tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9090826403466895182024-03-14T19:16:58.361-05:00Retirement DazeRandom thoughts about the experiences, joys and challenges of the retirement journeyLChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.comBlogger835125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-4435035989033319932024-02-26T14:08:00.000-06:002024-02-26T14:08:44.494-06:00Mileage!<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby is helping me to celebrate birthday number 77 today!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Several days ago we had discussed that approaching milestone. He was ready to celebrate however I wanted to. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Physical challenges that we both now face had me choosing a jaunt to our favorite coffee shop just a few blocks</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> from home.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">What I didn't expect was that he enlisted three of the baristas to </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">serenade me as they delivered a delicious square of a chocolate brownie topped with a tiny lit birthday candle.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Yummy and just right for both of us to have a taste but still not go overboard on sugar content. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Drat! I should have taken a photo with my iP</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">hone!</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-40484044615847589072024-02-15T16:11:00.000-06:002024-02-15T16:11:34.584-06:00A January Freeze<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgx76nsg1hpC4B6wjm-8AVbyBfL7jK4TnHm-Odb8khs7m2bW8kcqdRsuStccQ7SjVa3PC0igEkMR8xZoGaK0TcDZ12JQkj1IhLnAE7Ie_6pC97SnmEGRbRoYXrBXZAY08E5-KoAWiKNW4BcPPAVsBKGZ5PXgEaVa-Wk1bCt3aVcotI07Zcpd8wOw9DGXUc=w300-h400" width="300" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Brrrrr! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: large;">Usually our south Mississippi winters are mild. We have to open windows and let cool breezes make it possible for us to enjoy our woodturning stove. </span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">January 17, however, offered a weather surprise. I was cozy in front of the wood stove when Hubby hauled in a two-inch thick circle of ice.</span> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: helvetica;">One of our 55-gallon barrels that collect rain water had frozen over. That was a fun morning.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">-30-</span></span></p><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p></blockquote><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p> </p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><p></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-35402527665615585362024-02-01T16:15:00.000-06:002024-02-01T16:15:17.136-06:00Always a Passenger<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">After a hemorrhagic stroke I realized early on that my driving days were probably over. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Several years later I was still in rehab sessions. The day came when one of my therapists, occupational therapist I think, set me down in front of a computer. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">My challenge was to use the computer </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">program that had me behind the wheel. Ten seconds into it and I was </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">laughing hysterically.</span></span></p><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I veered off interstate exit ramps on to grassy spaces, then into a downtown area. I ran red lights, ran up on sidewalks, scattered innocent pedestrians fleeing for their lives. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I didn't hit anyone. Even the white-haired elderly woman with a walker made it to safety.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Zero body count. Hardly realistic. T</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">he computer program must have been set so that the handicapped computer operator would not be </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">traumatized </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">with scenes of bloodied bodies. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Even though precise details have dimmed with time, what I remember most vividly is laughing til my sides hurt. I probably sounded deranged. But it was a good day!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-64063619861627396482024-01-25T15:29:00.001-06:002024-01-26T11:34:15.791-06:00Fishing and Freedom<div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">My parents were lifelong fishing enthusiasts. Anywhere they could wet a hook earned visits from them, whether local creeks, rivers, lakes, ponds, or places farther from home.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It was often from the bank of a river in Perry County, Mississippi. And of course they took me along. I was enthusiastic about catching, but short on exercising patience when the fish weren't biting. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">As pre-schoolers, my cousin Victor and I always found something to do when Mother and her sisters gathered at the river for fishing and a morning gab fest.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Vic and I loved playing in the huge vacant field where the parents parked their cars. When the adults trekked to the bank of the river, they left us in the field. We thought we were totally free from any adult supervision. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Years later I was talking to Mother about those adventures. </span><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">She said the adults always knew exactly where we were and what we were up to. They were far from being helicopter parents, however.</span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">One of our favorite things was catching the abundant tiny frogs that populated the field. I remember catching dozens. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">We always found a couple of empty cans that had been discarded. We filled them up with those little frogs. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I have no memory of our mothers ever letting us take any of those frogs home with us. </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I assume the mothers insisted that we release our captured frog friends.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Now almost 80 years later, I wondered if that field had been developed. And would I even recognize that long-ago site of childhood adventures. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Thanks to Hubby for a recent excursion</span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> that </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">took us past the field which </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">had seemed enchanted when </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I was four years old.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Of course that field has changed. Although it has not been developed, half of it closest to the river looks to be heavily wooded.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">The adult me no longer has any desire to explore that field or chase down frogs, little or otherwise. I do, however, cherish the patience of a spouse who treated me to a road trip to travel back in time.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">-30-</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-89212033208992812502024-01-17T14:19:00.000-06:002024-01-17T14:19:44.582-06:00Brrrrr!!<p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Frigid weather has struck the </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Mississippi Gulf Coast. The</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> winter weather we usually enjoy has turned frigid. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Right now Hubby and I are working on our computers and basking in the warmth from our wood stove. Earlier this morning we bundled up and met friends at Coffee Fusion. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I'm sorry to say that I skipped the Wednesday morning ladies Bible study that I have been going to for years. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">But the reality is that age and the effects from my hemorrhagic stroke on Good Friday 2011 have intensified.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Hubby continues to keep us going and doing even though he has health issues, too. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">We are both counting our multitude of blessings and trusting our Lord.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">May your 2024 be filled with blessings large and small.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">-30- </span></span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-82145721858530167492024-01-16T11:10:00.000-06:002024-01-16T11:10:30.871-06:00An Encouraging Surprise<p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Evidently becoming reacquainted with blogging is proving to be a challenge. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I totally forgot to check for comments on my New Year's Day post.Today after breakfast in front of our wood stove, Hubby mentioned I had eight comments on my post.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hearing from y'all was a thrill. Those comments encouraged me to keep working to relearn the how-to. And another plus was all the comments about your lives and the challenges and joys you are experiencing in this stage of life.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Bless you all with joy and physical and emotional strength in 2024.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-39602280051936220012024-01-01T14:45:00.001-06:002024-01-12T14:40:15.878-06:00Missing in Action<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>Hope to catch up soon with the blogs that I have loved to visit. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby is still periodically scheduling a bit of travel, but these days away-from-home trips are usually followed by several weeks of "recuperation." </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Our recuperation weeks still include travel, local that is. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">There's church, Bible study groups, doctors' visits, and meeting with friends and relatives at Coffee Fusion, and more doctors' appointments. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I am also attempting to become reacquainted with this laptop and the changes in how things work online.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Maybe I could "rent" a neighbor five-year-old to help me catch up with the technology.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-59966906760752410862023-11-04T13:27:00.001-05:002023-11-04T13:57:43.652-05:00Aging<p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Challenges certainly exist in this stage of life, but blessings abound. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">One of my major blessings is Hubby. He is caregiver, resident comedian, chef, and planner of </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">adventures in</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">local, out-of-state, and foreign destinations. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Another of God's blessings is that </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I am coherent and can recognize blessings and be joyful in them.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">May blessings abound in your day today.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p> </p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-27954576149141144642023-05-25T10:16:00.002-05:002023-09-02T15:39:10.072-05:00Blessed Assurance <p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">When I was a young mother, a visiting preacher had challenged the congregation at our church to read the Bible through in a year. I accepted that challenge. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">At that time my husband left for work before 6 a.m. He</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> would wake me up before he </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">left.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I would ooze out of bed and fumble around getting dressed for work before our two active sons woke up. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Once dressed I was ready for my time with God's Word. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It took about a year before </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I could easily make it through the scripture passages for the day without having to backtrack until I could be</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">fully awake and</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> read with understanding.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Passages began to speak to me of a challenge that I was currently facing in a demanding work day or volunteer time. At first I would grab whatever was handy to write the verse down. I would stick in purse or pocket. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That habit ushered in a major change in clothing purchases. Whether slacks or skirts, pockets were a requirement. When stress would strike, I could just whip my day's scripture out of my pocket and read my verse of the day.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As a retiree, I</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> enjoy a slower pace and stay awake now . . .most of the time. But it may just be that as a retiree, I am getting more sleep and are alert for those morning times with God's written word and the living Word Jesus.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-10874142210092147362023-05-25T10:03:00.001-05:002023-05-25T10:03:50.934-05:00Procrastinating<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Ahhhh! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The feeling of "I'm finished! I posted!" </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It lulls me into thinking I have overcome that irritating flaw in my character--procrastination.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I go on deluding myself that I will succeed in posting regularly. But I will try, try, and try again. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">That also goes for catching up on all you bloggers who post often and so wonderfully.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I admire you all but fail to emulate your dedication.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> Heavy sigh!</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-32379199970161246552023-05-06T11:27:00.000-05:002023-05-06T11:27:00.315-05:00Cottage in the Woods<span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">My spouse and I are enjoying the seventh year in our "new" home. In those first days my husband maintained that our home's north side looked more like the front of a house that would face the street.</span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><i><br /></i><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="2848" data-original-width="4288" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRA4XAJH5AruLb54UY4pDtMuxNdC-9LE2I_TDq9CZ4kOZcHDzQiPl69iYOZvFWYHT94MvfxmyYfulhJMUZuBxyIyE3rc22miOVQplGeS9TiHtRDBjKhW_PpLAlV2twiBHPRhkQLB_bwGzmcWGKr2HLYpNGO4RtDFHyZLkLDDW1qoYy1MUInhmP7-xA/w400-h268/_DSC0334%202.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></i></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-style: italic;">Our north porch</span><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div></b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">can see his point. But the street side of our property has a carport and the ramp up to our entry door, all under roof and with railings that help me navigate safely.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In contrast the north porch faces our "woods," creating privacy that offers space for unobtrusive storage. On the left east side is an antique cedar wardrobe that in former years held my stash of Bible lessons and craft supplies for my second grade Sunday school class. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">Several years later I graduated to working with fifth and sixth graders and then Vacation Bible School and after-school programs. Nothing got tossed and every space in the wardrobe was packed. </span></span></p></div></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Before we moved, a sister-in-law helped me empty the wardrobe and send the educational materials to good homes. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Hubby inherited the wardrobe. He has filled it with tools and other home maintenance essentials. He also added a large oblong storage chest on the west side of the north porch.</span></span></div></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: large;">We continue to enjoy our cozy home nestled among live oaks and maples. Azaleas have creeped over from the vacant property next door. We enjoy their gorgeous blooms every spring. </span></span></div></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">They have finished their display for this spring but now the jasmine we planted is in full bloom over the pergola at the end of the ramp that goes up to our entry door. We are savoring the beauty and the fragrant scents of the jasmine blossoms.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;">To the south is a blueberry bush that Hubby transplanted from our former property. It's loaded with blueberries this year.They have yet to ripen. Soon the birds and other wildlife will once again be targeting those tasty treats as the berries turn to red then deep blue.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;">I won't complain, though. It's the price to pay for living in the woods with birds, raccoons, box turtles and the occasional rabbit and possum for neighbors. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It's better than television!</div></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">-30-</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /> </span><p></p></div>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-54054809588546933422023-03-04T19:11:00.000-06:002023-03-04T19:11:10.258-06:00Trouble Commenting<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">For awhile now I have been having difficulty commenting on blogs I follow. The Google powers that be are often only allowing me to comment as "Anonymous." </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">As much as I have ranted, raved, gnashed my teeth and moaned, I have yet to solve the problem. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It was mostly with blogs I had started following recently. "Recently" may be the wrong word since my blogging has been erratic for a long time. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">But today a blog showed up that I hadn't seen in ages, and "Friko" was experiencing the same problem. She's way better at solving techie challenges than I am so I do have hope. I'm also determined to dig deeper on my own. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I miss so many blogging friends that helped me to stay sane and to do the best with what brain power and physical ability I had left after a 2011 hemorhagic stroke. It was such a blessing in my post-stroke journey staying connected to those early blogging friends. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Old and new blogging friends broaden my horizons, make me laugh and sometimes cry, but always make me thankful for their sharing successes, epic bloopers and insights to living life fully.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Thanks! </span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-66412369401496268342023-03-03T11:38:00.000-06:002023-03-03T11:38:49.222-06:00Scratching the Travel Itch #3 <p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A January 12, 2021, excursion north included the small rural community of Brooklyn, Mississippi, home to the </span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;">Forrest County Agricultural High School, formerly a boarding school.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Even as a little kid I was </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">curious</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> about that school. I couldn't imagine leaving my family and home to live at a school.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">On family day trips from our Hattiesburg, Mississippi, home to the Gulf Coast, I would see signs for that school. My curiosity was intense, but it was just one more thing that I wanted to know about but didn't ask my parents about. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Now I realize they would have told me more about the school or even taken me for a visit. </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I was a shy kid, especially reluctant about asking questions. I think I was embarrassed when I didn't know something. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was an adult before I looked back at those early years and wondered why in the world I was under the impression that not knowing something was a condition to be ashamed of rather than an opportunity to ask questions.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In any case, that January day Hubby took me for a look at the school that had fascinated me as a child. We drove around the campus.</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> Classes had yet to resume after Christmas and January break.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I resorted to that old standby Wikipedia for more information: The school is now listed as a Mississippi historical landmark. It was established in 1911 by an act of the Mississippi Legislature as an agricultural boarding school located on 320 acres of donated land. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Students from across Mississippi, the United States, and several foreign countries were educated there. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">No longer a boarding school, these days it boasts outstanding facilities and robust academic programs. The competitive sports programs include teams for males and teams for females in a variety of sports. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;"><span>Our brief exploration gave us a good view of classroom buildings, gyms, tennis courts and other facilities. Everything looked in pristine condition. We completed our drive around the campus, and </span></span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;">headed for the rural community of Carnes, last on Hubby's list to explore that day. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;"><span>Old farm houses and more modern homes graced the community. Most </span></span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;">were well-maintained with lovely landscaping. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;">I savored seeing homes surrounded by green fields, large barns, other out buildings and fenced pastures with contented looking cattle and horses.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #202122;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">But it wasn't long until hunger sent us south on U. S. 49. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;"><span style="background-color: white;">Tony's Brick Oven Pizza, </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;">a restaurant we had recently discovered</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="color: #202122;"><span style="background-color: white;"> in</span></span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122;"> the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202122;">old downtown area of Gulfport, Mississippi. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202122; font-family: helvetica;">We left Tony's happy and with full tummies. After the scenic drive home on U.S. 90 along the beach, we were</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> extra tired but relishing good memories about our day.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby definitely got his traveling itch scratched, at least for awhile. During our excursion I had totally forgotten my desire to take photos. By the time we arrived home, though, nap time won over any disappointment about missing photos.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 34); color: #202122;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-5800967100586414152023-01-17T13:16:00.001-06:002023-01-17T13:17:12.668-06:00Life with Hubby<p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">A father and son, relatives of our sister-in-law, dock their shrimp boat in the Ocean Springs Harbor near the bridge we travel often. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In the summer if their sign is out that they have shrimp available, my husband takes a couple large coolers and stocks our freezer. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">One Saturday morning in December, Hubby pulled a bag of that shrimp out of our freezer. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He spent the morning making a big pot of gumbo. We had other appointments that afternoon for a couple of hours, and </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">weather had turned chilly, perfect for a hot bowl of his gumbo loaded with shrimp, chopped veggies including okra, celery, onion, green pepper, garlic and tomatoes.</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I proposed that when we got home we should change into snuggly pajamas for our meal. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">What I actually said was "Can we eat gumbo in our pajamas?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby's response was "I would rather have my gumbo in a bowl."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Shared laughter joined potato salad, toasted and buttered baguettes as sides for my personal chef's delicious gumbo.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></p><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-42090659189451372692022-11-24T12:32:00.003-06:002022-11-24T12:32:46.594-06:00Thanksgiving Repeat<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> <i style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: white;">T</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I have probably already blogged about this previously, but Thanksgiving Day urges me to repeat: </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">When I don’t quite know how to pray about a specific challenge in my life or someone else's life, I just borrow one of Paul’s prayers. This one is from Paul's letter to the Christ followers in Philippi.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Philippians 1:9-11 NIV And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God. Philippians 1:9-11 NIV</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">What a comfort it is to know that I can put family and friends in the hands of One whose nail-scarred hands are infinitely more capable than mine! </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">May your day be filled with blessings and that you are able to recognize them for the gift the are.</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p><i style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: white; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 30px;">he Water Keeper by Charles Martin. (Murphy shepherd Novel Book 1)</i><i style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: white; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 30px;">The Water Keeper by Charles Martin. (Murphy shepherd Novel Book 1)</i></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-41221934625522289062022-11-24T12:14:00.001-06:002022-11-24T12:27:09.353-06:00A Home For Exercise<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>When we planned for our downsized home, we included a carport with a concrete ramp beside it </span>up to the entry door. The ramp was also under the roof. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It offers a great space for me to walk with my rollator down our concrete ramp, around the carport and back up the ramp to the entry door landing then back down and around again til I'm bored or tired. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Another exercise that the ramp encourages has me leaving the rollator locked on the entry landing. I step to face the hand rail on the east side of the ramp and hold on with my right hand. I step to the side with my "good" foot, then bring my left foot next to the right foot. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It sounds simple, but getting that stroke-affected left foot close to my right foot is a challenge. I repeat the process until the end of the hand rail. At that point I head back up, leading with my left foot, and bringing the right foot next to my left foot. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">That was one of the many challenging exercises that my physical therapist had me do when I was in the therapy "gym" after my 2011 hemorrhagic stroke. The difference is that holding on was a no no, but usually two or more therapists were grasping my gait belt then. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>Now, stepping solo, I feel no guilt in hanging on to that railing for dear life. </span><span>Ramp and railing are just a few of the features that make us </span>thankful for Kris Hines, our building contractor. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">He took our rough ideas and capitalized on the natural features of our property. The result is a down-sized home we cherish. He also fine-tuned features we wanted that help me maintain some degree of independence and mobility.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Earlier in his career his construction experience in anther state was with companies that focused on upscale housing developments. He was overseeing building entire new neighborhoods using the same few blueprints the company provided.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I'm nosy. I asked him why he left such a lucrative position.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">He preferred working with folks who were looking for help to turn their ideas into the home they envisioned. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">He said his goal was to take advantage of the natural features of a property and build homes that meet the needs and dreams of the owners.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I think he was bored with cookie cutter houses. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">He was a thoughtful guide and champion throughout the construction process for our home. We needed a champion. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">There were some subcontractors in the building trades who, after receiving specifications seemed to view specifications as suggestions and they could just do whatever. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Kris made sure things were done the way we planned. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>That was about six years ago, and this well-loved abode is showing some wear. Hubby had to repair the kitchen faucet recently, but o</span>ur home is still giving pleasure. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Today, cooler temps had us enjoying morning breakfast by the fire in our wood stove. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Afterwards Hubby exited to our screened porch with his computer and with a sweatshirt on to enjoy the brisk 52-degree breeze. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">That may seem warm for some of you folks from the north or higher elevations, but that is cold for coastal Mississippi. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It's not surprising this time of the year to have cold days here followed by days that call for air conditioning. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">A few days earlier, breakfast was in front of our wood stove with temperatures in the 40s. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">After breakfast, I wore my heavy jacket for a drive to our local coffee shop. Once inside ceiling fans and what felt like AC had me snugging </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">my heavy jacket</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">over my shoulders as I enjoyed hot tea and blogging.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">With age I can usually tolerate cold weather a bit better than in my younger adult years. Back then October was when I took out thermal underwear to wear beneath slacks or jeans. Now I'm comfortable and happy in slacks unless it's freezing or near freezing and windy.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Praying that this day is filled with good weather and joyful moments for you.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-13895869050288178492022-11-19T13:34:00.000-06:002022-11-19T13:34:02.769-06:00Smoky Mountains 9/25-10/2/22<div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">After almost a week of dry weather, Day 7 of our camping in the Smoky Mountain National Park was wet, wet, wet!</span></span></div><p></p><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It was also the day before heading home for us and o</span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">ur oldest son and family who had joined us for the last few days of our camping trip. </span></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Breakfast that rainy day was a delicious day-before-departure meal out of the rain at the Log Cabin Pancake House in Gatlinburg, Tenn. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">After our morning feast our son and family declined our invitation to join us for the traditional photo at the sign near the national park's entrance just outside of Gatlinburg.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">They had a schedule of touristing activities planned but met us </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">for an evening meal at</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Marco's Pizza,</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> a family favorite that offered indoor seating out of the rain. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby and I had enjoyed five days and most of the sixth day of beautiful weather.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Even the wet day was full and happy for this grandma.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The afternoon that son and his wife and three youngest arrived, we made our traditional pilgrimage through Cade's Cove. At the Cove's entry, the grands climbed into the bed of their dad's truck.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">They had the coldest ride but also the best view of the mountains, scenery, wildlife, and a dramatic sunset in the Cove. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Missing was o</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">ur oldest grand. His class schedule kept him hard at work at college.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">With age, some traditions have changed for us, but Hubby still rustled up tasty breakfasts for chowing down around a morning campfire at our Elkmont campsite. After breakfast the younger Skupien family headed out for hiking and touristing. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby and I enjoyed the campfire, a walk around the campground and a drive to explore.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">As evening approached, everyone gathered back at our campsite and campfire. Young and old contributed to the evening meals through hands-on preparation plus keeping the fire, conversation and laughter going. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Dessert involved toasting marshmallows over the fire for assembling s'mores, a required camping tradition.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The last morning our son and family headed out on </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">their return trip to home, work and school. Hubby broke camp. These days my job is to stay out of the way!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2tw63TaiU6PylKK9b6eMRpWADjaaUj8JNNj98wzjK_f09QZhANgyKjvPixtj2B8PoIlbCDPz2vk3PwrVHmEw0dN8qnh-FNZyCfs3hipJwvI7IKzzK8v54RuegerLqpSMPPPfMCpyJ9FQyURtxHvXLoUcwKIb4HzR638m2_Sk7CrjnUJ9Cawzqg6j/s1544/IMG_9855.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="1544" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio2tw63TaiU6PylKK9b6eMRpWADjaaUj8JNNj98wzjK_f09QZhANgyKjvPixtj2B8PoIlbCDPz2vk3PwrVHmEw0dN8qnh-FNZyCfs3hipJwvI7IKzzK8v54RuegerLqpSMPPPfMCpyJ9FQyURtxHvXLoUcwKIb4HzR638m2_Sk7CrjnUJ9Cawzqg6j/w400-h300/IMG_9855.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><i><b> Our not-quite traditional farewell to the Smokies</b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: helvetica;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">with just us at the national park sign</span></b></i></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-58262903506966402752022-11-05T10:32:00.000-05:002022-11-05T10:32:34.774-05:00Traveling for Wedding Bells<p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span>Hubby and I hit the road in early September for the </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">wedding of </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">nephew Matthew and</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Katelyn, </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">his bride-to-be. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span>The rehearsal and wedding were outdoors in a beautiful rural area of northern Maryland on family property between </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Katelyn's</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">childhood</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> home</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">and her grandparents' home.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Both homes were above a lovely green valley, just a small section of the property passed down and treasured by the family for generations. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I was seated next to </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Katelyn's grandmother a</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">t the rehearsal supper and </span></span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">enjoyed her account of</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"> the family history entwined with their acres and acres of farmland and forest</span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The wedding the next day was filled with music and scripture that honored God and celebrated His plan for the couple's commitment and loving treatment of each other.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It was also child friendly. The brothers of the bride ushered Matthew's and Katelyn's parents to their seats.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Departure from tradition had each brother holding a tiny baby in one arm. Those infants were cooperative, snuggled and content with their daddies while their moms served as bridesmaids.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">After the ceremony and before a wedding luncheon, we joined others taking advantage of chairs and benches set up beneath a large circle of old oak trees that provided shady comfort. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">There were even corn hole and other games set up for guests during the wait. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Then surprise, surprise, a personal chauffeur appeared. Katelyn's grandfather showed up in one of those Gator rigs to transport me to the barn, location of the luncheon. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">He drove up a steep ramp and into the barn. I had been wanting to ride in one of those for ages, and it didn't disappoint.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby appeared to help me ooze out of the Gator, and my brother led us to our seats.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">If that barn had ever been used for farm animals, it had to have been decades ago. It was pristine. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">There were banquet tables with white table cloths, flowers, and greenery. Lovely strings of white lights and the aroma of pulled pork, brisket and sides competed for my attention as the bridal party and guests were welcomed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">After Matthew and Katelyn did the traditional dance, s</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">ome of the groomsmen and bridesmaids followed with fancy dance moves and some impromptu moves that were hilarious.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The food was delicious and this old lady's taste buds demanded seconds. I could barely resist eating thirds and fourths. But people watching was also a treat, especially watching our little great nieces. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The six- and five-year-olds were flower girls. The two younger ones had weeks earlier convinced their mother and grandmother that as wedding guests, they needed white dresses with blue sash and bow just like the flower girls. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">They had no responsibilities, but their pride in their "wedding dresses" was apparent as they and </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">the flower girls </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">twirled and danced while their parents enjoyed food and fellowship.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span><span>With </span></span>the day's events<span> and a full tummy, my stamina was spent. Hubby and I savored goodbye hugs. While </span><span>my brother walked us to the exit, I tried to spot the wedding cake. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span>I don't think there was one. I liked what I saw even better--a </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">humongous tiered cupcake holder with huge, scrumptious looking cupcakes in lots of varieties</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>Yum! Perfect! Hubby's selection </span>was one of the various golden versions. Mine was a spectacular chocolate creation. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">My brother helped us across the expanse between the barn and our van. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I can't remember if an additional cupcake or two appeared after we were on the road. Maybe it was just the huge size of each cupcake. Or maybe my brother had sent us off with an extra dose of wedding joy. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Whichever, the cupcakes sure distracted me from weepiness at saying goodbye to loved ones and leaving for the journey from northern Maryland to home on the Mississippi Gulf Coast.</span><span style="font-family: helvetica; text-align: center;"> </span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-9305134787054014252022-10-24T18:07:00.000-05:002022-10-24T18:07:25.799-05:00Strategic Praying<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby and I had traveled in rain, coming and going, for the September 9 wedding of nephew Matthew and his bride Katelyn. But the outdoor rehearsal and wedding festivities had beautiful weather both days. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">My prayers for safe travels and good weather for the wedding had been answered</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I learned from my late mother-in-law's example. Her practice was to pray specific about everything, even if it was just a trip to the grocery store. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">Her sister Juanita was also a prayer warrior. She was a nurse and was often called on in the middle of the night to attend the entry of new little ones into the family. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">Since she was working full day shifts at the local hospital, she was beginning to suffer burnout from the late night vigils with relatives who wanted Aunt Nita to be on hand for their infant's debut. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span>Her solution presented me with another example about the power of praying specifically. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span><span>She started praying that all those babies of relatives</span></span> and friends would arrive during her daytime shift. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">God answered. She was able to be with those expectant moms during her regular working hours. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">We alerted her when I went into labor with our second son. We left for the hospital mid-afternoon. Son number two was born about five p.m., near the end of his great aunt's day shift! </span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">-30-</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-14617032280524814122022-10-11T20:08:00.001-05:002022-10-28T14:55:54.925-05:00Banishing Footwear Woes<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">A recent post on Madsnapper's blog sparked thoughts of my past and current footwear woes. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">For years, flat, skinny feet had me avoiding painful ingrown toenails by wearing sandals, even in cold weather. I just added socks.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">That footwear pattern also applied to vacations that included hikes on challenging trails, climbing around on huge rocks. Still no problem. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Things changed when I accepted a position with the Mississippi-Alabama Sea Grant Consortium, a research, advisory, and marine education program housed at the Gulf Coast Research Laboratory in our coastal town.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">One winter day a fellow female staff member called me out on my sandals and socks.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">"Linda, you are in a position dealing with the public and high-level officials," she said. "Those sandals with socks are just not appropriate."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I took her advice to heart. Decades later I was</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">retired and still hadn't found shoes that consistently resulted in happy toes. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Then Hubby and I stopped at the Nantahala Outdoor Center's shop on our way to a camping vacation in the Smoky Mountains.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>I found a pair of shoes on sale that were perfect. </span> I had never heard of the <span>Altra brand. Even on sale they were pricey. But a plus beyond the comfort was that I could tie them one-handed thanks to a strategy </span><span>my physical therapist had taught me.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The Internet was my shopping friend when those comfy shoes fell apart from daily wear over a number of years. A wonderful online consultant with Altra</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">helped me </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">find the same style even though the name had changed. I bought three pair. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I still wear them everywhere--walking, church or even weddings and funerals. I can fit my brace into the left shoe, snug the brace to my calf with the help of a velcro strap and I'm ready to go. The Altra shoes don't let my toes slide down to cause sore toes and in-grown toenails.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>The only drawback is that I can no longer tie the shoes myself. Hubby is now my official shoe helper. These days every brand</span><span> I have checked out features reenforcement of the top eyelets. They last longer but sabotage the one-handed strategy I had learned.</span> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I am thankful that Hubby is willing to tie my shoes.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I also wear Avia shoes, the best I have found of brands that feature velcro straps. They are super convenient and easy to put on, but they still let my feet slide down with my toes crunching uncomfortably against the front of the shoe. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>I only wear them for short periods, though, and t</span>hey are great to have by my bed, when I have to get up during the night.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Those footwear options that contribute to my mobility are among the many blessings that keep this granny going and glowing!</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-10523211963422331942022-10-01T12:37:00.000-05:002022-10-01T12:37:28.565-05:00Traveling Sanity<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby had planned three trips for us this fall. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">He loves to travel. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The first of those three has been completed, successfully and joyfully. . . mostly.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">As we prepare for the second excursion I am dealing with packing challenges. I am always determined to cut down on how much I take. After all, there is just about always Walmart if I need something, right?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I suspect there is a word for the psychological aberration of uncontrollable and exorbitant stuffing of a rolling backpack . . . and a black tote . . . and a large purse . . . and the glove compartment of our van . . . and . . . HELP!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">My strategy for sanity is avoidance, especially through a visit to our favorite coffee shop, although I don't drink coffee. But a hot breakfast with milk and water or hot tea works for me. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Until it's back home to finish that task. . . Sigh.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p> </p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-49783550106081281542022-08-28T16:14:00.000-05:002022-08-28T16:14:05.245-05:00Forgetfulness<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I am succumbing to forgetfulness.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">My blogposts may become fiction . . . unintentionally. Fortunately, I have a live-in copy editor who still has a sharp memory. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The post day before yesterday would have been wildly inaccurate if Hubby hadn't reacted to my plea that he read my draft. As May West (I think) said, "Getting old ain't for sissies."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I hope as long as I can see humor in daily life, I won't become a sissy! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Blessings to all you out there who are facing challenges due to age, changing relationships, health and other bumps large and small in your life.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">And thank you dear blogging friends for helpful and encouraging, comments and for posts on your blogs that enrich my life with humor, wisdom and new ideas for coping.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-44188353091079736192022-08-26T17:56:00.002-05:002022-08-26T18:11:22.642-05:00Anniversary<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby and I are celebrating our 55th wedding anniversary today. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">We launched our low-key celebration with breakfast at our second favorite hang out, Coffee Fusion. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby had come prepared for a surprise. He had two of the baristas come out to our table with a huge banana cupcake on a plate. A flaming candle adorned the middle.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">We quickly discarded the candle and then promptly dug in to the cupcake goodness.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Suddenly we remembered we should have taken a picture. But it was almost too late.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Undaunted, he poked the candle back in to a remaining hunk of anniversary goodness, whipped out his small box of matches and lit the candle. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It was an impressive performance that had both of us laughing. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1FfFN0Dc3_n8GkMuvmqQqEPoVG3Gi35uzfCoY05_SvBLXhmscIPMyBTZDRj7SkQwdL-mmQ9rVzCC5sEbAT2xh5Bh5nrbTqWL1nR-_f70m6y8l3HLEce5X5Hi3zfZmSP9cGgySUcsBkA_6VC7_zMkZDYktZ-8h1k-1YUH4IZsUXDqeeBUMikU4W97b/s2016/220826NanaYumA9511.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1FfFN0Dc3_n8GkMuvmqQqEPoVG3Gi35uzfCoY05_SvBLXhmscIPMyBTZDRj7SkQwdL-mmQ9rVzCC5sEbAT2xh5Bh5nrbTqWL1nR-_f70m6y8l3HLEce5X5Hi3zfZmSP9cGgySUcsBkA_6VC7_zMkZDYktZ-8h1k-1YUH4IZsUXDqeeBUMikU4W97b/w300-h400/220826NanaYumA9511.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b><i>Appetites derail presentation!</i></b></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Once again, Hubby had created a memory of love and laughter that we will continue to enjoy for days to come.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">After we made the last crumb disappear, I went to the counter to take a picture of the untouched cupcakes wrapped and displayed in a plastic case by the register. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The barista offered to take one out so I get could get a better photograph. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBf_NnYKHThaalk0AivHE71LjqY0BZyym3PLOr5YDoJBeXK0HeaOCJP3sGvYkS3Eg4OCOxlH2Jupr9Xgi9gqJ7Up8rG7DILTa4j_O971rgfOxFSRMUNQIBpdrx1Wjn6IGGXTvtkbxhTA07iRUk10OJo8uXNv-iOi-HJv0QmIqbnq7n7yWZ6CPa6QHN/s2016/220826YumB9517.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBf_NnYKHThaalk0AivHE71LjqY0BZyym3PLOr5YDoJBeXK0HeaOCJP3sGvYkS3Eg4OCOxlH2Jupr9Xgi9gqJ7Up8rG7DILTa4j_O971rgfOxFSRMUNQIBpdrx1Wjn6IGGXTvtkbxhTA07iRUk10OJo8uXNv-iOi-HJv0QmIqbnq7n7yWZ6CPa6QHN/w300-h400/220826YumB9517.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b><i>Helpful hands!</i></b></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Those wonderful employees are just one more reason I love that coffee shop!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">With both of us well past age 70, our downsized home for six years and four months takes first place among favorite hangouts. </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">We are surrounded by abundant foliage, entertaining wildlife, and good neighbors.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Plus we are only about an eight-minute drive to Coffee Fusion, unless a train blocks our way for awhile.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30- </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-56683385094731704492022-08-21T18:53:00.000-05:002022-08-21T18:53:38.838-05:00Scratching the Travel Itch #2<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">January 2022, Hubby had already planned some major trips for September and October. But his itch to travel had us going on day trips.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">"We won't go farther than Wiggins," he said as we headed out. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Wiggins is a small town just an hour or so north of the Gulf of Mexico coast.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">We headed north on a backroads route that we used to travel when we first moved to the coast long before the interstate.</span></div><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I recognized a number of landmarks that were still standing--a church that was still in use. Another church had grown and included a large addition. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">A number of the old farmhouses and brick ranch-style houses were still in use and in great condition. A few houses, a gas station and a couple of small grocery stores were abandoned, decaying and disappearing among vines and trees.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The rural character of that road may soon vanish, too. We passed a new development of homes jammed close together and all built to the same couple of plans with only a few cosmetic differences. The reality is that with population growth, people have to live somewhere. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Sigh!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">We made a turn west at a familiar intersection. A spacious brick home still sat far back from the road. The large field adjacent to it still looked the same as I remembered. But the field was no longer occupied by a dozen or so goats and periodically new babies, or should that be "kids"? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I sure do miss the</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> antics of those little ones.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span><span>When we hit U.S. 49, it was north to a lovely coffee shop we had discovered </span></span>April 23, 2021, in Wiggins.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">That coffee shop is a bright spot in a once thriving downtown area. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Meeting and visiting with owner Jane Ann Maddox had been a delightful experience. She is retired from her career of teaching physics at the nearby Perkinston campus of the Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">She and husband Scott offer a welcoming spot for locals and visitors interested in great coffees, teas, and pastries, or shopping for art and crafts by local artists and art students at the community college. </span></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNoK9OxOiWIDBVbAPuB2mRqjby0cEUsJDmFsaza61vbyOYnPgw7ppNV7_qsK5gO3K4jnnvd37SLRyT_dJa5UDKjQqEZPH9YktGuUR6-8ttWdj9n0oU9xE-vGQwzBT0pEz5CmVM7ORd3UAiMVnVFDjX5hj5AN0aYEOD-yI6Tkn8-PEFUDEcswr8XZ0e=s2016"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNoK9OxOiWIDBVbAPuB2mRqjby0cEUsJDmFsaza61vbyOYnPgw7ppNV7_qsK5gO3K4jnnvd37SLRyT_dJa5UDKjQqEZPH9YktGuUR6-8ttWdj9n0oU9xE-vGQwzBT0pEz5CmVM7ORd3UAiMVnVFDjX5hj5AN0aYEOD-yI6Tkn8-PEFUDEcswr8XZ0e=w300-h400" width="300" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b><i>Coffee Shop Owner Jane Ann Maddox</i></b></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Scott also conducts lessons in the demanding woodturning craft. Jane Ann was absent on the day of our January visit, but evidences of her character and creativity were still evident. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The coffee shop occupies a portion of a huge old building just off the town's main street.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Soaring ceilings are the original wood, restored to a beautiful finish as are the original brick walls. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A large picture window allows a view of Scott working in his wood turning studio Southern Turnings. Sound-proofing shuts out the din of the woodworking machinery</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Bowls and other useful items</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> that he creates highlight the varieties and histories of wood he salvages from various species of downed trees. He has a gift for unlocking unexpected beauty.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">We enjoyed drinks--hot chamomile tea for me and a vanilla latte for Hubby. And we still had plenty of daylight to continue scratching Hubby's travel itch.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; text-align: center;">-30-</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-909082640346689518.post-80538122035444446772022-08-02T14:51:00.003-05:002022-08-03T12:12:35.209-05:00Oops!<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0CSmFOcOFEORgrWFM3k7AXBAsGRVbtcwh6NbzGp4yap1bc2eK-tt8O-Nu_wQqETuOqNmtgpPhmOw5ynPxKYnaTo4zgOLY6MgaBta-aH27Nifb0UP5pPNDm8FXztFbxy6lO51l01_uNrwxMChxwX-dZiXWAAPxb6lEUparzikZ_8Se1-cRCBUa0Ugf/s1454/220801keys9495.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1454" data-original-width="1090" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0CSmFOcOFEORgrWFM3k7AXBAsGRVbtcwh6NbzGp4yap1bc2eK-tt8O-Nu_wQqETuOqNmtgpPhmOw5ynPxKYnaTo4zgOLY6MgaBta-aH27Nifb0UP5pPNDm8FXztFbxy6lO51l01_uNrwxMChxwX-dZiXWAAPxb6lEUparzikZ_8Se1-cRCBUa0Ugf/s320/220801keys9495.jpeg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><b><i>Missing keys</i></b></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br />Monday I had another senior moment. Hubby spends a lot of time enjoying the outdoors working out and about on our property or on our screened porch with his computer.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">His recent strategy to make sure I can alert him if I need to is to leave the van keys with me. Pressing the red button starts the horn blowing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It is extra loud and he can hear it wherever he is outside.That translates into my carrying his keys in my fanny pack. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I had pulled them out of my fanny pack when </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I was rooting around for a pen to make a note while </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I was reading. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>I was </span><span>stretched out comfortably on our window seat reading when</span> Hubby burst through the door. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">"Where are you going?" he asked.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">"Where am I going? Are you joking?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">He was.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">While sitting on the porch, he had heard the van horn sound twice and then the motor started running.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">"Where are the van keys," he asked</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">We rummaged around. I searched my fanny pack and all around the window sill where I usually stash items I want in easy reach. I felt around on the window seat. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Hubby calmly suggested I look under me. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">There they were.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Oops! My bad!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Somehow those keys had wound up under me. That pushed the button on the remote which triggered the van's starter, and that started the engine.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span>My butt on the button! </span>Sigh. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Old age is definitely not boring!</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">-30-</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>LChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08369350929348290480noreply@blogger.com7