Someone I love very much recently (yet very lovingly), brought to my attention that sometimes I imagine that others assume the worst about me. Let me re-phrase that. Sometimes I ASSUME that others assume the worst about me. I could have argued then, and I could argue even today, that in some instances, my assumptions may still be true with particular people, in certain instances. However, I had to remember that this young man loves me. And I still found this observation interesting enough, that I have given it a tremendous amount of thought over the past few weeks. I've often said that we all have blind spots, things we cannot necessarily see about ourselves. I don't know what the back of my head looks like, I cannot see the mannerisms that belong only to me, and I would not ... View Post
If My School Shoes Could Talk
School shoes. That's what I call my sneakers, because there's usually at least one interaction or conversation every day that I leave with a "take-away." I used to tell my sons when they were growing up, "Sometimes, God sends us someone to set a really good example, but other times, He sends us someone who gives us a really good example of a bad example." And even at the age of 62-3/4 (that 3/4 counts ;).... this still rings true for me. Over the past 30 days or so, I seem to have collected little bits of "you learn something new every day" nuggets, some really good examples, and yes - some really good examples of bad examples. Here are a few I felt worthy of jotting down this morning ... Did you know there is a metal bumble bee at the bottom of every urinal for men to aim at ... View Post
Basement Blessings
There hasn't been one trip down to my basement in the last five years that I haven't regretted not painting over the Pepto Bismol pink walls. But I just couldn't paint them after my granddaughter pleaded with me, "But Gummy! Pink is my FAVORITE color!" So, yep, the walls are still pink. But it's time. It's time to get rid of the pink walls. So I began a few weeks ago at the first of the four walls, and started moving everything away from it. That meant going through books so that I could manage to pull the shelves away from the wall, which led to meticulously going through all of my books, which led to giving quite a few away, and you know - once I start giving things away, I just can't seem to stop. Then I started at wall #2, and gave away a ton of kitchen items I have not ... View Post
Mom’s Prayers
Over a bowl of spaghetti at my kitchen table one week ago, I asked my friend about her plans for the holidays. Knowing her Mom hasn't really been gone that long, I wondered how her traditions had changed, who she would spend Christmas Day with, and what the menu was. And then I asked her what she missed the very most about her Mom. Her answer took me by surprise, because I was expecting her to say she missed talking with her Mom every day, or being able to call and ask for advice or how to cook an old favorite recipe. And I'm sure she does miss all of those things, and more. But without hesitation she told me that she missed her Mom's prayers. Her answer took no thought. She knew what she missed the very, very most. I am pretty sure I stopped chewing for a minute. "You FELT ... View Post
I’m Sorry – I Just Can’t Keep A Secret
I am 62-1/2 years old, and that 1/2? It matters to me like it matters to a 3-1/2 year old. And it doesn't matter how hard I try to keep a gift wrapped and tucked away until Christmas every year - I simply cannot do it. I can't. I try and I try, and I fail miserably year after year. And this isn't anything new. Once when I was quite young, I shopped for Christmas gifts with my Gram, and we picked up a little toy car for my brother Larry. Even though Gram told me to be sure and keep it a secret, I was so excited that I dreamed up what I thought was a clever little way to share the secret, without sharing the secret - or at least that's what I thought I was doing. So when Larry asked Gram and I what was in the bag when we got home, I just looked at him and said, "I can't tell you. ... View Post
The Final Jig – And the Surprise Under the Kilt!
This Kitchen Table Devotions blog began initially as an effort to record all of my favorite recipes in one place for my sons - specifically my Mama Mac Meatball recipe, which is amazing if I do say so myself! (link below) It was also a place to record many of the fun stories worth remembering while my sons were growing up, and years later continue to include those of my grandchildren. My Grandmother, who we referred to as "Gram" when we were little, kept a very small notebook of the funny things we said growing up. Now and then she would pull it out and read them, causing everyone to laugh. In an effort to keep that tradition, I transferred over to my blog some of the hilarious stories I kept in a small blue notebook of life with Rory and Ian. My love of writing began in 2nd ... View Post
Baby Bumps & The Christmas Story
Have you been to Hobby Lobby lately? One would think it was just days before Christmas with all of the trees, lights, decorations, and reminders of Christ's birth. It's only October as I write this and five minutes into the store yesterday I began realizing I need to start shopping for Christmas gifts. Halfway through the store, I received a FaceTime from Colorado and quickly ran to the car instead so I could enjoy a fun game of peek-a-boo with my almost 17-month-old grandson. I will quit whatever I'm in the middle of just to see that sweet little face, and it won't be long before our 2-month-old can join in the fun. That FaceTime call likely kept me from spending quite a bit of money, but I didn't escape the store before being reminded that the holidays are fast approaching. There ... View Post
Changing Hearts Through Foster Care
"WE ARE PREPARING TO BECOME FOSTER PARENTS" (A Grandma's Perspective) When my son and daughter-in-law told me they were going to begin foster care classes, my mind went immediately to "Big Families of Michigan," an organization founded by Jeanne Fowler. I had heard her re-tell the story once, told in the third person, of the horrific experiences she and her brother Peter had gone through, and gasped with the rest of the audience when near the end she told us quietly, "and that little girl was me." I read the detailed accounts in her book, "Peter's Lullaby" of the torture she and Peter had been subjected to by her parents. I think my immediate response to the kids was something along the lines of warning them, because although I knew very little about foster care, I knew it was most ... View Post