The bearded one has returned from his trip to Ukraine, Denmark and Norway. I was really glad to see him come out of the customs area at DFW yesterday afternoon. I'm thinking that 3 week trips without me are going to become rarer. I miss the old guy something fierce when he's gone, and he misses me, too.
It was a successful trip to hear his stories, with invitations to return and go to new places, too. TBO thinks that he will do some of this at the end of our trip to Spain in the fall. I probably won't grouse too much about coming on home since the invites to minister are all at "new" venues for us. TBO likes to scope these out by himself...not wanting to subject me to possible poor living conditions. I think it is kinda sweet, but hello, we've been married almost 34 years...I am hardly a shrinking violet, or terribly fussy. Although one of the places he stayed this last trip sounded a little dicey!
But, as I said, it is nice to have him home. Nice to be back in the usual routine, such as it is...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Memorial Day
After reading Snooty Primadona's post about Memorial Day, I decided to add my two cents' worth.
My dad was a Marine in World War II. He had to get his parents sign his papers because he was only 17 years old when he went to join. This was in 1942, and even with a 12 inch plate in one of his legs as a result of a motor scooter accident when he was younger, my dad became a Marine. He was sent to boot camp and learned to shave without a blade in his razor, because Marines shaved everyday then...and Dad didn't really need to shave but about once a week. Then he got every childhood disease he'd never contracted back home in Oklahoma. It took him almost a year to graduate from boot camp. But he was a Marine.
My dad chose to be a point man because he always wanted to know what was happening. He told my husband stories about his experiences that he never shared with me. He was one of a handful of his platoon that survived more than one battle in the Pacific. I never knew this until many years after my dad passed away.
I learned to sing the Marine Corps Hymn as a tiny little girl...I could sing it today, and actually did sing along with the orchestra at the National Memorial Day Observance last night. I remembered my dad, my hero, the Marine.
The saying "once a Marine, always a Marine" was probably written about dad. Thank you, dad, for your service to our country and for the example you were to me of the meaning of patriotism, love of country and selflessness.
To all of the men and women who have served in the armed forces, I thank you. I thank all those unbelievably brave men and women who serve today. May you know that this Marine's daughter is grateful for your service.
My dad was a Marine in World War II. He had to get his parents sign his papers because he was only 17 years old when he went to join. This was in 1942, and even with a 12 inch plate in one of his legs as a result of a motor scooter accident when he was younger, my dad became a Marine. He was sent to boot camp and learned to shave without a blade in his razor, because Marines shaved everyday then...and Dad didn't really need to shave but about once a week. Then he got every childhood disease he'd never contracted back home in Oklahoma. It took him almost a year to graduate from boot camp. But he was a Marine.
My dad chose to be a point man because he always wanted to know what was happening. He told my husband stories about his experiences that he never shared with me. He was one of a handful of his platoon that survived more than one battle in the Pacific. I never knew this until many years after my dad passed away.
I learned to sing the Marine Corps Hymn as a tiny little girl...I could sing it today, and actually did sing along with the orchestra at the National Memorial Day Observance last night. I remembered my dad, my hero, the Marine.
The saying "once a Marine, always a Marine" was probably written about dad. Thank you, dad, for your service to our country and for the example you were to me of the meaning of patriotism, love of country and selflessness.
To all of the men and women who have served in the armed forces, I thank you. I thank all those unbelievably brave men and women who serve today. May you know that this Marine's daughter is grateful for your service.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Blogging Away from Home
I have been out of town the last week. I am visiting my family in Oklahoma City and Oklahoma in general. It has been very fun and fulfilling. Hubby has gone to Ukraine and Denmark, and I couldn't go this trip, so instead of stying home and working around the house, I decided to make a break for the border!
All of our children and grandchildren live in Oklahoma now, and several loved ones have asked, when are you moving back? The answer is probably never. Having a little distance between me and the offspring is actually a good thing, I think. I tend to compartmentalize a lot and when I am closer, my compartments tend to break down and I worry about things that are not mine to worry about. Like. adult. children. and their. problems. None have life threatening ones at the moment, thank the Lord, but I do know myself pretty well. I was the ultimate helicopter mom--swoop in and rescue whenever a problem arose. That really retards your children's growth, if you don't know this important fact. There is only One who can do that properly, and I ain't Him!
Our oldest grandson fell at school last week and broke his arm while playing on the playground. He is still in a splint and sling until they do another x-ray Tuesday. The doctor will determine then if he will need surgery to pin the arm or if it has begun to heal properly. I am praying, of course, that the arm is doing well and he can get his cast and get on with his life. I do think if you are going to have to have a broken bone in the summertime, that at the beginning is the best (?) time...at least there will be some swimming time left. He will miss the rest of his baseball season, though, which is sad. Last year the season was cut short because of unbelievable rains, this year, broken bones. Middle son, grandson's uncle purchased him the Chronicles of Narnia paperbacks to help him pass the time while recuperating. UK is hoping that this will help GS become an avid reader, since he is pretty much couch bound...we shall see, I suppose.
My sister received a national medal of honor from the DAR this week for her work with the children in Oklahoma City. We, my mom and I, are so proud of her. Although we have refused to curtsy to her, a small salute has been agreed upon! It was exciting to see her recognized for the amazing work she has done.
I have been a detective on this trip, also. My mom has a beautiful set of wedding rings, which had been missing for several months. They were in a very safe place, to be sure, but mom couldn't remember where that safe place was. Mom is a widow, and when she couldn't wear the rings any longer due to arthritis in her fingers, she decided not to have them sized up again. Usually she places them in the bank whenever leaving town, but last time, the trip came up suddenly and she couldn't get to the bank...hence the hiding place. Long story short, after a discussion with a couple of her grands, she decided to take the rings to have them appraised and put them in her safety deposit box. Thus begins the detective work. Mom has looked everywhere she can think of out of season purses, jewelry boxes, closets, artificial flower arrangements (where she hid them another time for several months), etc. I kept calling and giving her new ideas, but she is pretty sharp, she'd already been there and done that. The other day, she had to go somewhere and I stayed here. She asked what I was going to do. I said, "look for your rings". I had done a little beforehand and met her, "I've already looked there" scorn. This was going to give me a couple of hours of no interference. She did tell me that she was fairly certain they were in one room. So there I started. I got out the trusty step stool and began my methodical search. I found all sorts of interesting things...shaving cream to a hot lather machine my dad used...he's been gone 19 years, buttons, rings belonging to my late grandmother and her late sister, etc. In the last cabinet on the very top shelf, I found all sorts of travel kits, and lo and behold in one that had been shoved waaaay back in the corner there were the rings and the diamond watch, which I didn't know was missing, safe and sound. I called mom and let her know the lost was found and felt my trip had been a success! NOTE: Lest anyone think I am picking on my mom...I am so prone to doing the same thing. I don't have jewelry that I lose, but I am constantly putting other items in "safe" places, which then become "lost". It is a good thing that everything has to be somewhere!
All of our children and grandchildren live in Oklahoma now, and several loved ones have asked, when are you moving back? The answer is probably never. Having a little distance between me and the offspring is actually a good thing, I think. I tend to compartmentalize a lot and when I am closer, my compartments tend to break down and I worry about things that are not mine to worry about. Like. adult. children. and their. problems. None have life threatening ones at the moment, thank the Lord, but I do know myself pretty well. I was the ultimate helicopter mom--swoop in and rescue whenever a problem arose. That really retards your children's growth, if you don't know this important fact. There is only One who can do that properly, and I ain't Him!
Our oldest grandson fell at school last week and broke his arm while playing on the playground. He is still in a splint and sling until they do another x-ray Tuesday. The doctor will determine then if he will need surgery to pin the arm or if it has begun to heal properly. I am praying, of course, that the arm is doing well and he can get his cast and get on with his life. I do think if you are going to have to have a broken bone in the summertime, that at the beginning is the best (?) time...at least there will be some swimming time left. He will miss the rest of his baseball season, though, which is sad. Last year the season was cut short because of unbelievable rains, this year, broken bones. Middle son, grandson's uncle purchased him the Chronicles of Narnia paperbacks to help him pass the time while recuperating. UK is hoping that this will help GS become an avid reader, since he is pretty much couch bound...we shall see, I suppose.
My sister received a national medal of honor from the DAR this week for her work with the children in Oklahoma City. We, my mom and I, are so proud of her. Although we have refused to curtsy to her, a small salute has been agreed upon! It was exciting to see her recognized for the amazing work she has done.
I have been a detective on this trip, also. My mom has a beautiful set of wedding rings, which had been missing for several months. They were in a very safe place, to be sure, but mom couldn't remember where that safe place was. Mom is a widow, and when she couldn't wear the rings any longer due to arthritis in her fingers, she decided not to have them sized up again. Usually she places them in the bank whenever leaving town, but last time, the trip came up suddenly and she couldn't get to the bank...hence the hiding place. Long story short, after a discussion with a couple of her grands, she decided to take the rings to have them appraised and put them in her safety deposit box. Thus begins the detective work. Mom has looked everywhere she can think of out of season purses, jewelry boxes, closets, artificial flower arrangements (where she hid them another time for several months), etc. I kept calling and giving her new ideas, but she is pretty sharp, she'd already been there and done that. The other day, she had to go somewhere and I stayed here. She asked what I was going to do. I said, "look for your rings". I had done a little beforehand and met her, "I've already looked there" scorn. This was going to give me a couple of hours of no interference. She did tell me that she was fairly certain they were in one room. So there I started. I got out the trusty step stool and began my methodical search. I found all sorts of interesting things...shaving cream to a hot lather machine my dad used...he's been gone 19 years, buttons, rings belonging to my late grandmother and her late sister, etc. In the last cabinet on the very top shelf, I found all sorts of travel kits, and lo and behold in one that had been shoved waaaay back in the corner there were the rings and the diamond watch, which I didn't know was missing, safe and sound. I called mom and let her know the lost was found and felt my trip had been a success! NOTE: Lest anyone think I am picking on my mom...I am so prone to doing the same thing. I don't have jewelry that I lose, but I am constantly putting other items in "safe" places, which then become "lost". It is a good thing that everything has to be somewhere!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
The Queen Makes a Break
I should have seen it coming, but no. When you own a geriatric dog, some things just don't occur to you. Sweet Pea, aka the Queen, is sixteen years old. She just had a great check up last month at which time her veterinarian responded to my question of her longevity with, "Don't change a thing that you are doing. She'll probably live a lot longer, although she does have the beginnings of cataracts."
Well, ever since that day, she has acted like a different animal. Now, she still requires about twenty-one and a half hours of sleep a day, but when she is up, she is feistier than I've seen her in the four years she has been with Hubby and me. She's barking at us to get her a carrot, a dog cookie, a greenie, go out, come in, yada yada yada. Not just barking, mind you, loud, annoying yippy Yorkie yelps! What has become of my sweet tempered, if aloof, Queen of the Circle?
Today was the topper. It is Sunday. I just got home from spending a week with one of the sons of her former owner (getting to be an extra grandmother) and was relaxing with the New York Times Sunday Crossword...relaxing may not be the correct word, but I was being mostly successful. Sweet Pea demanded to go out, so I obliged, taking my puzzle with me out to the patio. She does her business, then all of a sudden, (perhaps not ALL OF A SUDDEN) but I realize I have no idea where the Queen has gone! She is not anywhere in our yard that I can espy.
Horrors! There are lawn tractors buzzing all around us, and although she is a mighty monarch, she is but six inches tall and only four and a half pounds, she could easily be missed by an errant tractor driver. I make the trek around the house to see if she's surveying the front yard of her domain, but no Queen.
I decide I must look farther afield, but am certain not everyone in our neighborhood will enjoy my printed "patio dress" and bare feet. Grabbing somewhat more appropriate duds, I begin walking out to the street calling for my liege. No answer! I make it two houses when a young man riding a lawn tractor stops and I ask if Sweet Pea has passed by...she has about 10 minutes earlier.
I am stunned, amazed, flabbergasted. The Queen has taken off on foot!with no escort! I walk on for a couple of houses and see no sign. Now I am beginning to become seriously concerned...she is, after all, sixteen! I hasten back to the house, collect my purse and keys and begin an earnest search of the circle.
About one-quarter of the way around the circle, I spy the little darling. I don't know if she heard and recognized the sound of my Volvo, saw the car or was really just turning around to head home, but there she was in all her glory, tongue hanging out and panting. I threw the Volvo in neutral, set the parking brake, got out and scooped her up. (As we passed the boy who gave me the lead I held her up so he could see her, he gave a cool head nod in response.)
She got a tongue lashing and reminder of her lack of stature when we got in...also several hugs and kisses. I guess the days of unsupervised potty breaks are over for Sweet Pea...I can't take the drama!
Well, ever since that day, she has acted like a different animal. Now, she still requires about twenty-one and a half hours of sleep a day, but when she is up, she is feistier than I've seen her in the four years she has been with Hubby and me. She's barking at us to get her a carrot, a dog cookie, a greenie, go out, come in, yada yada yada. Not just barking, mind you, loud, annoying yippy Yorkie yelps! What has become of my sweet tempered, if aloof, Queen of the Circle?
Today was the topper. It is Sunday. I just got home from spending a week with one of the sons of her former owner (getting to be an extra grandmother) and was relaxing with the New York Times Sunday Crossword...relaxing may not be the correct word, but I was being mostly successful. Sweet Pea demanded to go out, so I obliged, taking my puzzle with me out to the patio. She does her business, then all of a sudden, (perhaps not ALL OF A SUDDEN) but I realize I have no idea where the Queen has gone! She is not anywhere in our yard that I can espy.
Horrors! There are lawn tractors buzzing all around us, and although she is a mighty monarch, she is but six inches tall and only four and a half pounds, she could easily be missed by an errant tractor driver. I make the trek around the house to see if she's surveying the front yard of her domain, but no Queen.
I decide I must look farther afield, but am certain not everyone in our neighborhood will enjoy my printed "patio dress" and bare feet. Grabbing somewhat more appropriate duds, I begin walking out to the street calling for my liege. No answer! I make it two houses when a young man riding a lawn tractor stops and I ask if Sweet Pea has passed by...she has about 10 minutes earlier.
I am stunned, amazed, flabbergasted. The Queen has taken off on foot!with no escort! I walk on for a couple of houses and see no sign. Now I am beginning to become seriously concerned...she is, after all, sixteen! I hasten back to the house, collect my purse and keys and begin an earnest search of the circle.
About one-quarter of the way around the circle, I spy the little darling. I don't know if she heard and recognized the sound of my Volvo, saw the car or was really just turning around to head home, but there she was in all her glory, tongue hanging out and panting. I threw the Volvo in neutral, set the parking brake, got out and scooped her up. (As we passed the boy who gave me the lead I held her up so he could see her, he gave a cool head nod in response.)
She got a tongue lashing and reminder of her lack of stature when we got in...also several hugs and kisses. I guess the days of unsupervised potty breaks are over for Sweet Pea...I can't take the drama!
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