Lisa felt like she was pregnant forever and seemed to be in labor way too often so when I talked to the baby (over the phone - through the belly - don't laugh, if I can talk to cars and stuff I can talk to unborn grandchildren!) I told her she couldn't come at least until my birthday. So she did! Reba Michelle was born at 10:40 pm on April 29th. She weighed 7 lbs. 4 oz. and was 20 inches long. Not bad for two weeks early, hunh? Lisa and Ken said that she has black hair (just like her mommy did when she was born). Lisa is drugged up and being watched but is feeling no pain at the moment, hehehehe.
Welcome to the World, my littlest sweetheart.
As soon as I get pictures they will be posted.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Warning, Weird Mood
OK, I watched a movie that has me thinking. IF you knew what would happen when you had a choice to make and even though it would end in a way that would make you sad but with years of happiness before then - would you still make that choice. This character has an experience and knows that the person she loves is going to die young. She has two choices. Stop now before she is too vulnerable and change so that she's not there when he dies OR grab that brass ring and take the happiness now, knowing it will end soon.
I guess pain is part of life. If we shield ourselves from pain by not experiencing life then maybe that's not living. Told you I was in a weird mood.
I guess pain is part of life. If we shield ourselves from pain by not experiencing life then maybe that's not living. Told you I was in a weird mood.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Hiccups, Insomnia and Me
I really would like to go to sleep. I have this dumb quirk where I tend to have insomnia around the anniversary of deaths of folks I love and right now is a year since my brother died. I tell myself it's not going to happen and it ignores me. To make matters worse, I've had an ongoing case of hiccups. Ever tried to sleep while your body jerks uncontrollably every few seconds? ARGH! So the loud scream you hear around 4 am for the last few nights? Yep, that's me.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
My Visitor
Today, (ok, yesterday but don't you have to go to bed before it becomes tomorrow?) I had a very impressive up close and personal visit with nature's beauty.
Have you every seen a bird catch his reflection in a window and either preen to it or fight with it? It's pretty cool to see. I have a large plate glass window in my house and this evening about 2 hours before the sun set a bird tapped on the window. I turned around and thought it was a small owl since I have a gazillion owls in my trees. I went over to the window and saw the bird was a hawk. He wasn't full grown - probably an adolescent - but was still pretty big. He had flown onto a bakers rack I have on my porch and was admiring that pretty bird in the window. My chihuahua was totally freaked out and making some serious noise from my side of the window and this bird didn't care. He was too busy loving the bird in the window. I was on the other side of a sheet of glass from the most magnificent specimen of nature's beauty I have ever seen. It was breathtaking.
I wanted to take a picture but was afraid he would fly away if I went outside. The picture wouldn't work inside so I quietly went around the house to try to catch his image. Of course he flew away into a yard nearby and screeched his little heart out at my interference with his loving display of the bird in the window. Still, I was awed at my chance for an up close and personal.
Have you every seen a bird catch his reflection in a window and either preen to it or fight with it? It's pretty cool to see. I have a large plate glass window in my house and this evening about 2 hours before the sun set a bird tapped on the window. I turned around and thought it was a small owl since I have a gazillion owls in my trees. I went over to the window and saw the bird was a hawk. He wasn't full grown - probably an adolescent - but was still pretty big. He had flown onto a bakers rack I have on my porch and was admiring that pretty bird in the window. My chihuahua was totally freaked out and making some serious noise from my side of the window and this bird didn't care. He was too busy loving the bird in the window. I was on the other side of a sheet of glass from the most magnificent specimen of nature's beauty I have ever seen. It was breathtaking.
I wanted to take a picture but was afraid he would fly away if I went outside. The picture wouldn't work inside so I quietly went around the house to try to catch his image. Of course he flew away into a yard nearby and screeched his little heart out at my interference with his loving display of the bird in the window. Still, I was awed at my chance for an up close and personal.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Yellow, What an Irritating Color!
Saturday was a good day for this time of year. I picked up my camera to go take a picture just for this blog and decided it was a waste of time. If you know what I'm talking about you don't need the picture and if you don't have a clue what I'm talking about, then the picture couldn't come close to explaining the phenomenon.
For the past couple of weeks, everything outside has turned yellow or been effected by the yellow. My dark blue car looked green, white things were yellow and dark things were just icky. You could feel the grit on your face and hands and no matter how many times you wash, it always seems to be there. The grit was in your mouth and rinsing is something you do often. Make up is a joke for me because I wipe and/or wash it off almost immediately so I go without the color and stuff. I do moisturize a lot as well as use foundation to protect my skin from the grit and icky.
Now the "experts" will tell you that the yellow you see is pine pollen and it is too large to make you have an allergic reaction. Those of us that think those folks are insane deal with grit in the eyes, watering eyes, runny nose, coughing and sneezing. I only have one pine in my yard and tons of oaks and I think the oak trees are part of the problem too but what the heck, I'm not the expert - just the sufferer.
This brings me to why Saturday was so good. It rained. A nice steady rain that washed that nasty stuff into puddles that had the yellow floating on top and not on my skin. Yippee! It's still too early to tell if the worst if over but I walked without tissues today. SIGH!
For the past couple of weeks, everything outside has turned yellow or been effected by the yellow. My dark blue car looked green, white things were yellow and dark things were just icky. You could feel the grit on your face and hands and no matter how many times you wash, it always seems to be there. The grit was in your mouth and rinsing is something you do often. Make up is a joke for me because I wipe and/or wash it off almost immediately so I go without the color and stuff. I do moisturize a lot as well as use foundation to protect my skin from the grit and icky.
Now the "experts" will tell you that the yellow you see is pine pollen and it is too large to make you have an allergic reaction. Those of us that think those folks are insane deal with grit in the eyes, watering eyes, runny nose, coughing and sneezing. I only have one pine in my yard and tons of oaks and I think the oak trees are part of the problem too but what the heck, I'm not the expert - just the sufferer.
This brings me to why Saturday was so good. It rained. A nice steady rain that washed that nasty stuff into puddles that had the yellow floating on top and not on my skin. Yippee! It's still too early to tell if the worst if over but I walked without tissues today. SIGH!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
My Surprise
I've know for years that there is a park near where I grew up. It's a cool neighborhood park and is perfect for walking a dog (and taking pictures of grandchildren playing). My surprise that I somehow missed after years of going there is this - they added a trail a few years ago and they are slowly making this trail into a nice walking area. Why would this mean anything to me? You'll see.
We moved to the area when I was 7 and my brother, Scott, was 5. Times were different then and we had run of the neighborhood long before it would have happened today. The nearby creek next to the golf course was a magnet for us. During the warm months, we may as well have lived there. We would get up, eat breakfast, fix our lunch and not come back until it was time for dinner. Since I cooked that dinner for most of my growing up years, it isn't as bad as it sounds.
We blazed trails into the dense woods and underbrush along the creek. We waded and played in that creek until we were wrinkled. We built dams so we would have a swimming area for a little while. At the end of the day the sewage plant upstream would send excess water out and everything would be knocked down. (The mother in me that cringes at what I'm writing is cowering over in the corner and will not be heard from at this time.) We had favorite rocks that became our place to spend the day. Once I became a "reading fool" I would take a book and a towel or blanket and set up for a lazy day with my feet in the water and the sun on my shoulders. I had a couple of friends in the neighborhood that would hang out with me.
Scott was never that calm or still. He was constantly into something. He and his friend Stevie would build camps and play along the creek all day. There was sounds coming from their mouths that I couldn't have made if someone put a gun to my head. Of course, that was one of the sounds they made so I wouldn't have known about the gun anyway. Scott started this lucrative little business that kept us in candy and drinks. He (and I would help sometimes) would dig through the sand everyday for golf balls that the idiots at the course upstream would hit into the creek and either leave there because they didn't want to get wet or they couldn't find it. He would separate them into "classes" . The balls that were perfect were sought after by these same idiots and were more than willing to pay this scrawny little boy. The lesser classed balls were just as sought after but didn't bring as much money. Some guys would get mad because Scott was selling them their own balls but hey - it was found on public land not on the golf course. We weren't stealing the balls. Remember that excess water I was telling you about? Yep, brought those balls right down to our playing area.
It is almost a year since my brother died and I've decided to help improve the trail we used to play on as children in his honor as well as part of happy memories of my childhood. I'm researching what plants are native and non-invasive so I can clean areas of stuff that needs to go -(wisteria, ivy, poisonous plants and so forth) and plant stuff that will grow and be a good tribute. There will be no plaque, no signs and I'm doing this anonymously, not through the organization that is doing the renovations. Just like we used to play and get in trouble sometimes. on my own without anyone knowing. We used to clear brush and make it a nice place for us to play, now others will get to play too.
One more note about this area that my children and grandchildren should not read - stop reading! You HEARD me! When we missed the bus for school we hated going back to the house and telling Dad. We lived a long way from the school and it really wasn't all that convenient to take us out there. So if we had already pushed the limit - we would go to the creek and hang out under the bridge for a few hours and then go back home when Dad was at work and Mom was asleep (she worked 3rd shift and read for a few hours before going to sleep). I became quite the little expert at both Mom's and Dad's names. Not that I'm bragging or anything, but it's ok to tell you since my kids and grandkids aren't reading this part, right?
We moved to the area when I was 7 and my brother, Scott, was 5. Times were different then and we had run of the neighborhood long before it would have happened today. The nearby creek next to the golf course was a magnet for us. During the warm months, we may as well have lived there. We would get up, eat breakfast, fix our lunch and not come back until it was time for dinner. Since I cooked that dinner for most of my growing up years, it isn't as bad as it sounds.
We blazed trails into the dense woods and underbrush along the creek. We waded and played in that creek until we were wrinkled. We built dams so we would have a swimming area for a little while. At the end of the day the sewage plant upstream would send excess water out and everything would be knocked down. (The mother in me that cringes at what I'm writing is cowering over in the corner and will not be heard from at this time.) We had favorite rocks that became our place to spend the day. Once I became a "reading fool" I would take a book and a towel or blanket and set up for a lazy day with my feet in the water and the sun on my shoulders. I had a couple of friends in the neighborhood that would hang out with me.
Scott was never that calm or still. He was constantly into something. He and his friend Stevie would build camps and play along the creek all day. There was sounds coming from their mouths that I couldn't have made if someone put a gun to my head. Of course, that was one of the sounds they made so I wouldn't have known about the gun anyway. Scott started this lucrative little business that kept us in candy and drinks. He (and I would help sometimes) would dig through the sand everyday for golf balls that the idiots at the course upstream would hit into the creek and either leave there because they didn't want to get wet or they couldn't find it. He would separate them into "classes" . The balls that were perfect were sought after by these same idiots and were more than willing to pay this scrawny little boy. The lesser classed balls were just as sought after but didn't bring as much money. Some guys would get mad because Scott was selling them their own balls but hey - it was found on public land not on the golf course. We weren't stealing the balls. Remember that excess water I was telling you about? Yep, brought those balls right down to our playing area.
It is almost a year since my brother died and I've decided to help improve the trail we used to play on as children in his honor as well as part of happy memories of my childhood. I'm researching what plants are native and non-invasive so I can clean areas of stuff that needs to go -(wisteria, ivy, poisonous plants and so forth) and plant stuff that will grow and be a good tribute. There will be no plaque, no signs and I'm doing this anonymously, not through the organization that is doing the renovations. Just like we used to play and get in trouble sometimes. on my own without anyone knowing. We used to clear brush and make it a nice place for us to play, now others will get to play too.
One more note about this area that my children and grandchildren should not read - stop reading! You HEARD me! When we missed the bus for school we hated going back to the house and telling Dad. We lived a long way from the school and it really wasn't all that convenient to take us out there. So if we had already pushed the limit - we would go to the creek and hang out under the bridge for a few hours and then go back home when Dad was at work and Mom was asleep (she worked 3rd shift and read for a few hours before going to sleep). I became quite the little expert at both Mom's and Dad's names. Not that I'm bragging or anything, but it's ok to tell you since my kids and grandkids aren't reading this part, right?
Overheard Conversation
Grandmother on the phone with her daughter. Grandson/Son at her feet.
Grandmother says, "John, your mother says hello and to tell you that she loves you to infinity."
John says, raising his voice so his mother will hear him, "Tell her I love her to infinity and beyond.
Grandmother says to daughter on the phone, " I think he's got ya on that one. He wins."
John says to grandmother, "I think we all win."
What a smart child. What a lucky family. Well, maybe not luck. Someone had to teach him to be that perceptive.
Grandmother says, "John, your mother says hello and to tell you that she loves you to infinity."
John says, raising his voice so his mother will hear him, "Tell her I love her to infinity and beyond.
Grandmother says to daughter on the phone, " I think he's got ya on that one. He wins."
John says to grandmother, "I think we all win."
What a smart child. What a lucky family. Well, maybe not luck. Someone had to teach him to be that perceptive.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Blog Happy
I have two more blogs as you may have noticed. Photo Art by Gramama is photos I like and want to share with anyone who is interested. Dress It Up is what I should be writing a book on - cooking for the single person, the lazy person and for the person who loves to cook but hates to clean the dishes afterward.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Being Gramama
I am soooooooo blessed.
For some reason, I’ve always believed that I wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy being Gramama. It might have to do with the fact that after Robbie died my prayers every day included that I be able to live long enough to see my children grown and self-reliant. I kinda feel like I’m living through the icing on the cake. That icing is grandchildren.
Even though I don’t get to be with them all the time, I can talk to them on the phone and hear about them through blogs, pictures and so forth. IT IS GREAT!
I was able to spend some time with Tyler on Friday and I was in hog heaven. He is such a sweet spirit. He giggled, smiled, laughed and told me all about Pepper (Pep Pa), his dog. I had a wonderful time and I think he did too.
To the parents of my wonderful grandchildren, the grandchildren who are here now and those who will be here in the future, thank you for letting me be Gramama and enjoy the icing on my cake. I love you!
For some reason, I’ve always believed that I wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy being Gramama. It might have to do with the fact that after Robbie died my prayers every day included that I be able to live long enough to see my children grown and self-reliant. I kinda feel like I’m living through the icing on the cake. That icing is grandchildren.
Even though I don’t get to be with them all the time, I can talk to them on the phone and hear about them through blogs, pictures and so forth. IT IS GREAT!
I was able to spend some time with Tyler on Friday and I was in hog heaven. He is such a sweet spirit. He giggled, smiled, laughed and told me all about Pepper (Pep Pa), his dog. I had a wonderful time and I think he did too.
To the parents of my wonderful grandchildren, the grandchildren who are here now and those who will be here in the future, thank you for letting me be Gramama and enjoy the icing on my cake. I love you!
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Self Worth
Recently I have had basically the same conversation with 4 different women. This concerns me for several reasons. One - How do they recognize me as someone with the same affliction? Two - How many women feel this way and DON'T verbalize their feelings? Three - How do we deal with the problem?
The basics of these conversations deal with how they see themselves and whether they are worthy for the blessings they already receive and how they feel "out of sync" with the people they are with on a daily basis. The "I don't belong" Syndrome is a very real problem and needs to be addressed. The next little bit is not me or any one person but is a composite of some of the things I've heard from others and some of it is from me.
I am an intelligent woman. I know that I deserve a good, happy life. I know that I am a good and honest person who strives to do my best for me and for others. Yet I feel that I don't belong - anywhere. I feel so alone. I try so hard to serve others and want to be loved. Yet I feel unworthy of the good things that happen to me and feel guilty sometimes when I see people I deem more righteous, more worthy, just MORE - and those good people are dealing with trials that they don't deserve. Sometimes I wonder why those around me don't point their fingers at me and whisper about why I am included in their group. There have been times that others have hurt my feelings by making comments they think are innocent of harm yet cut me to the core. Surely I am not lovable, I am not comfortable being with those that I associate with and respect. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
Now before my family sends me to a different therapist and/or locks me away - These are observations of some of those around me, so put the net down.
Is it the way we are brought up? Is it the pressures that women have that men will never understand? Is it in the water? And once again - HOW do they know that I'm in the club with them? The most important question - What do we do to help ourselves?
The basics of these conversations deal with how they see themselves and whether they are worthy for the blessings they already receive and how they feel "out of sync" with the people they are with on a daily basis. The "I don't belong" Syndrome is a very real problem and needs to be addressed. The next little bit is not me or any one person but is a composite of some of the things I've heard from others and some of it is from me.
I am an intelligent woman. I know that I deserve a good, happy life. I know that I am a good and honest person who strives to do my best for me and for others. Yet I feel that I don't belong - anywhere. I feel so alone. I try so hard to serve others and want to be loved. Yet I feel unworthy of the good things that happen to me and feel guilty sometimes when I see people I deem more righteous, more worthy, just MORE - and those good people are dealing with trials that they don't deserve. Sometimes I wonder why those around me don't point their fingers at me and whisper about why I am included in their group. There have been times that others have hurt my feelings by making comments they think are innocent of harm yet cut me to the core. Surely I am not lovable, I am not comfortable being with those that I associate with and respect. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
Now before my family sends me to a different therapist and/or locks me away - These are observations of some of those around me, so put the net down.
Is it the way we are brought up? Is it the pressures that women have that men will never understand? Is it in the water? And once again - HOW do they know that I'm in the club with them? The most important question - What do we do to help ourselves?
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