It's likely that some of my friends are growing tired of me recommending that "Aging With Grace," book I read last year and enjoyed so much. It's also likely I'm going to keep recommending it. And, I can't tell you how many times since savoring those pages, I've sat down to write something new I've learned about being a mother-in-law, having grown and married sons, grandchildren, or another brand new daughter-in-law, or a myriad of other parenting nuggets of what sort of feels like it might be a little bit of wisdom. But then either my fingers rest on the keyboard and my mind goes blank or... (more often), I worry that I'll sound like a know-it-all. And I really don't want to sound like a know-it-all. Being a know-it-all is sooo unattractive. Then today I was having a deep ... View Post
Penguins, Puddles, & Squishy Worms
My Dad used to tell the same jokes over, and over, and over, and over. No one ever seemed to mind though. In fact, most people enjoyed my Dad so much that they just let him tell them over and over, and they laughed as if they'd heard them for the very first time. I miss my Dad's jokes, and I miss my Dad. I too, tell a story over and over. I'm not so sure people enjoy hearing it over and over, but I tell it anyways. Just because. Mum used to drop me off early for kindergarten at Ashcroft Elementary, because I loved playing Duck, Duck, Goose outside the school before class started. She and my brother would watch me get out of the car, and walk until I was safely under the awning with the other kids, and then Mum would leave to drop Larry off at St. Robert's for 2nd grade. After ... View Post
Scrubbing Stains & Singing Hymns
I was only at my son and daughter-in-law's home about ten minutes before the idea of playing our "airplane game" was brought up. Soon Lyla and Owen were carrying their small chairs down the stairs to line them up in the foyer. Then they pushed the bar stools from the kitchen out there as well. We each chose a different color of construction paper, drew pictures on them, wrote our names, and Vwa! La! Pretend passports! The kids got in line with their pretend luggage in the kitchen, gave me their identification and passports to scan, and told me their pretend names while I pretended to be the "ticket checker." We then boarded our pretend airplane, brought our pretend pets with us, clicked our pretend seat belts, and excitedly anticipated our pretend take-off. Oh, by the way, I was ... View Post
Frosty February 2022
I turned the page in my calendar today. February is finished, and all but a few of those 31 little blocks in the month of March are blank, which is what February looked like 29 days ago. I love having every weekend off. Yeah, you read that right... every. single. weekend. I've come a long way from the "cadre days!" And! February 6 marked the one-year anniversary since friends and family helped me lug everything I own across town into my new little condo with the great big porch! I cannot believe I've been here a year already! And I'm sitting here still laughing as I glance not only through all the "to do's" I crossed off in 28 days, but also across the room at my table. My scratched up, found by the road-side solid oak clawfoot table with a pretty greenish-blue table cloth ... View Post
The Sweetest January
A few years back I decided to post something on FaceBook that I was thankful for each day of the week... for 365 days. Thinking of things I was grateful for each day wasn't difficult, but remembering to post them was often a chore, and it kept me committed to social media, which, let's face it - that probably wasn't a good thing. About 11 months into the project, someone told me they were really tired of my posts. So I quit. The truth is, I was as tired of them as they were, but once I commit to something, I'm committed. Well, most of the time, anyways. I know it sounds lame, but I have always wished I'd have made it the rest of the year. I came so close, and then quit. When those posts come up in my memories and only number up to 345, I'm just so disappointed in myself for ... View Post
Thanks, Mum!
Walking home from school to find my mom in the kitchen getting dinner started, or taking fresh-baked peanut butter cookies out of the oven onto a page of the Detroit Free Press on the kitchen table remain some of my most cherished childhood memories. We'd get to enjoy one or two cookies, but getting started on homework was priority, and not until that homework was finished could we turn on the television for an episode of the Little Rascals or Gilligan's Island before dinner. Then one day when we were at Aunt Irene's in Toronto, Dad got sick. Real sick. Mum had to get a job in order to provide health insurance for our family, and our routine quickly changed. I'd often come home from school to find Dad lying on the couch with his foot propped up on several pillows. Blood clots were ... View Post
To My Son & His Bride
The speech I was going to give was typed out & printed. I had my glasses with me this time; (I'd forgotten them when I read at R & H's wedding). I tweaked it the night before the wedding. But when it came time to read it, I decided to just "wing it," got up in front of everyone, and my mind went completely blank. Well, I managed to get my point across, and tell the story of why my son & I danced to "I'll be home for Christmas," but in the process, I forgot to mention a few names, so I decided I'd blog my words to P & H just as I did for R & H. There are so many people who have contributed to who Peter is today - too many to mention, really. I still just can hardly wrap my brain around how beautiful a story God writes. Anyhoozywhatsit, here's what I had to say ... View Post
Memories of St. Patrick’s Day
It must have been around the time I was in first or second grade when my mother signed me up to learn Scottish Highland dancing. One Saturday morning she dropped me off at a Scottish dance studio and that teacher expected me to swing my short little legs up onto this bar thingy and stretch, and I was like, "Ummmm.... nopity nope nope. Not gonna happen!" I never went back. Then my mother decided I should take fiddle lessons from a lady named Colleen who lived around the block from us, back when "around the block" was an accurate description of where someone lived. I hated it. I waited until the last minute to practice, and then showed up expecting to impress my instructor, Colleen, who would be very, very unimpressed with my lack of progress. I knew I wasn't fooling her, and really ... View Post