM3wKgKwiDS_CU34S7Bl4OSs6zzdH25DL0tugKGRWZnATH5QrqNdSCxdFdZG3BSTNG/s1600/Mar&Rebski2000_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-rNV0mEibyXdELqp_57XXVzXyRyKstS3xKZ9TNCh2oKfucVj02HPr0JQ6azapR_mD-5-TFgm-4wM3wKgKwiDS_CU34S7Bl4OSs6zzdH25DL0tugKGRWZnATH5QrqNdSCxdFdZG3BSTNG/s1600/Mar&Rebski2000_edited-1.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Marcia and Rebecca at Keystone, Co </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">And then one day the worst thing happened. Or at least it seemed that way at the time. I was going along fine, wind in my hair, sun bouncing off of my goggles when I hit an icy patch. They don't talk about "icy patches" too much in ski school. In fact, I don't recall anyone ever mentioning those pesky spots that can happen anywhere along the slope. When the sun is shining and the temperature rises just above freezing, the snow can melt just a little and get soft. As the skiers go over those places they pack the snow down and it gets pressed into a hard, icy mess. If the temperature drops again, you can easily have little surprises waiting for you all. the. way. down. the. hill. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">So I hit one of those icy places and being a relatively inexperienced skier, I started skidding and slipping, pretty much losing control and headed for the snow bank. At some point (I'm not saying when because frankly I don't remember and I don't WANT to remember), I fell and got turned around so I was headed down the hill head first. There was nothing to do but continue to slide and pray that I'd get to the bottom without hitting anything. I slid over further and further and finally was off the trail, headed straight for a pine tree. And then I stopped, my head only inches from the bark of the tree. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVDXdvS1FQGLzrOZR8BMZl0sEd2JcidhvLA-momXxfGhpx_I3HKZ3g2-tZCjOx_FcU1OP7NHiQB6VcRDh6Pq6SP5chGZ-w1Wuow1L6krFKaEZphqtbcx1A9e3mejNFYi9n_KMV40aKRMW/s1600/Lar&RichBreckski2001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVDXdvS1FQGLzrOZR8BMZl0sEd2JcidhvLA-momXxfGhpx_I3HKZ3g2-tZCjOx_FcU1OP7NHiQB6VcRDh6Pq6SP5chGZ-w1Wuow1L6krFKaEZphqtbcx1A9e3mejNFYi9n_KMV40aKRMW/s1600/Lar&RichBreckski2001.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Larry and Rich ready to go!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #073763;">Larry raced over and helped me to my feet. We quickly figured out that the only thing hurt was my pride. Oh and maybe a bruise here and there but mostly it was my ego that got injured. I didn't fall much when I skied, even as a beginner. I don't know why except I was pretty cautious and took my time. Or maybe I was just lucky. This fall felt really humiliating and I was embarrassed, too. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">So we made our way back to the condo and related my tale of woe to my niece, Rebecca, and her husband, Rich. They were sympathetic to my plight and offered hot chocolate and sincere encouragement and thanks that I had not been seriously injured. I put my skies up on the rack in the hall and was thinking, "Well, that is that. No more skiing for me this time." Just the thought made me feel anxious and start breathing faster. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">The next day, I opted out of skiing. There was plenty for me to do at the condo. Laundry, making chili, watching the snow fall, baking brownies. Oh, for sure, my skiing was done for this trip. And I meant it. The mountain had gotten the best of me and I was ready to wave the white flag of surrender. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">But I was not counting on having a mentor or challenger right there in the condo with me. It turned out that Rich was having none of it. He allowed me a day off and then he began talking about going back on the mountain again. I protested but he was not going to give up. He just kept telling me I <i>needed </i>to go back out there and try again. Rich was a really good skier, a confident athlete and sure of himself when he got on the mountain. And in his mind, the thing to do when the mountain kicks you in the behind, is get back out there and stand up for yourself. Take a deep breath and like the Nike ad says, <i>Just do it! </i></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">The next morning, bright and early, we headed out, just the two of us into the frosty air. We made our way over to the ski lift and with my heart in my throat, we got on the lift headed for a modest run not too far up the mountain. I might mention here that ski lifts are not my favorite mode of transportation and I have encountered a few<i> issues </i>with them in the past. My heart was racing as we got near the top because it's a known fact that for many skiers just getting off the lift without suffering an embarrassing prat fall right in front of everybody is their highest achievement. I know this because I have had prat falls in front of everybody and I have also skied, victoriously, off to the side of the lift without humiliating myself. So I have known both feelings. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">We got to the end of the ride, quickly made our exit and began gliding over to the place to start our way down the mountain. I was thinking of begging Rich to just let me go find a gondola to ride back down but somehow I knew by the look in his eyes not to even go there. As I said, he was having none of my excuses or protests. I was practically quaking in my ski boots as we inched our way over to the slope. All the while, Rich was giving me encouraging pats on the back and he kept repeating a little mantra something like, "You can do this." He must have said that ten times and I kept holding back, not wanting to let my skies get anywhere close to that edge. I knew once I went over the edge there was no going back. </span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">For those that don't ski, slopes, especially the easier ones have areas that are slanted downward and then flat places where you can stop, catch your breath and rest before finishing the run. On more difficult ski trails there are fewer flat places and steeper slopes. Rich had wisely brought me to a relatively easy ski slope to try to rebuild my confidence. So we took off again, down the hill.</span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">At the next opportunity I stopped again. It was clear this was going to take some time and I was not really enjoying it one bit. Oh, I made my way down the hill, but joy and exhilaration were the last things on my mind. I was kind of getting annoyed with Rich because he was so determined to help me get past the fall and he was not going to give up easily. He just kept repeating his mantra. I kept thinking, "just get me off this mountain!" This was not going well. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;">We came to another slope, another chance to win back my confidence and prove to myself that I could do it. I hesitantly shoved myself toward the edge of the slope and let them drop over onto the edge when I heard Rich take a breath behind me. I began to cautiously inch my way down the hill, making snow plows as I went. A snow plow is a beginner move taught at the very first ski lesson so you will slow down. You put your skies together in a pie shape wedge and it really does make you go rather slowly down even a slanted run. And that's what I was doing. Snow plowing my way along. It is not a good strategy for skiing with intention of having fun. It's just a way to get the job done until you get to the end. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #073763;">Finally, in exasperation, I am sure, I heard Rich shout, "Open up!! Let 'em run!!" In other words, stop doing that silly snow plow and go for it!! I knew he was going to dog my tracks, repeating that phrase over and over until I did it. So just to get him off my back, I dared to let those skies drift ever so slightly to parallel with each other. As they came into line, my speed began to pick up, as expected. I stood up a little straighter and began to look around me. I saw the trees going by, faster and faster. I heard the noise my skies made as they glided across the glistening snow. The wind blew across my face, reddening my skin and making me know I was alive and <u>on this day</u> I was skiing like I meant it. I was having fun and could feel that tiny thrill of excitement in the pit of my stomach as I approached the orange gates at the bottom of the hill. Rich's last ditch effort had worked! </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcia and Rich--- I did it! </td></tr>
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<span style="color: #073763;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #073763;">I have thought about that day since then many times. I am proud of myself for having the courage to go back to the mountain and prove to myself that I could conquer my fear and overcome the self doubts. And I am really glad that I had that chance, one more time, to ski like I meant it. To have fun. To open up and let 'em run. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">As it so happens, I didn't want to relate this tale from my past just for grins and giggles. No, my dear reader, whoever you are, wherever you are in life, I have a point to make. All of us face mountains that have sidelined us. We all have moments of self doubt and certainty that there is no way we're going back to face those fears. When those times come into your life, you need to remember those Olympic athletes and the mountains they are on. Not one of them was always where they are today. Every single one of them had to learn their sport the hard way. And when the times got hard, the bruises too painful, somehow they had to reach deep down inside and push their way back to the top of the mountain and try again. They had to find a way to say to themselves, "you can do this."</span> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBt55PmhcPCzYLnacWuTepjrflFJJl27L1n-H-n85jUVhWayPwyoaVEdMaEgfNrHVDKGveNOToJsFSJ64yrUwVBHOiDZ-MpGr-P0XGLRD44G71egKEOzxUMZmmpzigmKO6HEouh4xssxvt/s1600/Breckenridgeskiarea2001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBt55PmhcPCzYLnacWuTepjrflFJJl27L1n-H-n85jUVhWayPwyoaVEdMaEgfNrHVDKGveNOToJsFSJ64yrUwVBHOiDZ-MpGr-P0XGLRD44G71egKEOzxUMZmmpzigmKO6HEouh4xssxvt/s1600/Breckenridgeskiarea2001.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Breckenridge, Colorado</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #073763;">I was lucky that day and had a coach, a family member and mentor who could have been out on the mountain skiing for himself. He took time from his own opportunity to ski a much more demanding, difficult ski trail to encourage me to return to the hill. A good lesson was learned that day. Don't give up on yourself and give in to defeat. No matter what your goal, your station in life, your level of education, you can go on to bigger dreams. Put yourself back on that mountain top and give yourself permission to<i> </i><b><i>Open Up: Let 'em run! </i></b></span>Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-27952452292308086352014-02-09T15:09:00.002-06:002014-02-09T15:09:46.028-06:00She Loves You, Yea, Yea, Yea! <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">It had a been a difficult year for me. The previous summer in June of 1963 our family had -- it seemed to me -- rather abruptly packed all of our belongings into a gigantic Mayflower Moving Van and left my hometown of Jackson, Mississippi to go live Deep in the Heart of Texas -- Fort Worth. My Dad had gotten a promotion at work and had the audacity to make the decision to move to Cow Town, as it was quaintly called, without consulting me or my sister, Ginny. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">To say we were upset and unhappy about the move would be a huge understatement. I think we cried all the way to the suburbs of Dallas and at that point I realized we were moving to a very, very different place. I had just finished up the 9th grade at Hardy Junior High School and was really looking forward to my first year of high school the next fall at Provine High School. I thought I'd finally arrived at the perfect age and was eagerly anticipating what life was going to be like now that I had finally gotten to the big time -- high school. All of that had taken a sudden about face as I realized I'd have to start all over making friends, going to a new school and all that a move like that entails. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">I made it through the summer that year without too much angst and met some new friends my age when we began attending a Methodist Church a few blocks away from our house. I was a very shy teenage girl at that point in my life and very self conscious of my Mississippi accent and my Mississippi clothes that suddenly seemed really out of style with what my new peers were wearing. I was approaching my 15th birthday that fall and I let my Mother know right quick that if I didn't get some penny loafers (Bass Weejuns) and a pair of white Levis I would die a mortal death right there. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">I was just getting adjusted to my new hometown and figuring out how to make new friends at my brand new school, Arlington Heights High School. It was a rather affluent school with kids that came from a wide area. Some of the kids I went to school with actually were driven to school in chauffeur driven limousines. A few lived behind gated mansions with servants and amenities I had never heard of, much less seen! Of course, not all of the classmates there were rich and neither was I. But it wasn't long before I found another lonesome soul like me and she and I became fast friends right away. I was beginning to think I might do OK here in this Cow Town, so far removed from my old hometown in nearly every way you could imagine. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">Things were going well until the late fall of that year when the entire nation experienced a loss so great and so unexpected it threw us all into a kind of group mourning and state of grief. It was the assassination of President John F, Kennedy. I was in Mr. Van Meter's biology class when we first heard that there had been a shooting and by the time I got to my English class a few hours later we were told of the president's death. There is no way to describe exactly how it felt but it was a frightening and very scary time for everyone to see our president shot to death and it happened in a town only 30 miles from where we were. The President had been in our own town earlier that morning. We were not prepared for such a devastating turn of events. And for the next two months we all more or less went through the motions of living and tried to go on with our lives but it was extremely difficult.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">In January of 1964, a buzz began to go around especially among the youth of the nation. There was a new musical group that was the latest sensation in Europe. They had an odd name and their clothing and hair made as much news as their music. Some of their music began to show up on local radio stations and word of a trip to appear in person in the United States began to circulate. For a nation still in mourning, it was a light hearted turn to something that would help us transition back to living again. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">That group was The Beatles and once they came on the musical scene, the world has never been the same. They influenced music for sure, but they also brought in new hair styles, clothing and new ways of thinking. Over the years that they were together, their music evolved, too, and each fad of the way they dressed morphed into another. Parents lamented their long hair, which by today's standards was anything but long. Schools dealt with how long was too long and what to do with the boys who dared to break the rules for acceptable hair styles. The Beatles were pretty outspoken, too, and the youth of the world began to listen to not only their music but some of their opinions about politics and even religion. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">By February 1964, the arrangements had been made and the Beatles were scheduled to appear on the very popular variety show, The Ed Sullivan Show. Mr. Sullivan was famous for having a wide range of entertainers on his show featuring everything from opera singer, Robert Peters to dancing bears and the Line Backers from the Green Bay Packers. Anybody who <u>was</u> anybody showed up on Ed Sullivan! So the word spread like wildfire that<b> THE BEATLES</b> were going to be on Ed Sullivan. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">My sister, Ginny, and I were so excited to see our new found singing idols that we actually stayed home from our church youth group the first Sunday night they were on. We were fairly quivering with excitement when the time came for them to come on stage. Girls in the studio audience were swooning and crying, something we had never witnessed before. My father, unabashedly a musical snob, was not impressed and rather vocally told us how he felt about the whole thing! Undeterred, we watched with rapt attention and thus, Beatle-mania broke out right in our living room and truly, all across the country and eventually world wide.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">So on this 50th Anniversary of that occasion, I can't help but look back in fondness with all that took place during that time. I was a shy, awkward teenage girl, searching for who I was and wanted to be. I had been plunked down into a totally new situation and was finding my footing in a new place. New friends, new way of talking, new way of dressing. And layered on top of that to become politically aware of how quickly things in our world could change, it was almost too much for a 15 year old girl to endure. The Beatles were a phenomenon that came along at the right time and place. They sparked our imagination and made us smile again. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">Thanks to John, Paul, George and Ringo, I turned back to being a teenager again. I talked with my best friend late into the night about which one of the Fab Four was the cutest. We read our Beatle magazines from cover to cover and felt like we knew every aspect of their lives. And one Sunday afternoon my Dad took me by the local record shop where I bought my very first Beatle album, <u>Meet the Beatles</u>. I thought <i>nothing</i> could ever top that. For a teenage girl, I thought I'd finally arrived and that all was right with the world. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;">Every kid needs something to remember their teen years for that they will take long into their adult years. For me, one of the highlights will be remembering my fascination, indeed, love for the Beatles. They brought me great joy and happiness at a time in my life when I needed it. They were the first real recording artists that I knew much about and wanted to buy their music. The bonds of friendship that I had with my first friend I made in Fort Worth were knit from the common thread of our love of the Beatles. Even all these years later I can hear their early recordings and smile and remember the words like I knew them at 15. She loves you, yea, yea, yea.... Indeed. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #20124d;"> </span></span><br />
Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-47685944670641185102014-01-27T16:59:00.001-06:002014-01-28T11:52:41.042-06:00Random Thoughts on a Winter Day<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">I've been away from here for a while so I thought I'd just post a few things that were dancing through my head this afternoon. Our weather just got upgraded to a <i>Winter Storm Warning</i>. We've been on a <i>Winter Storm Watch</i> since yesterday and we expected the upgrade so it's not exactly a surprise. Anyhow, the thought of real, honest to goodness winter weather headed our way took me back a few decades to my youth. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">I grew up in Jackson, Mississippi, not exactly the place most likely to have severe winter weather. But every now and then we'd have an epic (for Jackson) snow storm. My mother and older sister often told me the tale of when my baby sister was born how it snowed them in and our house was the only one on the block with heat because my father had thrown a bath mat over the gas meter, thus preventing it from freezing up. They told me about neighborhood parties with my parents' best friends because no one could get to work. They trudged through the snow to our friend's house and proceeded to have an impromptu party. They cooked large pots of chili, played cards and just had a really good time while the kids all played out in the snow, made snowmen and had snowball fights. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">When I was about 10 years old, we had one of those unusual, once-in-a-decade snow storms in Jackson. The wind howled and the temperature plummeted to single digits. School was cancelled, of course, and with the unexpected holiday, every kid in our neighborhood was running around outside like Daffy Duck. We did every cliched thing you've ever heard of when kids get around snow --- some of us for the first time in our lives. We stuck our tongues out and caught snowflakes, made snow angels and played until near exhaustion lobbing snowballs across the yard to our "snow forts". It was such pure fun it brings tears to my eyes to remember the innocence that surrounded us that day. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Later we lived in Ft. Worth, Texas and one year a snow storm blew through that had us huddled in front of our fireplace, wearing parkas and mittens to keep warm. The blustery wind kept gusting up under our house and would blow out the flame on our gas heater. So for all practical purposes we had no heater in our house and the only source of heat was the fireplace in our living room. It was a shock to our southern souls to have true winter weather thrust upon us. It did not shock us so much that we forgot what to do in the snow, however.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">My sister, Ginny, decided we needed to build a snowman . She seldom ever did things that were ordinary and neither was her idea of a snowman. We rolled the snow in our yard into three snow balls ranging from small to large. Then we stacked them on top of one another. It was at this point that Ginny decided that our creation<u> had</u> to be a lady. She ran in the house and got a scarf and other accessories to dress our lady and for some reason, I seem to remember she even figured out a way to give her earrings! Like I said, Ginny never did anything half-way. When it came time to finish her off, she started gathering up more snow and before I knew it she had added arms to our lady. And she was not content to just put arms. She added hands and sculpted fingers so our snow lady had her hands on her hips! Sassy, she was.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">We had snow so seldom when I was a kid and when we did, it was always an occasion. It meant a day or two off from school. Daddy stayed home from work. Mama would let us do things that we ordinarily did not get to do. Our town got transformed to a winter wonderland. It was almost magical. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">I made a batch of Peanut Butter Cookies this afternoon and if I am being honest I have to admit it's because of the prospect of winter weather. If I can figure out a way to make a Low Carb Fudge, I'll make that, too. And why is that? Because of all the memories made during those times of snowy, winter days, one thing I remember us doing always was making goodies and treats. Daddy made snow ice cream for us. Mama let us make fudge and sometimes it actually turned out right. But frequently it didn't. We never let a little thing like fudge that wouldn't set up deter us, however. We ate soft, chocolaty goodness right off the plate with a big spoon and then grinned big fudgey smiles at each other. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Those were some happy times that came tumbling back into my mind this afternoon. And all because we're under a Winter Storm Warning! Good memories on a January afternoon. Our weather is going downhill soon. The wind has already shifted around from the south so that now it's coming out of the north. The cold air is going to invade our town. But I'm prepared! I have those cookies cooling on the counter. At the first sign of a snow flake I'll probably run around outside like Daffy Duck. It will be like old times and it'll make me very happy. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Do you have fond memories from your childhood that can come back in an instant? What about traditions associated with those memories? For me, making those treats is as natural to me as putting on a hat and gloves to play in the snow. It is just something I automatically think about doing. The Peanut Butter Cookies are easy and if you want to make a batch here is what you need:</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">1 Cup of Peanut Butter, creamy or crunchy</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">1 Cup of Splenda Sweetener (or Splenda Brown Sugar Blend)</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">1 Egg</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">1 tsp. Vanilla </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Pre-heat your oven to 350. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Mix the peanut butter with the egg. You can do this by hand with a large spoon. Add the Splenda and vanilla until well mixed. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Using a teaspoon or small scoop, make a small ball of the peanut butter mixture, about the size of a walnut. Place on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper or non-stick aluminum foil. About a dozen will fit on a standard size cookie sheet. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Use a fork dipped in the Splenda to make the hash marks on the top of the cookie mixture. The Splenda will help keep the fork from sticking to the cookie. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Bake for about 12 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Make about one dozen small cookies. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">This is a flour-less, sugarless cookie. Low Carb. Be sure to use a peanut butter without added sugar if you want to limit the sugar in the cookies. I found Smucker's Natural Peanut Butter to have no added sugar and it worked fine in this recipe. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">I am still going to hunt for a Low Carb Fudge recipe and if I find one that works, I'll post it here. If I have to, I'll eat it with a spoon and I'll tell you that, too!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Hope you all have happy memories from back in the day. I know I do and it was fun to go back to that happy place again. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Happy Trails,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #0b5394;">Marcia </span></b> Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-80687313384519899602013-11-18T12:55:00.000-06:002014-01-28T11:53:08.077-06:00Don't Let Your Car "Brake" Your Day! <span style="color: #660000;">Not very long ago, Larry and I set off on our very first real road trip. We've made trips before, obviously. But this one was different because we were going a very long distance in our own car. No rental car this trip! It was a trip that ended up putting nearly 4,000 miles on our trusty Camry. We knew it was going to be a lengthy trip because we planned to be gone for nearly 3 weeks and required several overnight stays along the way. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">I started planning for this trip some time back in the summer. I spent a lot of time on the internet scouting out hotel rooms, places we wanted to see along the way and what we could do once we got to our destination---Massachusetts. Thanks to wonderful hosting by Rich and Rebecca, we got to see parts of Vermont, Massachusetts and New York. They were our traveling companions for that portion of the trip and made a lot of grand adventures possible! </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Before we could pack our bags, load up the car and head out on this fun trip, Larry was already thinking about preparing<b> our car</b> for the trip. Fortunately, he didn't wait until the last minute to do that. A full two weeks before we were to leave he began maintenance and check ups that anyone should think about before taking a road trip. He replaced belts, hoses, changed the oil and checked fluid levels. He even gave the ol' buggy a good wash and wax! Starting ahead of time ultimately saved us a lot of aggravation and potential problems that could have interfered with our plans. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Larry is a guy who knows a lot about preventive maintenance because he spent the lion's share of his career doing that for Fed Ex. The vans that he kept running and in service were on a regular maintenance schedule. But it wasn't just the <i>scheduled</i> maintenance that was important. The eyes and ears for every day those vans went out on the road came from the drivers who were required to do a<i> pre</i> and <i>post</i> trip inspection. Before they ever left the building, they were expected to do a walk around for their vehicle. They looked at it, noted anything that didn't seem right. They were supposed to make sure the vehicle was ready for service and tell the mechanic if anything seemed amiss. Then they listened and watched for things while on the road and finally, wrote it all up at the end of the day so the mechanic could check it out with more detail and experienced eyes. This system works very well for major fleets and is one that you can adopt to make your car last longer and not fail you when you need it to work properly --- which come to think of it is EVERY time you get in it to go somewhere! </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">How many times do you just get in your car, crank it up and let 'er roll? You only pay attention when the noise coming from under the hood is literally screaming at you or it fails to start. Or you give a passing glance to the dash board and don't make it a habit to note whether there are lights on, other than the gas gauge giving you a nudge that you might need to refuel. If this is you, then maybe the following suggestions will make your driving experience a bit less of a hassle and more pleasurable. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Cars today are amazing devices and, like most of the other things in our lives, are run by computers. They make our cars run more efficiently, keep us safer and, in some of the newest models, have even taken over things like parking and braking to keep us a safe distance from the next vehicle. When you look under the hood of most cars, the entire engine compartment is filled edge to edge with almost no room for a hand to get in there to repair something that is broken or malfunctioning. What you need to realize is that even with all those computers and mechanical devices the most important component is <b>YOU</b>. If you don't heed the warnings, the lights and other ways your car has to tell you that something is wrong (those new sounds!!), you could still end up stranded on the side of the road. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">On a regular basis, you should be looking at your tires, your oil and water. Unlike the Fed Ex driver, you probably don't need to do this every time you go out, but every couple of weeks is usually sufficient. When you crank your car, listen to it. Preferably <b>without</b> the radio or air conditioning on as they can mask important sounds. Does it sound like it normally does? Did it take longer to crank than it usually does? If so, what did it sound like? Make note of these things because you will need that information if you believe it needs to be checked out by your mechanic. Don't ignore changes as they are clues to what is going on out of your sight, under the hood. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Once you get going, does your car move correctly? Do you notice any unusual vibrations or shimmying as you move along? When your tires are not aligned properly it can make your car sway as it rolls along. It might be harder to steer, too, or pull in one direction or the other. Improper alignment can make your tires wear out faster than they should and can interfere with the comfort of your ride. If you notice unusual lumpiness as you ride along, it may be that your tire has a serious issue going on that requires a more thorough exam by a mechanic or tire store. Before we left on our road trip, Larry did a visual examination of our tires and deemed them to be OK. But to be sure, he took the car in to be aligned <b>and</b> so they could put it on a lift for a better look at the tires. Imagine his surprise to be told that one of the tires had a serious problem that would have almost certainly caused us a problem after we were under way. As it was, because he started the check up process WELL AHEAD of our trip, he had plenty of time to replace the tires so we started our adventure with less of a chance that a blown tired would ruin our day and possibly our trip. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Now about those warning lights and gauges that we depend on to warn us about issues under the hood......On a trip last fall to Apalachicola, I learned something that I never knew before. We had been traveling along nicely, enjoying the scenery near Panama City when all of a sudden an amber CHECK ENGINE light came on. Larry noticed it almost immediately and mentioned it to me. I was sort of panicked, wondering what it meant and if our trip had just hit a big snag. I figured he would pull over and stop immediately. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">I was wrong. He did stop, but it was a little way down the road where we could pull off into a shopping center parking lot. He got out, did a quick check and then got back in and we continued our trip. He explained to me that <span style="color: #f6b26b;">AMBER</span> lights mean one thing, while <span style="color: red;">RED</span> lights are another matter altogether. This, I never knew! Amber lights are a way to let you know that something is not right and that it should be checked out. As a rule, they do NOT mean you need to stop ASAP. Just make note of the light and, at your earliest convenience , take the car to the shop to find out the source of the problem.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Please note that another thing you can do is take your car to almost any of the national auto parts houses (Auto Zone, O'Reilly's or Advanced Auto) and they can hook your car up to a laptop computer that can get the code your car's computer is giving and tell you what it means. Most of those places do not make the repairs but can tell you what needs to be done which will be useful information when you take your car to the repair shop. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: red;">RED LIGHTS</span>. They are a whole other ball game when it comes to your car's well being. If you ever see a red light come on, you have to find a way to get off the road and quickly. Something is really wrong under the hood and that RED LIGHT is giving you the signal it's time to shut things down. If you ignore it, chances are pretty good that your car is going to simply stop running and you're going to stop anyhow. If you see a red light, start planning immediately how to safely get to the side of the road or to an exit if you can. You probably will need road side assistance and possibly a tow truck to get you to a repair shop, but by acting quickly and appropriately, you could save yourself thousands of dollars in repair expenses! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">And speaking of repairs, if you are ever in a situation where you are advised to have an expensive repair done to your car, always think about getting a second opinion. Ask the first mechanic to write down what the problem is and what they recommend to fix it. Then find another mechanic, take the car to that person and get another opinion. Do not tell them what the first mechanic recommended, just what the symptoms are. When you are being told that an expensive repair is necessary, you surely want to know that it was, indeed, necessary. So don't be afraid to seek out another opinion when it's your money and your car. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Finally, one last bit of advice from the resident mechanic here on the Funny Farm: Try to park in the same place when you arrive back at home. Why? Because every now and then (two weeks) you need to move the car a bit ---- back it up, pull it forward, whatever works in your drive way or parking space. Then look where your car was parked. Is there fluid on the ground? If so, do you notice any color to it? Normal air conditioning drips will not be colored and will dry up shortly. Totally normal, by the way. If you notice<b> color</b> in the drainage, take note of what color it is. Fluids that your car uses to function come in all colors---red, yellow and green. Oil leaks will often give off a rainbow effect. Make a note of the color of the leakage so when you take your car to be checked ----- you<b><i> ARE</i></b> going to get that checked, aren't you? ---- you can tell your repair shop service writer (the guy or gal writing up your ticket) what you found had dripped out of your car's engine compartment. This gives them a starting place to look and will save them time and possibly save you some money. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Most of us today would be lost without our vehicles. We depend on them to get us to our jobs, run errands and just take us from <i>here to there</i>! You can make your car last longer, cost less to maintain and reduce the stress in your life by simply taking the time to maintain your vehicle. Listen to what it is telling you. Pay attention to the signals it is giving you. Then act on them and don't wait until you're stranded to discover you have a problem. You might even save a lot of money by getting attention where it is needed before something is ruined or has to be replaced. Moral of this story is: do your due diligence when it comes to your car and it will make your car last longer, cost less and give you less heartache. You might even have an amazing road trip to tell about!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Happy Motoring! Happy Trails!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Marcia </span><br />
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Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-34558470549579426772013-08-15T10:32:00.000-05:002013-08-15T10:32:21.742-05:00What's In Our Future and the Future of our Grandchildren?<span style="color: #660000;">I</span> <span style="color: #660000;">wasn't doing anything unusual for a Wednesday afternoon. I walked into my utility/laundry room and took a load of wet laundry out of the washer and transferred it to the dryer. I tossed in a fabric softener sheet and after pressing two buttons, the machine sprang to life and began tumbling the clothes inside. In less than an hour, they were dry, smelling fresh and clean and ready to fold. But that is not anything too spectacular or out of the norm around here. I do this no less than 5 or 6 times a week and sometimes more than that. I would go so far as to say I take these labor saving devices for granted. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Which brings me to my next thought. In my grandmother's day, doing laundry <em><span style="color: #38761d;">was </span></em>a big deal. It required a lot of hard labor for the better part of a day and maybe more than that if it was for a large family. There was water to be heated, sometimes over a fire located outside. There were washboards and harsh soaps and a woman was lucky if her hands were not sore and red after doing her family's laundry. I remember my mother telling me that it was very common to wear things more times than just once....understandably so, given the labor intensive methods used to do the laundry. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SHkIFh9rBMRQflbGEf0D6WGKcZhDQgKeRHCj3XwJfm9vPb5QiYKEw0VIj53Amy1jHh0sesE23plKZvVQfGfaN_scWy0OJrBiIhxN9urymw87iadxYKs_GShHfmBEB8npmzYGUWyHmy9c/s1600/wash+tub+and+board.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #660000;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SHkIFh9rBMRQflbGEf0D6WGKcZhDQgKeRHCj3XwJfm9vPb5QiYKEw0VIj53Amy1jHh0sesE23plKZvVQfGfaN_scWy0OJrBiIhxN9urymw87iadxYKs_GShHfmBEB8npmzYGUWyHmy9c/s1600/wash+tub+and+board.jpg" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRkJDGTeiYBNCrGqYBxvHpB6dI_n_jX6w16eIqq_-amivupJphK0wDgX_AiGyT0to631ZGnmvhb6J2p_K9TDGYufSFd1mcmBTihb7VuWNlVtOBuOfSVHw4NDuCWYsglCZDZgpLfJ9CLk8l/s1600/lye+soap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #660000;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRkJDGTeiYBNCrGqYBxvHpB6dI_n_jX6w16eIqq_-amivupJphK0wDgX_AiGyT0to631ZGnmvhb6J2p_K9TDGYufSFd1mcmBTihb7VuWNlVtOBuOfSVHw4NDuCWYsglCZDZgpLfJ9CLk8l/s1600/lye+soap.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;">As time went on, machines to do the wash and then wring them out before hanging them on a clothes line came to be the norm for many families. My mother often told of getting an automatic washer, the kind that had a round window in it so you could see the clothes agitate, when I was born. With a newborn baby and disposable diapers twenty years away, a washing machine was her idea of heaven on earth! Twenty something years later, when Larry and I moved to Mobile and bought our first house, we also got a brand new, <span style="color: #38761d;"><strong>avocado green</strong></span>, matching set, Kenmore washer and dryer. I was thrilled, having done laundry next door at my mother's house and hanging the clothes on the outside clothes line for nearly 10 years.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL53eAZ9-vRj58Who-OBsCXK27LoCZfWqAEEcHG-SJ_sC04KxU8SR6Bnnx5PwRXr7km7FS67MfbEbvq40PxLYsq4EdFnqe36rXw3qTY1Gk0OWo31KvMn7SVC8aE38NY5Xi8SD7hHLAbKrc/s1600/westinghouse+1048+washer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #660000;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL53eAZ9-vRj58Who-OBsCXK27LoCZfWqAEEcHG-SJ_sC04KxU8SR6Bnnx5PwRXr7km7FS67MfbEbvq40PxLYsq4EdFnqe36rXw3qTY1Gk0OWo31KvMn7SVC8aE38NY5Xi8SD7hHLAbKrc/s1600/westinghouse+1048+washer.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;">1948 Westinghouse Washer</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #660000;"></span><span style="color: #660000;">I mention all these things to say it's an amazing world we live in. When I consider the world my grandmothers lived in, I'm know they wouldn't recognize the digitized, computerized world we live in today. Our cars all have black boxes and computer chips that control everything from communications to parallel parking. Many of us carry around portable telephones that are capable of calling just about any place on the planet and can instantly connect us to the internet. A large portion of us conduct our lives via these small boxes including paying bills, buying everything under the sun and communicating with anyone and everyone. They don't call them "smart phones" for nothing! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Imaging the difference between the world I live in today and comparing it even to the life I led as a child is like night and day. We take it all for granted and our day to day existence is impacted by the things that inhabit our world from the moment we wake up until we nod off at night. So it is only natural to wonder---what's next? Will our world continue to change as much as it has in the time I've been alive? </span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Well, I say it sure looks like it will! A few days ago a young man named Elon Musk, a truly amazing guy with an imagination that must give him some wild dreams, introduced the world to his latest idea. Musk is famous for founding Tesla Motor Company and a thing called PayPal, that many of us use regularly to make our purchases safely and easily on the internet. His idea is called a <strong><em>Hyperloop, </em></strong>a futuristic concept for transporting people via a high speed tube system between Los Angeles and San Francisco. It takes the notion of high speed rail and pushes it up a notch or two. On first read of the 57 page document that outlines his concept, one might be tempted to think he is way out on limb and that it's something that far eclipses our ability to execute. A capsule inside a tube that hurtles people at 700 mph between cities? Surely this is the stuff of science fiction? </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBthjlfp8lushvYpKS5iyIlKjodFu1exTwWWQHBggknbFGh8GIwJOovM1mHZEVd4KFX1cb1dtzPb5cEX5ntj3YR1wAuiDh-_-Um-blopdRj1H0lxMXa1xCedKWDOArk1ZZxpe3fCiEQHyE/s1600/hyperloop+tube.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #660000;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBthjlfp8lushvYpKS5iyIlKjodFu1exTwWWQHBggknbFGh8GIwJOovM1mHZEVd4KFX1cb1dtzPb5cEX5ntj3YR1wAuiDh-_-Um-blopdRj1H0lxMXa1xCedKWDOArk1ZZxpe3fCiEQHyE/s1600/hyperloop+tube.png" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;">Elon Musk's Hyperloop</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #660000;">In a word, NO! It is out of the mind of dreamers like Musk that we got all of the things that currently inhabit our lives. The first airplanes, automobiles, computers and microwave ovens all had to go through the phases of people<em> </em>thinking they were<em> not</em> serious concepts. I am sure the first people to actually go airborne in an airplane went aloft with their hearts in their throats. And so it is with Musk's plan to reinvent how we travel whether it's from one city to another and even to how we will move around the globe....or dare I say it? Across the galaxy?! With his plan one might consider that a trip to Australia, currently a 24 hour plus<em> ordeal</em> of planes crisscrossing continents and oceans will be reduced to a few hours in complete comfort and with little or no stress. We will be able to go there as easily and conveniently as we go to see our Granny who lives a state or two away from us. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;">Gavin at the microscope.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #660000;"></span><span style="color: #660000;">I think it's safe for me to say that the world I live in today is apt to change just as drastically as the world did for my Grandmothers. We tend to think we live in the epitome of high times and forget that the dreamers and inventors of today are no less curious and imaginative than the Thomas Edisons and Wright Brothers of yesteryear. The potential and possibilities are endless.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiemHK-A0nfYgtHtRGWoUyNLYgd-HjAedK63dQA4iSlfUy7ON1TaSJWtxKAfUGJdKrObqFK9nmYG98xrk-j3Y3Gl5XLa1l3GLh5U4lk2LgPA5LqY7VQaAz7gNpXqe8z93SbzgOCwwpyPMOa/s1600/Luci+reading.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #660000;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiemHK-A0nfYgtHtRGWoUyNLYgd-HjAedK63dQA4iSlfUy7ON1TaSJWtxKAfUGJdKrObqFK9nmYG98xrk-j3Y3Gl5XLa1l3GLh5U4lk2LgPA5LqY7VQaAz7gNpXqe8z93SbzgOCwwpyPMOa/s200/Luci+reading.jpg" width="150" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;">Luci reading & thinking.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #660000;">So keep your eyes open and pay attention to what's coming. When my grandchildren look back at how their world has changed, they will view today's best inventions with the same impression we think of the Model T and the washboard and lye soap. It will all look so primitive to their eyes. I hope that the news of Mr. Musk's plans for the future sparks their imagination, too. I'd like to think that one of them is thinking<em> right now</em> of something new, unheard of that will change their world in ways we may not be able to fathom. I sure do hope I live long enough to see their ideas come to life. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbMZWiCuRdbdSNJe5h62MwLNPIuUxpQFJk__lBlHBoXzvHQPrDSCof0QVX78NJOEzxWG55fZu2KKZ3-MMviJCPbcrJHoQJgVG0XeApW5NdOjxMO7PGqPSXCXhesG6QSsC2T2Y3Y8XId4f/s1600/Ben+and+Brian+inventing+things.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #660000;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbMZWiCuRdbdSNJe5h62MwLNPIuUxpQFJk__lBlHBoXzvHQPrDSCof0QVX78NJOEzxWG55fZu2KKZ3-MMviJCPbcrJHoQJgVG0XeApW5NdOjxMO7PGqPSXCXhesG6QSsC2T2Y3Y8XId4f/s200/Ben+and+Brian+inventing+things.jpg" width="150" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;">Ben and Brian inventing.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #660000;">Happy Trails and to my Grandchildren~~~keep on dreaming and thinking of how to change your world!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;">Marcia AKA Grammy</span></div>
Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-36699703488618748642013-08-10T10:43:00.000-05:002013-08-10T10:43:13.352-05:00Is Your Inner Critic Holding You Back?<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">In my last post I wrote about being happy. No doubt about it, finding true happiness often eludes many of us and the ones who do find it may not be fully aware of what combination of things they did to get to that special state of mind. I think some of the things I discussed last post most definitely figure into the whole process. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">To recap: Making sure you don't put a lot of stress and difficult images into your mind is a place to start. Keeping abreast of the news is important but determining how much is enough should be a priority. Taking time to relax and appreciate the beauty around you is another way to ease your way into a more blissful state of mind. And no matter what strategy you use takes effort on your part. Getting to a better place mentally won't come looking for you. You probably are going to have to initiate that task. If you figure that out, you'll be ahead of the game! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">But truthfully, those are just a few of the strategies you must employ to figure out what works for you. I guess what may ride over the whole process is a thing called your<strong><span style="color: #351c75;"> <em>inner critic</em></span></strong>. Those of you who write or paint or have attempted to do something out of your comfort zone know exactly what I am talking about. It's that nagging little voice way in the back of your head that whispers all the reasons why you can't do something. It's the thing that convinces you that you're wasting your time and that you should give up. Often it does an effective job of shutting you down BEFORE you even begin!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">Inner critics sometimes start in our childhood. I suspect that many of us can point to a specific person who influenced us or discouraged us in ways that may have been subtle but effective ways of shutting down the creative or inventive process. Perhaps it was a demand for perfection so that <u>nothing you did</u> was ever good enough. Or even a suggestion that the idea was not really yours or original. Little cuts here and there that may have eroded your confidence in your own ability may have happened at home or in school. I have examples in my own life where an elementary school teacher was directly connected to my math phobia that dogged me all the way through graduate school. And conversely, I had another elementary teacher who instilled in me pride in being such a fast reader. So there was a mixed bag from early in my life of feeling really insecure about myself and my proficiency with math, as well as the boost I got from another teacher regarding my ability to read. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">Some of us have parents who were the source of our insecurities and fears about putting our work on display for judgment by others. And while most parents had no intention of doing us harm, they may have said or done things unwittingly that ended up making us feel less worthy of praise. Ironically many times that behavior stems from a real desire to see us succeed and just goes awry in the execution. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">So while we sometimes can easily see where that inner critic came from, it's harder to deal with and figure out how to coexist with that little inner voice that fills in for that parent or teacher who brought you together in the first place. What can be done when you're sitting at the keyboard or the easel feeling the urge to be "creative"? What can you do when you're asked to be a speaker at your club or church and your knees immediately begin to shake and go to Jell-O under you? How about when you're offered a promotion or position of leadership? How can you stop the negative thoughts from filling you with self doubt? </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">First you have to have mechanisms in place to help you when the self doubt creeps in and dominates the thought processes. My older sister, Charlotte, was a woman of many talents. She was smart, she could sing, a natural born leader. There was not much she attempted in her life that she didn't do and do very well. But she struggled with insecurity and negative self talk about many things. One of her many talents was her ability to sew. I don't mean simple projects that you learn in Home Ec. She took on things like lined suits, prom dresses for her daughter and new drapes for her living room. Many people looked at her work in complete awe of what she made with her own two hands! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">The problem for Charlotte was that her insecurity made her focus on the glaring flaws that she was sure were there for all to see. No matter how many people told her that what she had made was lovely or a great execution of the project, her eyes would zoom to the one spot that she perceived was not quite right. Eventually, she developed a technique for dealing with this that worked like a charm. Once she completed a dress or a pair of slacks, she immediately would put the project on a hanger and put it in the closet for a few days. And she left it there until she was ready to take the new creation out for inspection when she knew she would have a less critical eye. The time spent letting it hang in the closet served as a buffer for her so that when she looked at it again, she saw the whole outfit and not just the places she thought weren't right. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">So a strategy for those who struggle with their creations, whether it's a painting or a poem is to put it aside for a few days after it is completed. Don't think about it, don't evaluate it during that time. Then after sufficient time has passed, bring it out and look at it with new eyes. I have done this with things I have written and been surprised to find that I actually like what I find, even if I put it away thinking it was worthless. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;"> Another way to deal with inner critics telling you that you're not any good, you have no talent or you're wasting your time is to learn to recognize that it's the <strong>voice in your head</strong> telling you these things. No one else. Are you putting off doing a project? Are you finding OTHER things to do that take you away from what you intended to do? Are you putting other priorities to the head of the list of things you want to do so that your special project is still in the mix but just never seems to get done? Maybe what's going on is that you are hearing that voice but are not recognizing its impact on what you are doing. The inner critic can and will steer you astray --- if you let it.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">Start paying attention to the voice and have a conversation with yourself. Is what the voice is telling you true? And even if it <u>is </u>true, does it really matter if what you want to do is important to you? There comes a time in all of our lives when we have to stand up to inner critics that tell us we're not good enough, not talented enough or that what we want isn't important. You may have to come to a point where you're willing to banish the inner critic and do what you want anyhow. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #674ea7;">If you are serious about tackling the inner critic in your head, there are many books, websites and self help materials to give you even more strategies to try. In addition to those resources, you will find that there are professionals who specialize in helping people reach their full potential. A quick Google search will probably bring you more things than you can read in a month. The trick is to recognize what's going on in your head and figure how where you need to go from there. Identifying the problem is<strong> <em><span style="color: #674ea7;">a start</span></em></strong> and how you solve it has many solutions.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #ea9999;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7;">As I said in the beginning, a search for happiness is not easy and can be a complex matter. If you want to succeed in getting to a happier place in your life, it may involve pushing yourself to do or think in new ways. If you have an inner critic that is holding you back or making things harder for you, it may be time to think about what YOU want and how to get around the obstacles. Find the courage to face up to them and think about what's waiting for you if you get the nerve to just go for it. You may be surprised at what you find and what you can do.</span></span> <br />
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<strong><span style="color: #20124d;">Happy Trails,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #20124d;">Marcia</span></strong> Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-31864706943935668542013-07-28T13:50:00.000-05:002013-07-28T13:50:33.617-05:00The Happy Camper Confesses All....<h3>
Well, to be honest, I have been missing in action around here for some time. No excuses other than time flies and it's easy to put things off or ignore what needs attention. That in no way means I haven't had things swirling around in my head that should have somehow made it to this page. So here I am again. Maybe some of what I'm thinking today will resonate with you.</h3>
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It's been said by some that I am "the proverbial happy camper". My inclination is to hunt for the silver lining and I've been known to find some bizarre glimmers of hope even when in a dire situation. I recall sitting in the waiting room before my first radiation treatment and my sister and I were engaging in a little "gallows humor" by wryly opining that there might be a chance I'd glow in the dark when they got finished with me. We both laughed at that notion and for a moment we could forget why I was there in the first place. A moment of levity and humor can help take the sting out of almost anything. </h4>
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But the real truth is that I am as subject to dark nights of the soul, endless self-analysis and moments of pure self pity---just like many of you who will read this blog post. As much as I would like to characterize myself as a happy camper, I know that it takes a lot of effort and tricks on my part to pull myself out of the doldrums and get to that happy place. It doesn't just happen naturally, although I confess if you do the tricks long enough, they start to become more natural to you. </h4>
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I've been thinking about those tricks and methods I use on a regular basis. What has worked for me? Are there things I do for myself that I think someone else might find useful in their journey to a happier place? The truth of the matter is we live in a difficult world and we can use all the help we can muster to figure our way through a tangled and Byzantine path. Indeed, whole books have been written on living a happier life, dealing with adversity and just achieving a sense of peace. </h4>
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My intent today is certainly not that grandiose or meant to be a complete guide to that mythical place called happiness. It is meant to be a<em> starting place</em> for you to begin unraveling the tangled mess to something that works for you. Not everything I suggest will work, but maybe one little trick, one idea will prod you to take the first step. </h4>
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First, I believe it's important to look at what you surround yourself with on a day to day basis. Do you fill your head with negative information? Are you saturated with compelling news stories that make you worried and afraid for your personal safety? Do you spend too much time dwelling on things that you cannot control? These are not strategies that will take you from misery to happiness. In fact, they are a guarantee you will get more of the same. So inventory what you put into your head. This is not a suggestion to eliminate the nightly news or to never keep up with what's going on around you. The idea is to take it in <u>measured</u> doses and then stop when you begin to obsess about it or fret too much. </h4>
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Second, finding joy in your life takes a bit of effort sometimes and you need to realize that it can be right under your very nose and you will miss it. If you stay focused on negativity, the good, positive things that are there for the taking will elude you. Start right in your own backyard. </h4>
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Yesterday I was walking through the family room and happened to walk over to the back door. It is all glass so I was looking out in the backyard not expecting to see much of anything that isn't always there. I stood there looking for no more than a few seconds when I noticed a flash of red feathers go streaking through the back flower bed. Moments later I saw that it was two birds who were obviously searching for bugs among the plants. They put on quite the show as they flitted and swooped among the plants, pecking and hunting for the tiniest morsel of buggy goodness! I couldn't help myself and literally laughed out loud when I saw them. It was such a small moment of unexpected joy, but it made my day! </h4>
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Third, finding the unexpected nuggets of joy make involve taking you out of your back yard. Some extra effort may have to be put forth on your part. I was looking on Facebook the other day when I noticed some photographs posted by my niece while she was visiting in Yosemite National Park. She and her family were spending a leisurely moment taking in the grandeur of Glacier Point and I must admit the view was breath taking. It was one of those moments that will stand out in their memory with or without the photographs to refresh their recall of the majesty. When you travel and observe the beauty of the world around you, that's a fantastic way to lift your spirits and find some inner peace.</h4>
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But you may be saying to yourself, "I don't have the money or the time to go to Yosemite." What do you do then? The eternal pessimist would go into a blue funk (a state my father used to mention) and then wallow there for a while. If you are determined to not go there, the simple solution is right there in your hometown. Every place, no matter how dismal or mundane has its places of beauty or historical value. Do you live near a body of water? A lake, river or ocean? For many of us, watching the action of the water is in itself a soothing and calming remedy for a troubled soul. A few minutes spent in quiet contemplation can help erase a month's worth of misery and turmoil. How about a trip to the zoo? Or a botanical garden? Those are places that typically don't cost much to visit or may even be free. The thing is you have to put forth the effort to find them and take advantage of what they can do for you and your need to find some respite to quiet your mind. </h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62IDkiPCjzGHQ1QgZOSgZTccBuf7dBbC3YrpoanwUl0EAbddD_1FoO-4AJVOKv7kgEUOiYFyTVaFmC6iql1aHVqEdM_OzboWak-hfllIiP7o-olARIz46Afi8oY8bO5ZrClXyeqgEbL9c/s1600/Fall+2012+and+Camping+Ft.+Pickens+Oct.+2012+268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62IDkiPCjzGHQ1QgZOSgZTccBuf7dBbC3YrpoanwUl0EAbddD_1FoO-4AJVOKv7kgEUOiYFyTVaFmC6iql1aHVqEdM_OzboWak-hfllIiP7o-olARIz46Afi8oY8bO5ZrClXyeqgEbL9c/s320/Fall+2012+and+Camping+Ft.+Pickens+Oct.+2012+268.JPG" width="320" /></a></h4>
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A sunny day at Pensacola Beach near Ft. Pickens</h4>
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I happen to live within a 20 to 30 minute drive of the Gulf of Mexico. Not only is it a body of water with never ending movement, but it also affords the most fantastic views of sunrise and sunset you could ever imagine. The icing on that cake is that we have the world's whitest sand on our beaches. It isn't called SUGAR sand for nothing. We can take a beach chair, a picnic lunch and my camera and we are privy to a lifestyle that many will never know. And it only takes a few minutes to get there and a bit of gasoline. It's worth every penny, too. Watching eagles and ospreys on their nests and the turtles come to the surface of their little bayou to watch what I am doing is an amazing thing to see. It reminds you of your place in this world and compels you to be grateful for things available to you, big and small. That little piece of paradise that is only a few miles from my house is there day and night. Any time I get too self absorbed and too focused on things that take me down, I can hop in my car and drive to that place that will make those negative things fade away. </h4>
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Are you looking at me? Or am I looking at you? </h4>
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I guess I could go on with more things like turn off the TV once in a while. Step away from your computer and give your brain cells a rest. Put your phone down or better yet, turn it off. You have voice mail for a reason so if someone calls with something you really need to know, you will get the message. Just maybe an hour later than they planned for you to get it. But that hour you spend doing something to restore your sanity, to bring peace and calmness to your soul is far more important than being the first to hear some juicy bit of news. </h4>
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The thing is, those opportunities for us to renew and restore our sense of happiness really are there for us to find and use. But they won't come in search of us. We have to open our eyes, ears and hearts to find them. Those lovely cardinals who were dancing among my flowers in my back yard did not issue an invitation for me to watch. In fact, I am pretty sure they were totally unaware of my prying eyes. It was up to me to pause long enough to even realize they were there. But oh, the reward that was mine for lingering just a moment or two longer at that door to see their light hearted display. It was just the tonic I needed to make me realize (once more) that the world really is NOT all bad. For we humans tend to have short memories and we need to be reminded again and again of this fact. </h4>
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So I challenge you to look for ways to bring some oomph to your life. A little bit of joy to make you smile and remember the good things that are a part of your life. Not every day will be a stellar one. Not everything that you have to deal with as part of our life story will be easy and without pain. But to balance out the bad parts, you can and should look for ways to pull yourself back toward the center. I can't guarantee you will end up as a happy camper, but I can tell you that what you find is worth what effort you put forth to get there. There is a saying I hear a lot lately: the definition of insanity is to do the same things over and over and then expect different results. Maybe what you need is a change of direction, a new plan and then you might get the results you are after. </h4>
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<strong>Happy Trails,</strong><br />
<strong>Marcia</strong> Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-60012576432213529292012-09-11T13:05:00.000-05:002012-09-11T13:05:44.601-05:00Wishes Fulfilled: Repairing and Expanding the Tapestry We Call Life<span style="color: #741b47;">Many times over the past few years, my niece, Rebecca, and I have lamented the fact that our already small family has shrunk even more. We discuss this because when we have a "family gathering" we literally can rent one house with maybe 5 or 6 bedrooms and that seems to be enough to contain our immediate (non-extended) family. As people close to us have died, we are reminded once again that "we're all we've got". Rebecca and I have said that so much to each other it has almost become a joke. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">And yet there is some sad irony in that because we do have a few extended family members that are "out there" somewhere scattered across the country. I have an inkling where to find some of them but others are well beyond the scope of my limited sleuthing abilities. Over the years we've had contact with a few cousins from my mother's side of the family and one very short lived contact with a cousin from my dad's side. Beyond that, I didn't have a clue where to look for anyone else whose name I could bring up. Then out of the blue someone found ME. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">As some of you know, I have a kind of love-hate relationship with Facebook. On the one hand it provides almost immediate (and sometimes REAL TIME) access to things my grandchildren are doing. Comments with my daughter-in-law regarding "what's for dinner" bounce back and forth across cyberspace in the blink of an eye. That's the part that is fun and makes me go back to FB several times a day. The not so nice side of FB is that the site can and does do weird things occasionally like completely change the look of the page that allegedly is "yours". They also apparently can gather lots of random bits and pieces about your life that they can do with as they please. And furthermore, if you're not careful with your settings, you can put yourself out on the internet for lots and lots of unwelcome attention. So while my love affair is sometimes tepid, I have entered this relationship with a degree of caution. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">So having said that, Facebook is also the great connector of people from our past. The long and difficult task of digging up people who were classmates, room mates, co-workers, fraternity brothers, neighbors, former ministers and yes, even family members has become much less of a chore. One can literally type in a name and voila! You will be pleasantly surprised to get a long list of people by that name. If you're lucky, you might get a location to go with that name. And with all the stars lined up, you might get a way to contact that person to see if they are, indeed, the person you are seeking. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Imagine my surprise when a couple of weeks ago I happened to catch (almost out of the corner of my eye) a message on my FB page that said someone had sent me a message. The name was instantly recognizable as one of my cousins on my dad's side of the family. I quickly clicked on the link and to my amazement, she was reaching out to me and was interested in re-establishing our connection as relatives. I responded to her request with surprise and delight at this turn of events because suddenly, with no effort on my part, those wispy bonds of connection became a little bit firmer and visible.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">We exchanged a flurry of messages back and forth and finally got each other's email address and we have been exchanging family stories, legend and lore, history and chronicles of our lives from when we last were even in the same room together. So much time has passed and we each have almost a lifetime of events to exchange. The last time we had a conversation, her son was a baby, my son was in early grade school. She has moved numerous times, as I have, too. Her life has had drama and complications. Mine has, as well. There has been much joy for each of us, along with the sorrow and tragedy. Like all lives, we've had a mix of bitter and sweet. And we have only begun to do the catching up that we want to do. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Why am I writing about this today? The reason is partly because the reconnection with Cindy is a wish fulfilled for me. I have thought long and hard about the lack of information to my family history. Rebecca and I have discussed this endlessly about how the people who could answer so many questions we have are now gone. We have found bits and pieces of our past but have had no one who could fill in a few details. Having Cindy's information and perspective on what she remembers is like opening up a diary and finding out what a key family member thought. She is privy to knowledge passed on to her by her father and her personal experiences with our grandmother and aunt. The good news she is willing to share what she remembers.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">She also has photographs of family members that I have wished a thousand times I had and could not find to save my life. She told me yesterday that she is sending an album and some loose pictures to me that will be in here in a day or two. To me, photographs are like a window back in time and I can hardly wait to see what I find. One of the tasks is to try to identify who some of the people are in the pictures. A bigger goal, one that I have already started envisioning, is a photobook with some of the pictures combined with some of the ones I have and stories that go along with the photographs. Cindy and I have exchanged some of the family stories and we both have said that there are more. I want some of them preserved for my grandchildren and for hers. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">There is one more reason for writing about this that I want to state clearly and plainly to Cindy and others who read this. Having a connection back to my past has helped fill a kind of empty place in my heart. It was not anything that I acknowledged but since reconnecting with Cindy, I have noticed that the feeling has receded just a little. It was a feeling akin to loneliness and perhaps sadness that exists when the usual things that are found there are in such short supply. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Our lives are like a tapestry woven together with many connections and events across time. When you rediscover a thread that was there and then dropped out, it helps repair that tapestry to be stronger and, yes, prettier, when that thread is rewoven back into the whole of the piece. I truly want to thank Cindy for making the effort to find me and other family members. That empty spot in my heart has shrunk a little bit or more accurately has started to fill in with the knowledge that some of my extended family connections that I thought were gone really are alive and well. It feels good to know that we have a slightly bigger family than we did a few weeks ago and that together we're still here for each other, still able to recall the names and the faces of those who went before us. It makes me feel good to know this and I hope it did the same for her! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Happy Trails,</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47;">Marcia</span> Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-44667722275124954062012-09-05T15:00:00.000-05:002012-09-06T00:45:31.615-05:00Listen Up, People! Fall Is Coming!<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Alright, I know by the calendar, we're still several more weeks away from the official arrival of fall. And where I live, even if the calendar says so, doesn't MAKE it so! So how, you might ask, how can I be so sure that fall really is a comin'. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Well, yesterday when Larry brought in the mail, he brought with him proof positive that Fall 2012 is right around the corner. He casually tossed the pile of mail in my chair, but I knew as soon as I scanned that pile that it was true. There amongst the pamphlets from Holland America tempting me with another cruise, the newsletter from our local Food Bank, a free offer from American Express for an appointment book and desk set was all the proof I needed to set my heart aflutter! Yes, it was the Early Fall 2012 Edition of the Blair catalog! </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>I was so thrilled to have this wonderful piece of news come tumbling out of my mail box, that I set it aside temporarily until I could<u> really</u> examine it's pages, gaze upon the turtlenecks, corduroy pants, fleece jackets and demi-boots offered for sale. And with FREE SHIPPING yet! Pinch me, I'm dreaming! You see, nothing announces the arrival of fall to me like the fall fashions that immediately transports us out of the tee shirts and shorts of summer, the neon and pastel shades better suited to 99 degree days and straight into the bluer skies and crisper air that is only experienced in the fall. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>When people are asked what their favorite season is, invariably, they will tell you it is either the spring or the fall. Oh, I guess there are probably a few die-hards out there who actually LIKE the summer or prefer the winter. But do we look for signs of either of these seasons? Not really. The ones we look for, hope for and long for are spring and fall. We look eagerly for the first robins of spring. Those first few shoots of green or dandelions in the lawn. And for fall, well, we eagerly anticipate the first cool days, the smell of burning oak or hickory and yes, even something so simple, and yet predictive, as a catalog in the mail box. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>I ask myself why do I love the fall so much? By rights I could really not like it. For it was on a bright, crisp fall day in November 1967, one day after my 18th birthday that we buried my father. I still remember the dress I wore that day, the surreal way everything felt and looked. I actually thought for a minute that day that time stood still and that we'd be standing in that cemetery forever right there with him. I never imagined that my life and the life of my family would move on to have the experiences both good and bad that would come our way. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>And so I look up today and realize how much time has passed by, how far away that place is where he is buried, both in miles and in memory. It is that knowledge why I love the fall so much. It reminds me of the passage of time, the never ending flow to life. Time, as they say, marches on. The fall urges me to reflect, to recount the good times, as well as the bad. It calls me to account with what I've done with my life because the chapter I am in is about to close and another will begin shortly. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>More important, however, than just reflecting and reminiscing, I think the fall is our opportunity to renew our commitment to life. It is our chance, one last chance before this year is done, to realign our priorities and try one more time to get things right. Life is a struggle for every one of us. None of us has the answer to every question and what I find that works for me may not be right for someone else. I guess the important thing to remember is that it is <em>our journey</em> that matters, our attempts to figure out the big questions that should be guide posts. When I anticipate the arrival of fall, I look with eagerness to the opportunity to make closing arguments for this chapter, while jotting down the opening remarks for the next one to follow.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>I hope you find the time this fall to reflect on your year and the things you've done to make your story count. If you find that somehow, you just didn't quite make it go the way you intended, that is the beauty of the fall. It's the time to plan, to think, to dream. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>I have a bag of mulling spices ready to make a steaming mug of cider, my order to that catalog will be on its way soon. I'm watching for those first hints of turning leaves and the smell of wood burning in a fireplace. And soon, very soon, I'll be pondering what it means to be alive and living in such interesting and amazing times. I'll be examining my life and figuring out what comes next. Hope you get to do the same! </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Happy Fall (It's coming. It really is.)</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Marcia</strong></span> <br />
<br />Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-45209470915685150172012-09-03T12:24:00.000-05:002012-09-03T13:30:49.619-05:00Working for a Living: A long tradition of labor<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>When I was a little girl and we would go to Memphis to see my grandparents, I couldn't help but notice a heavy, metal doorstop in my paternal grandmother's home. It was shaped like a sailing ship, painted bright gold. The story I was always told about it was that it was made by my grandfather because his occupation was iron molder. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>I never knew my paternal grandfather, William M. Treadway, and just heard stories about "Pop" from my own father and Uncle Bill about their dad. He was a hard drinking, hard working man from all the accounts I ever heard. One of the more memorable stories my Grandmother told me was that when she was only 15 years old, Pop and one of his working buddies passed by her house, saw her sitting on the front porch and declared then and there that he was going to marry her some day. Never mind the fact that they had never even met formally. And yes, they did marry---eloped a short time after that. </strong></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lura Grey Treadway, GrannyT. 2nd from Left, Top Row<br />
Annie Gorley Treadway, Pop's Mother, 2nd from Right, Top Row<br />
William Gorley Treadway "Pop" Far Right, Bottom Row<br />
Watermelon Time 1904</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>For a while Pop worked on the railroad out west and Granny worked as a cook for Pop and his fellow workers. They tried to homestead in Colorado but eventually that was a dream they abandoned to return to Memphis. Pop was employed as an iron molder and from all the stories I've been told about him he was a hard worker until his untimely death at age fifty-six in 1941. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>Since I never knew him except in some really old, faded photographs and family legend and lore, I can only imagine what he was like and what his hard working hands must have looked like. Given the nature of his work, I see large, calloused hands, dirt embedded in his fingers that no amount of scrubbing could ever completely remove. He wore a working man's clothing, probably dungarees and a heavy shirt of some kind to help protect against the hot cinders that were probably part of his every day work place. Heavy lines marked his face from constant exposure to heat and fumes from the work he did. He worked long before there was such a thing as OSHA or EPA and workmen in those days were frequently exposed to hazards that would surely be outlawed today for their protection. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>And as I sat thinking about him on this Labor Day 2012, it made me think of all the other people in my family who worked hard, labored in difficult, sometimes dangerous jobs. A few were able to benefit from higher education and went into fields like education and became teachers, nurses and worked in management, like my father did. My maternal grandfather worked for the phone company stringing telephone line that came to a spectacular end when he was electrocuted, thrown from the pole and spent 180 days in a hospital recovering from injuries to nearly every bone in his body. He later worked for the Memphis Police Department in dispatch. My grandmother's brother, C. W. "Red" Gardner was in the military through several wars and eventually worked for the Memphis Fire Department. My Uncle Charlie worked for the Illinois Central Rail Road, starting out at age 15 and eventually becoming an engineer on the IC line. My mother fulfilled a life long dream of becoming a nurse by returning to school and was a Registered Nurse. Her last position was with the Veteran's Adminstration caring for aged veterans who needed a caring heart and kind word in their final years. They, too, provided a different kind of labor for our nation, but one that is much appreciated and lauded on other holidays throughout our year. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>Granny Treadway was widowed in 1941 and had to supplement her income, but with no education or training, she did the only thing she really knew how to do. She went to work for a department store in Memphis doing alterations. Her daughter, Blanche, worked for S.C. Toof and Company, commercial printers. I can still remember her hands that were permanently stained with black printer's ink and the finger cot she wore on one finger to help when she thumbed through stacks of papers. One brother worked for the newspaper, the <u>Press-Scimitar</u> in Memphis, as a proof reader and another worked in Washington DC for the <u>Congressional Record</u> in the printing division. A younger brother went into Musical Ministry and served many churches through out his career. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>And so it is that I look back at a long line of hard working men and women who worked at a time when there were few laws protecting them from injury and getting a good wage was fraught with difficulties, too. Some of these people were union members, others were not. Without question, all were people who knew the meaning of work and didn't shy away from hard labor. They helped build this country we live in today and I look with pride back on their contribution whether it was working in hot, dirty jobs , walking up and down the corridors of a hospital or crusading for higher wages and better benefits for the working people across the United States. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>Today is Labor Day. It has become a day to drag out the bar-b-que grill and ice down some drinks, make potato salad and relax on the patio. It is often a day off for those who are employed in all the various occupations that it takes to make our country function. Let us not forget that it is our kinfolk that built the workforce of yesteryear and the workers of today who build the cars, deliver the mail, teach the young, care for the sick and pave our roads. It will be the generation growing up now that will move this country on through the 21st century and into the next. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>We owe our gratitude to those who came before us and made it possible for many of us to have a better standard of living and hope for a better life style. While you're grilling those burgers and eating that potato salad, please take a few moments to remember your heritage and the people who brought us this far and thank the ones who are going to take us forward for many more years. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>Happy Labor Day 2012! (A proud American tradition since 1882)</strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>Happy Trails,</strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;"><strong>Marcia</strong></span></div>
Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-16803553269906401662012-09-02T17:12:00.000-05:002012-09-02T17:27:24.315-05:00Music: Can You Name That Tune in Three Notes?<span style="color: #073763;">Ok, I admit it. I am sentimental and sometimes cry about stuff for no good reason. Or at least one that is not obvious to me right off the bat. So the other night when I was reading one of the blogs I follow, I saw a link to a song from my past. It was Arlo Guthrie singing " The City of New Orleans". Someone else had commented that when they went to the link and watched it they cried. And I thought, "Yea, I bet you did." Then I clicked on the link and was barely into the Youtube video when I found myself singing along and crying like I was two years old. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">Yep, it happened to me, too. And that made me start thinking and you know what a dangerous thing that can be. Oh, but I kid about that, because actually I am a big advocate of <em>thinking.</em> It can lead you in directions you never knew you'd go, but hey, it IS what is supposed to separate us from the rest of the animal kingdom, right? (Although I have seen and read some things lately that are making me begin to wonder and doubt the common wisdom on THAT. But that's for another blog post, not this one.) </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">So as I was sitting there singing and crying, it occurred to me that music is such a powerful force in our lives and that if there is something universal in this world, it is the power of music to touch us, inspire us and maybe even make us better human beings. Well, I might be hoping for too much on that last thing, but for sure, music does touch us and activates parts of our brain that maybe we aren't even aware we have. Back before I retired, I used to read a lot of stuff regarding the brain since it directly applied to my line of work. And if there is anything that came out of all that reading, it is that there is so much more to learn about our brain.....we've only begun to scratch the surface of what there is to know about it. It truly is a vast frontier of the unexplored, but hopefully knowable, essence of what makes us human. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">As I read and began to have a greater appreciation for our brain, it became very clear to me that there are forces around us that make us act and think in certain ways. And one of those is music. The very act of listening to a familiar song can evoke such powerful memories or feelings that one could almost burst with sheer joy or sob uncontrollably for being reminded of something bygone and faded into the mists of time. Likewise, the act of creating or playing music can be such a healing and life changing thing that the urge to do this often starts at a very early age. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">I can't help but think of my oldest grandson, Gavin. When he was a wee tike, who had to have help to get up on the piano bench, he would sit up there, bouncing up and down, moving his hands up and down the keys, pretending to be playing the piano. He had a certain movement in his shoulders that indicated he had a clear vision of how one moves when performing at the piano. We often laughed at his cute attempts to play the piano, little realizing that in a few short years, he would keep that desire to make music alive by taking, first, guitar lessons and then moving on</span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;">to learn how to play the piano. Today he is a budding performer who entertains us at family gatherings, inspires people at his church and like most teenagers, has dreams of taking his skills to the professional stage some day. I hope he succeeds because making music is so important to him and I know one of his greatest desires is to share his gifts and talents by writing and performing music. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">Another story about the power of music was related to me by Larry. A few years ago he volunteered with a group of people who went to nursing homes and facilities who care for severely disabled adults. Many of these people live a life that most of us could never imagine. And we're pretty good at hiding these people, not because we're cruel or indifferent to their plight, but because it is painful and difficult to see the hand that they were dealt and not wonder if life has some unexpected surprises for us, too. So this group of volunteers would try to overcome their own reluctance to see a side to life that some would avoid to try to bring a little joy and fun into the lives of the people who lived in the home. Many were wheelchair bound with ailments that rendered them incapable of walking. Some had brains that were horrendously malformed so that there was little or no hope of anything close to normal functioning. Some were just really old and dementia had taken its toll on their minds. A sad group of life's survivors to be sure. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">Well, having strung you along to this sad place, I need to turn to what happened next. And this is where a little miracle took place that should make you<u> never doubt</u> the power of music to transform a life, if only for a short while. With their canned music and portable keyboard, Larry and that small group of singers began to sing a familiar hymn. It doesn't matter what it was. It could have been The Old Rugged Cross or Down by the Riverside. No matter. It's what happened when one little lady in particular heard the notes drift her way. There she was on a type of gurney, sprawled backward, staring up at the ceiling, no recognition on her face or in her eyes that she even knew where she was or that there was even anyone else in that room with her. And then.....all of sudden, she sat bolt upright and began smiling and swaying along to the music. It was as if something reanimated her poor broken body and mind to awaken anew. And the whole time they were singing the song that touched something in her time ravaged brain, she smiled and almost glowed with the sheer joy of hearing that familiar song that brought her back to this world again for a few minutes. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">I have often thought of this story when I hear a song on the radio or the music that takes us on a journey when we watch a movie. Is there anyone who can listen to the soundtrack from the movie <u>Jaws</u> and not be instantly transported back to the time you first saw that film?? It's the music that did it, not the images, although they are powerful, too. Those first few strains of that ominous musical interlude were used to properly prepare us for what was coming next. Who says music can't move you? It can lift you out of despair, scare the heck out of you or take you soaring to new heights of inspiration. Or even just take a sentimental journey back in time. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">Finally, one last personal story about the power of music and this one is my own. Twenty two years ago I was engaged in one of the most serious battles of my life. I had been diagnosed with breast cancer and was about to embark on the treatment plan that took more than a year to complete and is probably the reason I am alive and sitting here today writing this blog. My doctors had recommended a course of treatment that included surgery, followed by six weeks of radiation therapy and then ten months of chemotherapy. It was a long and stressful event in my life, but one that forever changed me and helped make me into who I am today. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">As I was going to get chemo every week, I began a to see quite a few of my fellow travelers (aka Cancer Survivors) bringing boom boxes with them on the days they got their IV treatments. A few who were more technologically advanced even had Walkmans. Ipods were still many years away from being a reality back then. And I read in journals and information for patients that listening to music was proving to be a great way to get through treatment and help deal with stress and uncertainty. So I decided I would give it a whirl since treatments could be and often were times of difficulty for me. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">I had a few CDs since they were a rather new item at the time and I had cassette tapes. My choices tended to go toward New Age music, but I was definitely not above listening to Huey Lewis and the News when the mood struck me. I discovered right away that listening to the music had a very profound affect on my mood, my heartbeat and my stress level. One particular artist, Andreas Vollenweider, was one I listened to time after time. To this day, there is one track on one of his albums that I can hear and will instantly relax and begin to feel calm inside. He plays harp and I have promised myself if I ever get the chance to hear him in person, I <u>will</u> go since I am pretty sure it will be a high point in my life. As an aside about this, I wrote to him when I was in the middle of treatment to tell him how much his music meant to me and that I hoped he would continue to bring his gifts and talents to the world since I felt he was making a huge difference for so many people. And if you can believe it, I got a handwritten reply from this man that I have still in an album. I will never forget the kindness of this international star for writing to me, just an ordinary fan who took the time to write to him about the value and impact of his music on my life. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">So to tie all of this up in a neat package, I say to anyone who takes the time to read this, if you're searching for a way to find comfort or peace, music can be your friend. If you want something to evoke powerful memories and maybe even inspiration, look to your musical library (or Youtube). If you are trying to set a mood (think of Jaws!), music will do the trick. And for goodness sake, if you are musically inclined, MAKE music for your own amusement and amazement. Do it for any willing audience. But just do it. The power of music has been proven to us over and over and it is up to us to figure out ways to bring it into our lives for all the many paths we can explore using that power. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">P.S. The track I was referring to that I so loved back then and still listen to is on an album called:</span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><u>Andreas Vollenweider Trilogy</u>. The track is an extra one called "Pace Verde". The You Tube link is below and when I listened to it a few minutes ago...yep....I cried, but boy, was I relaxed!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">Happy Trails,</span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">Marcia</span> <br />
<br />Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-389389696420330802012-07-31T15:20:00.000-05:002012-07-31T15:20:38.467-05:00Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude.....Whatever You Call It, That is What Life is About<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>I ran into a friend at the grocery store yesterday. I had read in the newspaper just last week that her husband had died after a long struggle with a neurological disorder, complicated by a stroke. As we hugged and exchanged hellos, I mentioned to her that I had read about her husband's death. Like most people who have been through that ordeal, she appeared to be filled with mixed emotions. Relief that suffering for his pain and disability is over. Sadness as the impact of the loss begins to settle in as she adjusts to a new life without him. Confusion and dismay at who she is <u>now</u> and what her life will be like are consuming most of her thoughts. The mountain of paperwork and tasks surrounding his illness and death that must be settled have not even really started for her, but she is anticipating that, too. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>As we stood in the aisle and talked of what it's like to care for someone with dementia, I began to remember my experience when Larry and I took care of my mother for three years before her death in 2006. No one really knows what they will do in that situation, even though people often speculate and opine on what they think they would do. In our situation, we were caught completely off guard since Mama lived in a group home type setting in another city where my younger sister lived. When my sister died very suddenly and unexpectedly, the responsibility of taking care for mama fell completely to us. It was quite clear after we had her with us for a few weeks that the living arrangement she had before Ginny died was not going to work any more. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>So we took on the task and set about to get her moved in so she could live with us permanently. We got a Durable Power of Attorney while we still could legally get that done so I could pay her bills, manage her money and make sure I had the authority to make important decisions regarding her health. We arranged to store a lot of possessions that wouldn't fit in her room at our house and that she no longer needed. We assessed our house to make sure she could be here safely and without worrying that we were overlooking something that could cause her harm. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>It was made doubly hard because both of us were still working at the time and we had to re-arrange our schedules so that someone would be here with her the majority of the day. In the beginning we could leave her for <u>very short</u> periods of time and she was OK. That didn't last long but it gave us enough time to find alternatives for when we both had to be at work and couldn't be at home with her. Once in a while I even took her to work with me when we couldn't figure out what else to do. It was a difficult time but we managed and somehow got through it. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>And the thing is: our story is not unusual or a rare occurrence for people in our generation---the baby boomers. Some friends we met for lunch just this past Sunday are in that awful place of deciding what to do about her mother. She is clearly in need of a different living arrangement, living some 8 hours or so away from them. They both work, she is not quite old enough to be at the mandatory 59 1/2 to retire without penalty. Too young for her Social Security, but if she can get to the right age, she can draw her pension. That age is still about 6 months away. So what do they do about her mom in the meantime? Hard questions. No easy answers. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>I keep hearing stories like this and running into friends and relatives who have an amazing tale of sacrifice and so much love and devotion to care for a loved one. Usually, spouses or children feel the need to care for their loved one out of loyalty and love. Sometimes the choice of what to do is driven by financial stresses----lack of resources to place the loved one in a special facility for those with dementia or other disorders requiring special care. Other times, however, it is complicated by the fact that the loved one has specifically asked not to be "put in a home" or difficulty in finding an opening or in finding a place that you consider suitable or decent. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Truthfully, there are many, many resources available if you live in a fairly la</strong></span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>rge community, but in our case, we attempted to and did care for my mother for a long time before we got outside help. Looking back, I know we waited too long because we were both at the end of our psychological and physical ropes. I would tell anyone facing this to monitor themselves and start finding help before they begin to crumble under the weight of such an important and difficult task. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>The long and the short of this is that many, many people in our generation are going to be involved in the care of a loved one who may be elderly, sick and possibly even suffering from dementia. We are living longer these days but the bad news about that is that as we get older, our risks for developing those kinds of illnesses rise with our age. Risk factors like falls, strokes and other illnesses that contribute to mental or physical frailties go up with each birthday. Our ability to prolong life is improving but sadly we are lacking in the ability to keep those other bad things completely at bay. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>They say a lesson to the wise is sufficient. So there is a lesson to be learned here. Life is about change and sometimes the change you experience isn't something you bargained for. If you get yourself too wedded to the idea that things will stay the same.....the same house, the same spouse, the same way of life.....you are fooling yourself. If you can, you need to start talking about the "what ifs" long before they come knocking on your door. One day, on another post, I will talk about what some of those WHAT IFS are, but for today, my suggestion is that you begin that process of at least thinking about them. It won't be easy and you might even squirm just a little when you start talking about things like your mortality and the illness or death of a spouse or other loved one. But CHANGE is inevitable and starting to face that and deal with it, even plan for it, is one step that you will be glad you did. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>I am thinking a lot about my friend and the loss of her husband of 45 years....almost the same amount of time Larry and I have been married. I am thinking about our friends who are struggling with what to do about her mom and how their lives will be impacted with whatever decision they make. I know that these days and weeks and months ahead of them won't be easy but they can and will make decisions and will prevail. We did and I know they can, too. If you keep your head, educate yourself, ask for help and take care of yourself, you will come through it and live to tell your story so others can benefit from what you learned. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Happy Trails,</strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Marcia</strong></span> Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-65522428431202737852012-06-30T15:20:00.000-05:002012-06-30T15:22:29.218-05:00Summer On My Plate<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Earlier this week, we decided to make a visit to a local business that has been a landmark in this area for many years. It is easy to know when you've gotten there because of the huge Jolly Green Giant that stands guard over the building and its contents. Known far and wide as Bailey's Farmer's Market, all the locals depend heavily on the things they sell all year round from the Christmas trees that they bring in every November to the huge pallets of collard greens and sweet potatoes and big cardboard boxes filled to the brim with a variety of watermelons just begging to be iced and then sliced into big, pink grins of pure summer enjoyment. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>But the quintessential thing that people come to Bailey's to buy in the summer are on the flat tables overflowing with shelled field peas and speckled butter beans. Sure, they sell 'em in the shell and many of their customers would have it no other way but to buy them in the shell and spend the hours it takes to shell a huge bag of peas or butter beans to have for supper that night or to "put up" for later on when the season for growing them is long gone. The difference between buying them shelled, ready for the pot and buying them in the shell that means hours of sitting, shelling and dealing with sore fingers for days is not insignificant. I picked up that scoop and filled my bag without hesitation with the tempting beauties that were pot ready, even if they cost a lot more. Larry opted for a pound of the ones in the shell, just to see how much we'd get if we shelled 'em ourselves and saved a bundle over the ones that Bailey's kindly shelled for us. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Once inside their fruit and vegetable stand most people are unable to resist buying other things so enticingly displayed and begging to be placed in the brown paper bags they have conveniently placed all around the bins. So it was that we happened to also buy some yellow squash, vine ripe tomatoes, Georgia peaches, jalapenos and pablano peppers, Japanese Eggplant and two varieties of sweet potatoes. Falling under their spell is not easy to resist and we were not the only ones milling around, picking and pawing over the fresh veggies destined to be on many dinner plates that night. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Obviously we couldn't cook all of the things we bought in one day so we have spread out our wealth throughout this week, enjoying and discussing the merits of each thing that showed up on our plates. Yesterday I prepared a large pot of the Zipper Peas combined with Pink Eyed Purple Hull peas and served them over rice. We still had a large hunk of corn bread from a previous meal that included some of those Speckled Butter Beans that found their way into my sack. I was looking for something else to include with our peas and cornbread when I spied a couple of beautiful specimens of tomatoes sitting on the counter---waiting their turn to be on the menu. So I sliced them into thick and thin slices. People tend to come from one of the two schools of thought on the proper slicing of a tomato: A. It should be sliced into a nice, thick slab or B. God forbid you cut it thick and instead make it as thin as possible, requiring a razor sharp knife to get the deed done correctly. Since we have one of each in our household, we get both styles---thick and thin slices. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>As I sat down and stared at my plate I couldn't decide where to start first but ended up taking a mouthful of the peas and rice. For a moment, I thought I might swoon. It was so good, so flavorful and delicious I was instantly struck with how iconic it was for most of my youth, having spent the majority of that time growing up in Mississippi. Peas and cornbread are standard fare in the South during the summer. You just couldn't escape having that if you grew up in Mississippi during the 50s and 60s. I suspect it may still be that way, but for sure that's how it was back then. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>And then I realized that I had Summer On My Plate. For a few moments, I was transported back in time ---- a time so far away that you'd think the memory would have faded into infinity. But no. It was still there, embedded like all the other memories of that time. On our recent camping trip with the grandkids, they were pleading....no begging me to tell story after story about when I was a kid. And the stories just kept coming and the more I told, the more they wanted to hear. I never got to this one but this is one that maybe I'll get around to telling them on the next trip.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Every summer between the ages of about 9 until I was a teen ager, my sister, Ginny and I spent with my older sister, Charlotte, her husband, Wilson and my niece, Rebecca. It was not unusual for us to spend a big part of the summer with them, which was just fine with us because life was never dull with them and besides, we absolutely adored our older sister and Rebecca was our very own Little Princess. Wilson was studying to be an ordained minister and spent several years in Kentucky at seminary and later came back to Mississippi to begin his career as a United Methodist Minister. Only back then he was mainly called Brother Brent. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>All of the churches he served tended to be way out in the country, down dusty roads, back in the woods and getting there usually entailed a long ride in a hot, un-air conditioned car. Once you got there the church had all the windows slightly open and a fan would be humming in the background. Occasionally, a wasp would come in during the middle of the service adding a new reason for praying earnestly during the morning prayer. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Every summer, along with Vacation Bible School, churches had a Revival Service that might last for one week and once in a while up to two weeks. It was the common practice to invite a guest preacher to come in to do the nightly preachin' and if their budget could stand it, they would bring in an Evangelist to be their guest speaker. Wilson was sometimes invited to go to other churches while another preacher might come to his church to preach. When Wilson went to preach a revival it always included all of us.....Charlotte, Rebecca, Ginny and me. We'd load up the car, drive to the church and get treated like honored guests wherever we went. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>One thing about that time---churches certainly couldn't afford to pay their guest speaker a lot of money, but they sure could feed us. Since it was summer the bounty coming in from their gardens was plentiful. And since it was the PREACHER coming to their house to eat, you can bet they pulled out all the stops to present a meal fit for a king. It was not unusual to have three or four kinds of meat at one meal: fried chicken, ham, pork chops and roast beef. Then there were the vegetables. Oh my word! Peas, butter beans, fresh greens, squash, mashed potatoes (the real kind, not something out of a plastic bowl and microwaved), string beans, fresh tomatoes. It truly was overwhelming to see the vast array that would be put on the table for us. And that certainly didn't include the desserts that were awaiting us. Those things would take up a table all by themselves. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>And so it went summer after summer. And if we weren't attending a revival, we were going to Dinner on the Grounds. You have not lived until you have been to a true "Dinner on the Grounds" in rural Mississippi in the summer time. Every cook in the county tries to out-do every other cook and the sight of a long row of banquet size tables with dish after dish is enough to make a strong person buckle under the pressure. No short cuts, no Kentucky Fried Chicken buckets or deli containers of potato salad there. The feast would start shortly after church services ended for the morning and would go on long into the afternoon. Desserts would come out later on and it's for sure there would be cakes, banana pudding, pies and a variety of congealed (Jell-o) salads in every color of the rainbow. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Later on there might be singing. Many of the churches Wilson served had musicians who would form into groups to sing gospel songs familiar to all who heard them. They would pound out the tunes on an old upright piano, that was only slightly out of tune and frequently had a key or two that would stick. Sometimes there would be someone who played a fiddle or guitar. But mostly it was the piano and a trio or quartet of singers, accompanied by others in the congregation who wanted to sing along to the familiar and comforting tunes. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>As the afternoon faded into sunset, the preacher (Wilson or invited guest) would take the to the pulpit once again to bring a message to the (usually) packed pews. Once I remember Wilson had invited his Uncle Jimmy to preach a revival. He and his wife, Aunt Kitty, were true Missionaries and had been to all sorts of interesting and far lands doing their missionary work. Uncle Jimmy was what some people would call a "Fire and Brimstone" preacher since he often preached on the Book of Revelations. When he got finished with a sermon, you KNEW you had been preached to by a master since he usually had his audience in the palm of his hands when he got to the end. He could also scare the living life out of you if you were young and impressionable, like I was. If the hair on the back of your neck was not raised when he preached, you weren't listening to him. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>And this is how many of my summers were spent when I was a kid. Funny how a plate of peas and cornbread could bring all that back in one bite. Those memories of my life are from a time long ago and so so far away. My life was really simple then, as was the life of many people in my life. I think the reason that we tend to gravitate back to things from long ago is that they are familiar and in some ways comforting. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>You see most of the people in the story I've related to you are gone now. Charlotte in 2000, Ginny in 2003 and Wilson in 2010. Rebecca and I often say to each other, "We're all we've got left." That's not quite true but we each know what we mean when we say that. We are the only ones left who hold the memories of that time in our lives like a king holds his treasured jewels. In some magical sort of way, when I go back in time and relive those memories, it brings those dear ones back to me for a little while. I miss them so much and it comforts me to have those great stories about shelling and eating butter beans, bouncing down dusty roads on the way to a tiny church in the distance and walking out into a moonlit night with the heavy scent of honeysuckle in the air. It brings them alive once more and for a little while I am thirteen again when life was simple and easy. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>So if you have a Farmer's Market in your town or maybe even have a garden spot in your backyard, enjoy the summer bounty. You never know where that bowl of butter beans and zipper peas will take you. Maybe somewhere special, magical and comforting.</strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Happy Trails,</strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Marcia </strong></span><br />
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<br />Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-67213868072259793722012-06-29T16:54:00.000-05:002012-06-29T16:54:37.133-05:00Eat Good Food While You Camp Without Spending All of Your Time at the Stove<span style="color: #783f04;">Anyone who has ever gone camping knows that preparing and providing good food that is not a chore to make can be a real challenge. I remember going camping once in my youth where the person planning our meals (it was a church youth group retreat) thought that having sandwiches for the entire long weekend was a good idea. The adult chaperons and some of the kids were less than enthusiastic about that menu. :( </span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">The possibilities for preparing tasty food while camping is infinitely easier today with the abundance of appliances that can be brought to the camp site. Most campgrounds have electrical service and outdoor kitchens for their campers to use. Our campers (a pop-up and a 31' travel trailer) both are equipped with propane stoves and the travel trailer has a combination 3 burner stove and oven. The stove for the pop-up is portable and can be used inside the camper or set up outside. After the weather starts to get warm the portability of that stove is <u>really important</u> so we can avoid heating up the camper to unbearable levels.</span> <br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">We have found that by bringing along a few appliances we can increase the number of culinary creations we can prepare with a minimum of effort. Crock pots are the cook's best friend, along with rice cookers, toaster ovens, George Foreman electric grill and waffle irons. A cook center set up outside the camper keeps the heat out of the camper and the appliance handy so you can keep an eye on the food as it cooks. We have an awning that offers some protection but would have taken the appliance inside if rain was in the forecast.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">On our most recent camping trip we brought along our Crock Pots. Our daughter-in-law made a breakfast casserole for us that she put together shortly before we went to bed and was cooked to perfection when we got up the next morning. The smell of the casserole woke us out of our slumber and, after we made a pot of coffee, we were enjoying our breakfast. The important thing about this method was it took <strong>very little time</strong> to put together and was ready to serve first thing the next morning. I might add that the best thing to come along in a long, long time is the invention of a <strong>LINER</strong> for the Crock Pot, making clean up a breeze. You simply pull the liner up and out of the pot and toss in a trash can. Voila! Clean Crock Pot. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">So one day when it was my turn to cook, I decided that the Crock Pot would simplify the process and help keep the heat to a minimum. When we went to the store to buy supplies, I was thinking of how to cut down on prep time and also the length of time the dish would need to cook in order to get everything done. I was planning to make a</span> <span style="color: #990000;"><strong>Chicken Taco Soup</strong></span> <span style="color: #783f04;">and ordinarily would have started</span> <span style="color: #783f04;">the dish from scratch with raw chicken. I was prepared to go that route when Larry suggested that I consider using rotisserie chickens. DUH! What a great idea!! Starting with cooked chicken meant that the time in the Crock Pot could be reduced to just long enough to get the whole thing hot.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">We bought two rotisserie chickens and then Larry kindly sacrificed his finger prints by deboning the chickens and we put the meat in a large Ziploc bag and stored it in the camper's refrigerator. The next afternoon when I put the soup all together, all I had to do was pull out the bag of cooked chicken, a can of tomatoes, black beans, a box of chicken broth, frozen corn (could have used canned) and an envelope of Taco Seasoning. Yeah, the little red packets that cost less than a dollar. This step saves you from having to bring along a lot of bottles of spices to get the distinctive flavors you want. I cut up an onion and sliced up two cloves of garlic, put that in a bowl, added a little olive oil and nuked it for a couple of minutes until the onion began to soften. (Our camper has a built in small microwave.) I did this to help hasten the cooking time for the ingredients.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">I lined the Crock Pot with a liner (yeah!! for liners), dumped in the chicken, tomatoes, beans, corn, chicken broth and sprinkled the taco seasoning over it all. You could add more seasoning like salt and pepper if you like and parsley flakes if you have that. Then I cooked the whole thing on high for about three hours. If I had started with raw chicken it would have required a lot longer to cook to make sure the meat was done and not going to give us all salmonella. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">When we all sat down at the picnic table to eat, we brought over the pot of hot soup and passed around sour cream, shredded cheese, a jar of roasted bell peppers and corn chips. If you have folks who enjoy a little heat, you can always add jalapenos to your soup or have a jar of peppers or hot sauce handy. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCbqx_AnGXahRhJhKRYbUbFO0xCtdVMZ8_7vMp2BFxCwY5TU6CAbeXDjeLpmYcsmaIgoKU544xVFB5aKbyf9UOgVzloTQw0IXKAnVyVRD0VFgiGmMgrC1A9t81L_2b9GjsZIRME0_GzF1/s1600/IMG_2456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCbqx_AnGXahRhJhKRYbUbFO0xCtdVMZ8_7vMp2BFxCwY5TU6CAbeXDjeLpmYcsmaIgoKU544xVFB5aKbyf9UOgVzloTQw0IXKAnVyVRD0VFgiGmMgrC1A9t81L_2b9GjsZIRME0_GzF1/s320/IMG_2456.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04;">We ate most of our meals outside in the screen house.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #783f04;">It was very easy to prepare and tasted very good, too. When you think about cooking when you camp, try to simplify what you make but don't give up on having good, tasty meals. We had grilled burgers one night, hot dogs and brats another, a Crock Pot chicken dish that had a wonderful sauce that we served over rice that was cooked in an electric rice cooker outside on our little cook center. Larry made grilled chicken and grilled zucchini and squash one night with his George Foreman Electric Grill. It is easy to clean up and cooks pork, chicken, burgers or veggies in a flash. No need to worry about charcoal or firestarter. With modern appliances, a little advance planning and modifying your recipes to make them easier to do at a camp site, you can eat rather well without breaking the bank or spending all your time slaving over a hot camp fire or camp stove. Bon Appetit! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><strong>Chicken Taco Soup</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">(This made enough to feed 3 kids and 4 adults and still have enough left overs for 2 or 3 more servings.)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">2 Rotisserie Chickens, deboned</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">1 can of crushed tomatoes (28 oz.)</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">2 cans of black beans (14 oz. each)</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">1 1/2 - 2 cups of corn (frozen and allowed to thaw a little or canned)</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">1 box of chicken broth (32 oz.) </span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">1 Vidalia (or yellow) onion, chopped and cooked in microwave for 2 minutes or until soft</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">2 cloves of garlic, minced and cooked with onion in microwave to soften</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">1 tablespoon of Olive Oil </span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">1 Envelope of Taco Seasoning </span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">Salt, pepper and parsley flakes to taste</span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">Line 6 qt. Crock Pot with a liner. Add all ingredients and heat until hot and bubbly. It may take several hours for your Crock Pot to reach this temperature but by using cooked chicken and canned beans you can significantly reduce the time necessary to make it safe to eat and for the flavors to blend. </span><span style="color: #783f04;">Ours cooked for approximately 3 hours.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">Serve with sour cream, grated cheddar cheese (or Queso Fresco) and your favorite corn chips! Delicious, fast and tasty! This tastes even better the next day after it sits in the refrigerator and the flavors "marry", as my big sis used to say.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #783f04;">Happy Trails,</span><br />
<span style="color: #783f04;">Marcia</span>Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-75933189230886361992012-06-28T14:15:00.000-05:002012-06-28T14:15:31.383-05:00A Crafty Project with a Lampshade!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">Some of you have probably seen me reference Pinterest in a few of my posts. If you have not gotten</span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">sucked into this vast array of decorating ideas, recipes, crafty projects, inspirational sayings, fashion and pure nonsense, you have no idea! Even a casual glimpse of what lurks within its pages will stun and amaze you with the plethora of trivia, good ideas, cooking tips, innovative recipes and countless ways to separate you from hours of your time! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">Once in a while, however, you will stumble upon an idea or tip that is just too good to pass by and it gets pinned on your board for some time in the future when you decide to put the idea to use. And so it was with me one day when I noticed a picture of a lamp shade entirely covered in buttons. I immediately thought of two things: an off-white lamp shade on a small lamp on my kitchen counter and a collection of buttons in my craft supplies that would make Hobby Lobby's owners blush in shame. The lamp shade had gotten splashed (mostly with water) and had an assortment of blotches and discolored spots on it that were unsightly but mostly unnoticed as most things are that you see every day. The lamp sits on the countertop near the kitchen sink and has gotten battle scarred and, in fact, I had thought several times about replacing the shade and just kept forgetting to measure it so I could do just that. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">Once I saw the picture of the button encrusted shade on Pinterest, I KNEW I had to try that idea out on my poor, pitiful, neglected shade. So that was my project "du jour". Which technically means "of the day", but in truth turned out to take more like two days. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIDzJVaizXRHIw9CyzaJIBd_juuhAn2AZ2hlycLdYiOiSbuJ8_DPZLctkyCqToEocr7A0-ayqlLQcJR1xb5HmlB184RuV7cvcLS6QfMtrST92ZJsPoS229qooh_TrieTlIo_nnNBE_NeL/s1600/IMG_2285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIDzJVaizXRHIw9CyzaJIBd_juuhAn2AZ2hlycLdYiOiSbuJ8_DPZLctkyCqToEocr7A0-ayqlLQcJR1xb5HmlB184RuV7cvcLS6QfMtrST92ZJsPoS229qooh_TrieTlIo_nnNBE_NeL/s200/IMG_2285.JPG" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Lamp Shade with water stains and blotches :(</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KSh6jt99DLeYNC45lI5A__IxRN8wniYjXIqsIBs9uLeU8CTtSSqOyUcpQGavShmvzwblKqzEilczOB3s1I2gvIm9Z_W8AwiAwgEgn2vjwvcoFvCj4Ghiv_qAXQKbnoWDbTEDL430szxL/s1600/IMG_2286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KSh6jt99DLeYNC45lI5A__IxRN8wniYjXIqsIBs9uLeU8CTtSSqOyUcpQGavShmvzwblKqzEilczOB3s1I2gvIm9Z_W8AwiAwgEgn2vjwvcoFvCj4Ghiv_qAXQKbnoWDbTEDL430szxL/s320/IMG_2286.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ugly lamp shade before my intervention!</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">The next step was to take a damp cloth and wipe off the entire shade for dust and anything else that didn't belong on it. Then I assembled a sizable portion of my button stash, my hot glue gun and a disposable plate so I could start sorting my buttons into colors, shapes and sizes. I wasn't sure exactly how I intended to procede with the project since I was working from a picture on Pinterest but no specific instructions. So I just started randomly gluing some of the largest buttons around the shade, thinking that somewhere along the line I would get struck with inspiration and insight to what needed to happen next. You HAVE done a project like that, haven't you? I mean really. Who has not started a project like this without a clear battle plan before making your first move? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">As I glued buttons I began to see that what was needed was a variety of large buttons, intersperced with smaller ones and a healthy mix of colors. What also became apparent was that fitting the buttons together, especially as I got more and more glued to the shade would get trickier and a little bit more difficult since the buttons are not flexible and neither is the glue once it grabs hold and dries....which is almost instantly! So at that point, I decided that my best move would be to stop gluing to the body of the shade and concentrate on putting the buttons around the top edge and the bottom edge of the shade. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyq5jSk63igEkpNOA4xcZC4RtZ3eK77ewlXmjKg9BvmviOOVJoH4mzhyphenhyphenT8DEx9o5AeKBdNlBUoxWfbBZDSburiVqe2klpyOLHMCizW30cSMylbAPMXS5Btsg_pK9ztaaNBO1hh48iaJt4q/s1600/IMG_2688-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyq5jSk63igEkpNOA4xcZC4RtZ3eK77ewlXmjKg9BvmviOOVJoH4mzhyphenhyphenT8DEx9o5AeKBdNlBUoxWfbBZDSburiVqe2klpyOLHMCizW30cSMylbAPMXS5Btsg_pK9ztaaNBO1hh48iaJt4q/s320/IMG_2688-001.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I used small buttons on the top edge.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14KvUi5rtCdswJ72LyGYky-I_SFequC_PkQN8PBDfE_DHdnVNKhFPZVsr0yP4wBoggUcu9UuRHXBX4IIrRDpyHijXmF-HpnuJJdDOdycb-l8bL_VmOjlu8qTT_k9h4XekNJGc1CEJ6PNn/s1600/IMG_2690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><img border="0" height="75" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh14KvUi5rtCdswJ72LyGYky-I_SFequC_PkQN8PBDfE_DHdnVNKhFPZVsr0yP4wBoggUcu9UuRHXBX4IIrRDpyHijXmF-HpnuJJdDOdycb-l8bL_VmOjlu8qTT_k9h4XekNJGc1CEJ6PNn/s320/IMG_2690.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">I used slightly larger buttons on the bottom edge.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">After I glued buttons on the top edge, as well as the bottom edge, I then began filling in buttons around the inside section of the shade until most of the white areas were filled. There were some small sections that were left open and I had no buttons that would fit---<strong>believe me</strong>, I tried to make them fit. As I said, buttons are NOT flexible so I concluded that I would need to fill in those gaps (if I wanted all the spaces filled) with something smaller. I remembered that I had some small brads, as well as some dots and rhinestones with adhesive backing on them. So I got those out to help fill in the remaining spaces. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">The result? Well, here ya go!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Oj8hFB8b6YUEIvwJb2Di-JjX5unaVH6p-FUwKJZS7w6vQry5iApVh-s6BJ2pHDnOduG-ejs5FffCPRJhycJjh-jHccekITJcGeayRhdNB-m2_ycB-HcBV8O30y4M1avNERdmedwQNI63/s1600/IMG_2691.JPG" imageanchor="1"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Oj8hFB8b6YUEIvwJb2Di-JjX5unaVH6p-FUwKJZS7w6vQry5iApVh-s6BJ2pHDnOduG-ejs5FffCPRJhycJjh-jHccekITJcGeayRhdNB-m2_ycB-HcBV8O30y4M1avNERdmedwQNI63/s320/IMG_2691.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">So the lamp shade project is pretty much finished and I am basically happy with how it turned out. I will probably go back and fill in a few more "gaps" between buttons but truthfully, the gaps are not THAT apparent when you are looking at it in person. They tend to show up more in the photograph. So whether I put on more embellishements is still up in the air. The bigger issue is now that the shade is looking a tad more presentable, does it go with the lamp? In a word, NO! So I see another project in my future involving this lamp. I have considered three options: painting it, applying decoupage and encasing it in cloth that is gathered around the neck of the lamp. Not sure yet what I'll do but when and if I do, I'll post pictures! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">In the meantime, if you find a lamp shade around your home that is need of help (I recommend selecting a fairly small shade for a project like this) why not consider using this method to fix it? Heck, you could even start with a BRAND NEW shade and do this! All you need is a hot glue gun, an assortment of buttons or even a lot of one kind and color and some spare time to glue them to the shade. Craft stores sell them in bulk so it's not hard to get an assortment of buttons for not much money. Gluing the buttons is not difficult and you can put on some tunes, sing along and still glue buttons without too much risk of making a mistake. One thing I forgot to mention is that if you do make a mistake and glue on a button and decide it's not the right size, shape or color, they tend to pop off pretty easily if you apply firm, upward pressure. So it's a forgiving craft! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">One of the happy benefits of retirement is that every day you have the chance to work on projects like this that previously would have been put off to the weekend or on a day off. Since every day is "Saturday" when you're retired, I don't have to do that. Each day gives me the option of having fun and working on things that I choose to do rather than things that I MUST do. No one mentioned that perk of retirement before I retired so let me be the first to say, it is one of the BEST things <u>ever</u> about being retired! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">Happy Trails~~~</span><br />
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<span style="color: #4c1130;">Marcia</span> Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4774592798837481659.post-62133532227900836542012-06-06T19:22:00.000-05:002012-06-06T19:23:11.979-05:00Caution: Larry Wrote This Post!<span style="color: #073763;"><strong>A few days ago Marcia wrote a blog post about mustaches, etc. She read it to me and at the end she had tears in her eyes. So I thought perhaps it brought back some memories that made her tear up. So I said, "Why are you crying?" She said, "You're not a writer." And I said,"Thank you for that endorsement." So proceed with caution---you have been warned. If you came here today expecting the same eloquent prose that you're used to reading on this blog, STOP reading now. For you will be sadly disappointed. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><strong>I spent the day doing a couple of projects I have been dragging my feet on. I made a Camper Ramp to assist in replacing the camper tires. If you want to know what this is, you can google the term "Trailer Aid" and find examples. But mine is home made. I may not be a writer but I do have some handyman skills. (On edit: Marcia says she is grateful for that!) </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Two pictures below will give you an idea of how this ramp works. I am going to put it in action next week and will report back with pictures and let you know how well it worked or not. </strong></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZ8FMg2bojbzqmo08faQAKOTmgc95Un7tsaKwBExvSlqnMSmJ8SiifUusRxuWTygcnP41thUp35LGPdpmCYGN0OBl8HqLs83tC3aFWgzgHnUqWLGeDT1aH9CIPgiN6ZXwHd6j8kiaBipN/s1600/IMG_2313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZ8FMg2bojbzqmo08faQAKOTmgc95Un7tsaKwBExvSlqnMSmJ8SiifUusRxuWTygcnP41thUp35LGPdpmCYGN0OBl8HqLs83tC3aFWgzgHnUqWLGeDT1aH9CIPgiN6ZXwHd6j8kiaBipN/s320/IMG_2313.JPG" width="320" /></strong></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Trailer Ramp for Changing Tires</strong></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3_jQn1XDG1YH2Cd8Z5XLWmSHyUY7FzAKEROKw1uZ8mubD8R0s49PDH1PiJJZKHApLPyszghXAnhyphenhyphenjjULBWtA_aovdMJpf8BQvRTIUHy2yQMLP3I2VxoRsPt5aclhyxlcBf-5LonlHLPN/s1600/IMG_2312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3_jQn1XDG1YH2Cd8Z5XLWmSHyUY7FzAKEROKw1uZ8mubD8R0s49PDH1PiJJZKHApLPyszghXAnhyphenhyphenjjULBWtA_aovdMJpf8BQvRTIUHy2yQMLP3I2VxoRsPt5aclhyxlcBf-5LonlHLPN/s320/IMG_2312.JPG" width="320" /></strong></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong>End View of Ramp</strong></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Another project I needed to do and have been putting off was the wheels needed to be painted on my truck. They were rusted and pitted. So I got the sandpaper out, sanded the rims, cleaned them, primed them and repainted. Below are pix that show the process. </strong></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8Oj6C_834bqAXlPejKEy_OQB6Vcs4-tGi3xyMoY5wP8Hw575o9lvjJ1YlQZTq7lMNK3VSrdjFtO-JM_C61A3RLIIArqIcneDrVlOhIO5VO8I6j0eWwlc-7j6pTcGT697BKNglAZEkBW6/s1600/IMG_2310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8Oj6C_834bqAXlPejKEy_OQB6Vcs4-tGi3xyMoY5wP8Hw575o9lvjJ1YlQZTq7lMNK3VSrdjFtO-JM_C61A3RLIIArqIcneDrVlOhIO5VO8I6j0eWwlc-7j6pTcGT697BKNglAZEkBW6/s320/IMG_2310.JPG" width="320" /></strong></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Cleaned and Sanded </strong></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_y20iddxmJww2NojU55FB-lHkuG8_ngOx6gRR9_f_hgDFrj5x_1mr6xpoeJZEVy4o_6I0alV-i4CS4JmuRSEyFPNYXcpzfCAVDIgLZgZY5ei2Pl077-B7_agQyS3Gj4ebAgrVfrUpRvPz/s1600/IMG_2309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_y20iddxmJww2NojU55FB-lHkuG8_ngOx6gRR9_f_hgDFrj5x_1mr6xpoeJZEVy4o_6I0alV-i4CS4JmuRSEyFPNYXcpzfCAVDIgLZgZY5ei2Pl077-B7_agQyS3Gj4ebAgrVfrUpRvPz/s320/IMG_2309.JPG" width="320" /></strong></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Primed </strong></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7WoUtITgHkZtz2UJ6r9bn-3MFFT5UWv1tgWvP_-IiW95SE3HGiI491nRbsYYbONN7VvZ5k2cjo-f9ZJFZ4mQSFuP9gagVr5Il-2OMDSqMyZK0-sP2P4YUDCaEUUX5PQWGIeSzwdrKWrA/s1600/IMG_2311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7WoUtITgHkZtz2UJ6r9bn-3MFFT5UWv1tgWvP_-IiW95SE3HGiI491nRbsYYbONN7VvZ5k2cjo-f9ZJFZ4mQSFuP9gagVr5Il-2OMDSqMyZK0-sP2P4YUDCaEUUX5PQWGIeSzwdrKWrA/s320/IMG_2311.JPG" width="320" /></strong></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Completed Tire with New Paint</strong></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #073763;"><strong>The upside of all this activity was I got two projects out of the way that needed to be done. However, the downside is I got a sunburn and I missed my afternoon nap. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Will report on the ramp after I put it into action next week. If you got this far, thanks for reading. </strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Hasta la Vista, Baby!</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: #073763;"><strong>Larry</strong></span>Marcia and Larryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03942666273628528848noreply@blogger.com1