Tra, la, la, la, la.....la, la, la....la

It's here, it's here, it's almost here.

December...

the last but best month of the year....where did the rest of the year go???????

Today I feel like a kid left all alone in a candy store with a fifty dollar bill.

So here I sit trying to figure out exactly how to spend my December moments goggling...'er blogging, when there's a knock on my door.

There on my front stoop is a guy from UPS with a package...it was "A Partridge in a Pear Tree".

The card read that it was a gift from, 'MY TRUE LOVE.'

WOW!

What a great gift.  Partridges are edible, I know because I immediately went on-line and found a few recipes, that sound delicious.  Apparently you roast them, as you would a duck, chicken, or turkey, and smother them in bacon, mushrooms, and if you like a zesty flavor, you can drizzle lemon juice over them 'whilst' they are roasting.  Or, you can prepare a hardy stew with them by adding potatoes, onions, carrots and cabbage, perfect for the 'family home decorating' evening meal.

Poor Partridge.  Such a pretty little bird...sad he should end up in a roasting pan or cooking pot.  Perhaps I will keep him for a pet.

However, the second part of this gift is even better...it's a Pear Tree.  How delightful.  Who would not like to get a pear tree for Christmas. AND...WHERE IN THE WORLD DID 'MY TRUE LOVE' FIND ONE IN FULL LEAF THIS TIME OF YEAR IN ORDER TO HIDE A PARTRIDGE IN IT?

Aside from the fact I have no idea what to do with this tree til spring when I can plant it, chances are it will  eventually sit leafless in a room somewhere.  Also, considering my luck with growing trees I don't believe it will have much of a future at all...and will remain leafless, and lifeless in a pot somewhere in a back corner of my property.

Still, I do appreciate 'my true love's' thoughtfulness, I must think of something to send him in return.

Hmmm, can't wait to see what else might turn up on my stoop this month.

Two hundred miles from home.

I guess I must have had some kind of look on my face.

Frankie:  "Uh-oh."
Me:  "Uh-oh, what?"
Frankie:  "Somethings the matter, you look like that grey cloud from the breakfast sandwich commercial."
Me:  "I thought I was going to get through November without getting depressed."
I sigh heavily.
Frankie:  "Except for the day before yesterday, you were doing pretty darn good.  Did you sleep well last     night?"
Me:  "Yeah, I slept okay.  And, day before yesterday, was well...just a bad day...that had nothing to do with with my November slump.  Today I feel...I feel...I feel..."

Frankie was settling in, I know she wanted more, how was I going to be able to explain.  Maybe I should write rather than talk.  Frankie is looking over my shoulder, her arms firmly planted on the back of my office chair as I begin to type.

'---November is my month of melancholy, and I have always allowed myself to be swept along on the swells and troughs as each day slowly ebbs to December.  However, after last year's horrible November, I decided enough was enough and I was not going to let this month to get the better of me this year, or ever again.

This morning I awoke and felt as though I was two hundred miles from home.  You know what I mean?

It's like you've been on a fantastic, adventurous, vacation.  You're tired, and yearn for your own pillows, blankets and bed.  Excited to pull into your driveway.

You check the time, gauge your speed, miles traveled, and realize you are two hundred miles from home.

Suddenly you don't want your holiday to end.  The urge to slam on the brakes is overwhelming.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Why are these last two hundred miles so important?  It's that spot between a rock and a hard place...tiny, insignificant yet hugely important.  It's that space between getting out alive or getting crushed.

I've been hustling and bustling through November, it was a holiday/vacation, it had gone so well.  I was having a ball.  Then this morning I realized I had two hundred miles to go before the month was over.  I wanted to speed ahead and get it over with...but at the same time I wanted to slam on the brakes.  November had been good and I had accomplished so much.  If the month didn't end, I'd still have time to finish things.

What was I going to do with these last two hundred miles?---'

Frankie:  "Yeah, what are you going to do?"
Me:  "I guess the only thing I can.  Slow down...take it one mile at a time, accomplish what I can with each mile that remains...and pull into the driveway at midnight November 30th."

Sixes and sevens

Man, today I am at sixes and sevens...can't keep a clear thought in my head for more an a minute and a half. I started out great, at 6:30 AM I was up and bunching Thanksgiving decorations together to store til next year.  But, then I thought maybe I should check e-mail, Facebook, and do a little company business, so the decorations are still in piles.

Then, I decided I should take a look at all the new Christmas decorations I had bought last week, and now they are scattered all around my office, and my hands are covered in glitter...no doubt my face is, too.

Jump, jump, jump.  I'm now inspired, and I'm back on my computer scanning my newly purchased Christmas card decorations in to my publisher program to make more holiday cards.

Bam...What am I thinking...clean-up, clean up.  So I start to file some things away...boring...and besides I had forgotten to post anything on Facebook, and also, I had neglected my blog this morning.  And, here I am, bippity, bippity, bopping around trying to put words here on this page.

Christmas decorations cover my desk, and two work spaces.  The Thanksgiving decorations cover the top  of my storage chest of drawers, and my kitchen counters.

My dog is antsy...my hands are freezing...I'm hungry...flippity, floppity, flop.

I'm going nowhere...and the day is fleeting away.

I think I need one of my anxiety pills before I make myself crazy.

Zippity, zappity, zit....I'm out of here.

Move over hairspray

...there's a new kid in town.

I week ago I was chatting with a friend and mentioned how I was trying not to use hairspray much anymore, but I missed not having better control over my hair.

She mentioned I should try Hair Gel.  I said I have even thought about that, but having never used it I was not sure if I could get the hang of that, and that maybe it wouldn't work very well.

Surprise...I eventually did decide to at least check Gel out, and the next time I went shopping at my refurbished Fred Meyer's store I went to the hair products aisle.  Oh, my gosh, I could not believe the products...for an old lady who has for years been a cheap shampoo/conditioner, one brand only hair coloring and cheap hair spray kind of gal, I went into culture...'er...coiffure shock.

There's stuff to enrich your hair, strengthen your hair, straighten your hair, add body to your hair, bring out the natural curl to your hair, color the roots to your hair, and on and on and on products.

My cart and I had pretty much clogged the aisle, and I was so lost in my thoughts that when a young woman walked up behind me, it took me a few seconds to moved my cart out of her way.

She politely said I was fine, and added she was looking for a new hair dryer, that her husband had finally, and at last blown their ten year old one out the night before...they badly needed a new one.  So while she was searching the products behind me I was still standing there like a deer in the headlights wondering whether to take flight, or fight.  I finally asked, "Do they still make Hair Gel?"

She replied they did indeed, but they didn't have a special section, the hair products were lumped by manufacturer, so I needed to look for a specific brand.

"Oh, dear."  I said, and started to walk back to the beginning of the aisle.

She took pity on  me...I must have looked perplexed as all get out.

"This is the brand I use," she stated, "although, I don't need or use their Gel."

She lead me to a brand I recognized immediately.  You know the one with the cute Kangaroo, that carries all their products in it's pouch...but loves to share.

"Here it is."  She said pointing to their Gel.  "And, look, it's on sale."

And, it was...boy, was I excited. I told her I was going to buy the two, and with her recommendation, I would definitely give their other products a try.

I thanked her profusely, and left her standing there trying to make her own decision...man, there are a lot of hair dryers, too.

Picture this, everyday, ever since my Gel purchase, I'm trying to learn how to use the darn stuff.  Too much, and my hair clumps together...I look like the young guys that walk around with 'spike' hair.  Too little, and I don't have the proper amount to complete my 'do'.  So, I never know exactly what my end result is going to be...but no matter what, it is much, much, much better than trying to coiffure first then glue it into place with spray.  Gel stays wet much longer and I have time to fool around with my hair until I am at least 75% happy with my result.  I'm getting better, but there is still a long row to hoe.

I think I'm getting to old for all this nonsense, and I confess there are days I'm tempted to shave my head and go buy that adorable pink wig I keep seeing in my neighborhood wig shop.

One of these days....
one of these days.

Shedding Tears

I am a very private person when it comes to crying.  I like to do it in private, mostly in my bathroom, or late at night after I get into my bed.  In both cases the tears freely flow, and I feel much refreshed after I'm done with a good long, self-inflicted, pity party, downpour.

However, there are occasions when periods of tears sneak up on me, they start with a huge lump in my throat and before I know it tears are freely flow down my cheeks.  This morning I can give you a very good example of this, and I sincerely hope you will take a few minutes to watch this little clip.  Even if you have seen this before it is well worth watching again.

http://www.youtube.com/embed/vcmfCXwAFs4

The lump in my throat started when the first girl stepped onto the escalator.  And, by the time the song was over tears were streaming down my face.  I felt good, warm and fuzzy inside, and was delighted at the response of all the people who were entertained by these beautiful young women...imagine how those folks felt, and how these few simple, heart felt, up-beat moments must have changed their day.  The mom with a tired child in tow, a husband who would have rather been home watching football, the old couple feeling alone and un-cared for...how this little act of kindness must have changed their attitudes, spirits, and over all outlook on life.

This time of year I'm easily overcome with emotions over the most simple things.  The Clydesdale horses pulling their decorated wagon through the snow.  The young man arriving home on furlough, making coffee for his family as a surprise, or, those cute little Hershey Kisses Bells ringing out 'We wish you a Merry Christmas', with that last little kiss ringing its heart out....ending with a wipe of his brow and a whew.

So, if you happen my by place between now and Christmas you will no doubt find me in tears, because Christmas music pretty much makes me cry as well.  Take "I heard the Bells on Christmas Day"  that will cause the dam to open and many tears will reach my chin before I have time to wipe them away.  "Oh, Holy Night"  is another that will cause an avalanche of water. "Have yourself a merry little Christmas",  "White Christmas",  "I'll be home for Christmas" will all get me to blubbering.  Oh and anything by Mannheim Steamroller, or the local Singing Christmas Tree....(insert tears here, for sure.)

I guess you could say this time of year I turn into a puddle of melted butter, or soft sappy syrup.  I simply can't help myself.  I think the tears rather than being cleansing for myself and my well being, are more about  the things I have bottled up for the hope of humanity.  All these songs have such profound messages, that we need to listen to them not only with our heads, but with our hearts. I feel we all long for one certain something to touch us during this time of year.  Whether it is to be home for the holiday, or wishing that we could.  Or, if it's the bells pealing out for 'peace on earth good will to men', or that we have belief we will have snow on Christmas morning.

Christmas tears, are good tears, emotional gut wrenching tears, Mine I shed for you, with the hope it will be my tears that help make all your Christmas desires, hopes, and dreams come true.

Happy holidays, Merry Christmas, and as Tiny Tim said..."God bless us, everyone."

Gues Who

Most of this year has been spent trying to establish my small publishing company.  It has been quite the ride.

 Time consuming, yes.  Mysterious, my goodness, yes.  Terrifying, sometimes, yes.  There are trademarking and copyrighting issues.  Research, money, and putting myself and my reputation right out there on one long, blank, empty__________________________________line.

Whew.

Ever since I registered  my company with the State of Oregon, I've been getting very unusual mail...they make me feel good, cause financial companies are falling all over themselves offering me incentives to switch over to them, some offering a $250.00 deposit in my brand new checking account.  Oh, and Small Company  credit, debit cards...wow.  Funny stuff, how in the world did these people get the idea I have be-jillions of dollars to start my company.  I've barely got the proverbial 'shoe string'.  Trust me, these banks are crazy...my company may not even be around this time next year.  I'm simply running with it, my ideas, my fortitude, my will, and my excitement at being creative every single day.

However, yesterday was the 'top banana' of requests.  I get a call from my cable/Internet/phone company.  It is a young lady, almost as eager as I am every day.  "Hi, I'm so and so, I see you have started a company and I was hoping you might have time to Blah, blah, blah.  Could I set up and appointment with you to have someone come by to talk to you about setting up a business bundle.  We think we can probably save you quite a bit of money."

Bless her heart, she really was sweet, kind and most certainly sincere.

When she stopped talking, I tried to be as honest and sincere as she was.  "Oh, honey,"  I said, "I don't know if my business will still be in operation next month let alone next year.  I'm still feeling my way, and have no idea where I'm going.  I don't think I'm ready to set up a business account at the moment, is there any way I could be put on a list for a call back in, let's say, 6 months?"

"Why, yes," she says, "I can."  And, she takes my name, and says she will call again then.

I'm excited...can you imagine...that in 6 months time I might be established well enough to have and need a business account with my cable/Internet/phone company.  I don't know what  my obligations would be, but what if I could advertise on TV with rates I could afford...wow, that really boggles my mind.

But, I should not put my cart before the horse...like the tortoise...slow and easy will help win my race.  I've always said I'm not doing this for the money, but for the love of the challenge, creativity and the joy of having a reason to jump out of bed and go to work.

So, Mr. Mailman, keep them financial company cards and letters comin'.  You too, United States Post Office, with your grandiose 'company start up' offers.

Even if my company goes 'bust' tomorrow, it is so great to feel wanted.

Thankfulness

By now you know I discovered I-Ching about a year ago, and I think that I have learned much from its insightful words.  I believe they have made me a better person.  Today it had sound advise.

It said, and I quote, "It's best to speak your heart today so that you don't mislead anyone.  Avoidance will only increase any misunderstandings; honesty is the best policy."

So, I have to admit I'm glad this is my last 'thankful'.   I appreciate you tolerance this past month.  Thank you, for that.

I want today to thank my family for putting up with me all these years.  I would like to list them all here, but with my addled brain I know I would forget someone, and rather than hurt any feelings, even by accident, I will simply say THANK YOU FAMILY, THANK YOU.

I want to do the same for my friends, those in my circle today, those I grew up with, those I worked with, all of whom have touched my life THANK YOU FRIENDS, THANK YOU.

I'm going to say thanks for the roof over my head, food on my table, money enough to survive, heat on chilly mornings, and a comfortable bed to fall into each night.  THANK YOU NECESSITIES, THANK YOU.

Then, there is nature, mysterious, beautiful...air, clouds, rain, sun...THANK YOU CREATOR, THANK YOU.

I could go on and on.  

So, I think you will be surprised with my thankfulness ending.

I'm thankful for Bird Lady, even though she hurt me deeply.

I'm thankful for the drivers who are so impatient they come up inches behind me as I'm trying to cross the street.  (So far they always miss me).

I'm thankful for all the people that will not allow me to get a word in 'edgewise'.  Come on people, I just might have something constructive to say.

I'm thankful for healthy food...I don't like you, you taste awful...but, it is great you are an option.  

I'm thankful for bad news because that make the good news so much better.

I'm thankful for my aches and pains, because I know my health could be so much worse.

But, most of all I'm thankful this is my last thankfulness posting, because THAT means Thanksgiving is tomorrow...yummm.

Thankfulness

This is the week of Thanksgiving, and the last that I will be posting thankfulness-es.  And, I'm betting most of you are glad, as some of mine have been...well...kind of....out there?....on the fringe.

But get ready, here is another unusual thanks posting.

Today I am thankful for 'stupid'.  Yes, stupid.  You can not imagine the giggles and happy moments stupid has brought me.  So, as you can tell by now my thankfulness is not for 'stupid' in general...that would be 'stupid', but for my own freaky, quirky, ridiculous, moments that have caused me to say..".Well, that was stupid."

So I'm going to share one of my stupid thankful-s from yesterday and hope it brings a smile to you face.

Shopping day, first time to visit the revamped Fred Meyer's store. I'm hum-dee-dumming and getting ready to go.

The weather is now at the point I feel I can wear my cowboy boots again, and choose an outfit that will match my metallic pink (yes,pink) boots.  I'm talking to Zorro. (He knows I'm going somewhere and he is already not happy about it.)  I reassure him I will be back in a few hours, and not to worry, I will leave lights and the TV on.

There, I'm done, I walk around the house making sure everything is secure, fill Zorro's toy with kibble topped with peanut butter, (to make my leaving less traumatic), and suddenly realize my feet hurt.  What was the matter with these cowboy boots, they never hurt before, had I put on weight so they no longer fit? I look long and hard at them.  They appear fine.  Hmmm?  Maybe if I take the socks off the boots won't be quite so tight.  I sit on the edge of the bed, and take one boot to push the other off.  I hold the boot in my hands.  For some reason I decided to flip it bottom up...I look at the shape of the sole...dang...I'd been walking around with the boots on the wrong feet.  No wonder they hurt.

I switch them around.  Now here's the thing...I had done this exact same thing just a few short weeks ago with my slippers.  Is this a trend, am I not being mindful, am I reverting to my childhood, am I going to have to learn how to tie my shoes all over again...(probably not...thank you slip-on's and Velcro.)  Or, am I just plain stupid.  Yes, that's the ticket...I'm going for stupid.

So, as I'm sitting there on the edge of the bed, I'm laughing my silly head off.  I try to make the excuse that the mistake was reasonable, the boots have very pointy toes, and look almost identical;  the fact I had to struggle to get them on in the first place simply did not compute...I blamed it on the socks.  The fact they hurt, did not compute...I blamed it on the socks.  The fact I had them on the wrong feet most certainly did not compute but THAT I could not blame on the socks.   I can only conclude the last time I wore these beautiful boots (waaay last spring) I must have set them side by side in the closet, with the left where right should have been, and visa-versa   Therefore, without giving thought, I simply drug them out of the closet, and tugged them on, assuming they were in their proper place.  Silly, silly, silly me.  Geeze, I'm just thankful I discovered my mistake before I left the house...can you envision me tromping through the store shopping for hours waddling like a duck.  Oh my.

There you have it, just one of yesterday's stupid moments. This morning I contemplated that stupid moment, and it still made me chuckle, and then other stupid moments came to mind and I had to laugh at them, too.  Standing on a table to pound nails...stupid...good thing I didn't fall.  Walking into my sliding door...stupid....I need to look where I am going.   Cutting my thumb with an Exacto knife...really, really stupid especially if it is you first day on the job.  Falling off my stool...in public...really, really, really stupid...did anybody in the neighborhood see that.

I'm thinking perhaps the older I get the more stupid I become....which is why I signed on to a web-site called Lumosity, a place where every day I can challenge my mental capabilities...and hopefully increase my 'smart'.  Wish me luck.

In the meantime, I am thankful for my 'stupids', and for the guardian angel that apparently sits on my shoulder and protects me from serious harm.

So,til tomorrow...Uh, oh...well, that was stupid........

Thankfulness

I know I already posted a blog this morning, but I feel compelled to write again.

I was talking with my sister, Nancy, on the phone a little while ago, and after chatting about this and that, I said, "I want you to know how proud I am of you."  She lost her husband last year around this time...I don't remember the exact day or date.  But I do remember the grace, beauty, courage, patience, style and humble acceptance she had during the time of her loss.  She and her family united under the comforting tent of their belief in God and His son, that 'for every time there is a season', and in their belief that Dick's ordeal was finally over and had crossed over to that place where we will eventually join him in a 'forever' future.

First and foremost, I believe it is her faith, and true trust in God that He would carry her load that saw her through her first year with such stunning strength and beautiful attitude.

But, I also believe our family heritage also helped as well.  We come from great, sturdy stock.  The Shaffers' are German, and though I can't accurately speak about their traits, we think one of their most (although not always in a good way) strong one's is stubbornness   Yes, tell us we can't do something...and I guarantee you, come heck or high water...we will.

While, on the other hand, the Peers' are French...although somewhat stubborn at times, we are also resilient,
"comme ci, comme ca" as the French would say.  We will do what we can in the moment we have and make the best of it.  Tomorrow will take care of itself.

It's kind of like three kids on a see/saw...one sitting on each end, while the third child stands on top in the middle of the board, and can direct which kid is up...which kid is down.  We are the kid in the middle.

I can trace the Peers' back as far as the Revolutionary War, when they settled in a place called Boonton, New Jersey, and the Shaffers' back to the mid 1800's when they arrived in New York aboard the ship Zurich, May 1, 1852.   This blending of cultures came together when dad met mom and magic happened.
German and French, both contributing to our upbringing.  We were taught tolerance, manners, work ethic, kindness for others, equality for everybody, to laugh at ourselves, and respect for all.

We weren't rich, but we weren't poor either, (I guess kind of lower-middle class).  Dad was strict, stern, but fair and quiet, very quiet.  Yet, he knew all.  Mom was stern, never raised her voice, and ruled with a good sized wooden spoon kept in a kitchen drawer, and when she spoke our full, official birth name...we knew she had HAD ENOUGH.

But, I digress....again.

The point of this blog is I am so proud of my sister and want to share that with you. I am thankful she made it through her first year alone, and for her beauty, kindness, understanding, sweetness, patience, and humor that helped her along the path.

Way to go Nancy....WAY...TO...GO.

Thankfulness

I pretend that I’m a writer, and my humble thoughts are more pale than ever compared to my I-Ching message today.  And so I’m going to do something I seldom do, copy and paste my entire message today as my thankfulness for ...

…..Grace and Beauty

 A splashy sunset bathes the mountains in a soft radiance; the light of a full moon dances on the surface of a rippling river. Grace and beauty adorn the natural world. Grace is not an all-powerful force, nor is it the essential or fundamental thing. By itself, it is form without content. Grace is moonlight on water, not the sunlight at noon. Yet grace brings artistic expression into the world, and enhances the quality of our lives. 

In the arts, grace arises out of adherence to form: the dancer becoming the form of the dance, the musician giving life to the form of a musical score, the painter becoming one with the brush and canvas. In human affairs, grace is also aligned with form — with mastery of aesthetic and cultural patterns honed by time and honored by tradition. Through appreciation of graceful customs in human relationships we apprehend the pure beauty of the ideal, of life raised above the mere struggle for survival.

Possession of grace, like the bearing of a beautiful gift to a wedding, can add stature to those in humble positions. Take care to lend grace and dignity even to small happenings, while giving the weight of deep and careful consideration to matters of greater consequence. Though it should not be confused with true substance, an artistic flair can take one far in this world.  

I don't know who the author of this is, but I am thankful to him/her for this lovely message.

Thankfulness

I'm thankful for forgiveness.  I know, I know that sounds ridiculous.  Hang on...read me out....

I think we would all agree it is difficult to forgive when we have been badly hurt especially by someone who has the qualities we love, respect, and admire.  We don't expect them to lash out, and cause us pain, in the most unexpected times and places.  But, once the words pass their lips, or their actions cut, there is no taking them back.  I suppose sometimes they don't realize how much we are hurt because their arrogance or perhaps ignorance has closed their eyes to the cloud that comes across our faces.

Once hurt, I first have to deal with the anger.  Yes, anger, down deep in my gut anger.  I want to lash out, make them hurt too.  But I am at a loss for words.  Hours later, I go through the could-a, should-a, would-a stage, boy, could I ever have a nasty, biting retort.

Then, I stew, for days, weeks, sometimes months.  I decide I'm never going to speak to these people again...and as for friendship...forget about it.  My wound festers, puffs up...gets puss filled.  Man, I really want to pop this boil...but that would hurt, and I'm almost over the original pain, and don't want start a new one.

Ugly has really set in.

Then one day...I look at the wound, and realize I can't live with the ugly any more.  I heat up a needle to sterilize it, and poke it through the festered skin.  The pain is quick, the results immediate.  I cleanse the wound apply medication and bandage and feel immediate relief.

Just that quickly, forgiveness, fills my body and my soul.  I know I will never forget the words or actions that had caused my pain, but the forgiveness releases them to the wind, and unless I CHOOSE to remember them and bring them to mind they can remain blowing around forever.

And so it is I am thankful for forgiveness.  Do you have a fester today? I think this would be a good time to sterilize a needle and pop away your pain.  You will feel so much better.

Thankfulness

Today I am filled with great thankfulness for those brief seconds in my life when I was so frightened I thought I was actually going to die.  There have only been a few, thank goodness, but they certainly put my outlook on life into a whole new prospective.

My worst was in February 1971.  I was still living in California.  It was 6 AM.  I had just stepped out of the shower and had not even had the opportunity to dry off yet when my apartment building began to shake, the roar was indescribable, my heart was pounding out of control, and my one and only thought was to get to my daughter still sleeping soundly in her bed.

I raced, naked as a jay-bird across the hall and threw myself on top of her little body.  I guess I must have thought I could some how save her, if the building crumbled, the debris would hit me and some how my body would make a cave of sorts to save her rather than me.  I could hear the building creaking, eerie sounds, like a haunted house.  Time was standing still...please God let this shaking stop.

Off in the distance I could hear things breaking, and I knew my precious, beautiful Blue Willow china was crashing to the kitchen floor.  I had been collecting the set a bit at a time when I had a little extra money, and had finally had a complete four piece set.  I loved that china pattern, still do today...but in that moment my only thought was that my daughter and I survive this awful trembling.

I thought we were going to die.

When the shaking finally stopped I sat up...Bonnie groggily, opened her eyes, I thanked God she had slept through the whole ordeal.  Now, I had to regain my own composure, so that she wouldn't know how frightened I had actually been. Eventually my breathing returned to normal, and my heart stopped racing.

Time to inspect the damage.  I checked the apartment starting with the bathroom.  Everything was in order, the medicine cabinet door had not even flung open.  The bedroom and living room seemed to be intact as well.  But, oh, the kitchen was a terrible mess.  The cupboard doors were all open, packaged things were on the counters and floor, and ooooh, my precious Blue Willow china had been smashed to bits.  One dinner plate precariously sat balanced at the edge of the shelf it was sitting on.

I wanted to be sad, it had taken quite a few years for this single, working mother to collect this set, and in less than a minute it was gone.  But, I was so thankful that Bonnie and I had survive my china no longer seemed to be important anymore.

And, my big question at the moment was do I clean up the mess, or continue to get ready for work...I realized in that brief second, the world still keeps spinning and life goes on.  I glance at the Coo-Coo Clock
and discovered it had not missed a second, the tick-tock the only sound in the place.

I  don't remember if I cleaned up the mess, or went straight to work, didn't matter then, and does not matter now whether I did or not.  The only thing that mattered was the fact Bonnie and I had survived. And, all of this event happened so quickly I don't even remember if my life passed before my eyes because my only thought was to make sure my daughter somehow survived, even if it meant I was going to die.

And so today, my thankfulness is that those brief, very brief seconds that I thought I was going to die, they changed me and put my future life into a whole new prospective.  I learned that I should not covet earthly possessions (I lost my most precious china)...that no amount of money will save your life it is your 'time to go'...and that you have to appreciate every beat of your heart and every breath you breathe.

I do still have the one Blue Willow plate that survived the quake, and I know the fact it did was a sign from God, a humbling blessing I needed to learn that my life was good, I had much to live for, and that He would always, always do what was best for me.

I think everybody should have those brief, terrifying, soul jarring seconds that you think you are going to die.

They will fill you with thankfulness that you survived.

Thankfulness

...is family.  Today families come in various forms.  Some have two daddies, some have two mommies, some have one parent, either daddy or mommy, some are different through race, and religion.  Then, in more recent times, I'll say since the sixties, a new kind of family emerged.  It got labeled "A Blended Family", and was composed when divorce became the norm, and couples remarried a different wife, or a different husband.  It was the children from these marriages that made the families blended.  There were now 'step-children' mixed in with new siblings from the second marriage couple.

It was trying to find out, like the old song went...am I...'My Own Grandpa?"

Turns out my family is one of the blended kind.  I had a daughter, my husband had three kids, two girls and a boy, and 'we' in turn had a girl.  Blended families are not easy.  New uncharted waters need to be swum.  There is child support, visitation rights to be adhered to, acceptance of new step-parent...or not...and times for adjustment.

When we first started out, we were poor...I'm talking poor.  Sure we had a roof over our heads, heat, and food on the table, but things like new school clothes for the kids, or money for a field trip were difficult to come by.  Every payday child support was the first check that left the house and we never failed to meet that obligation.

I remember on Friday evening we were doing our weekly between payday shopping.  I had a budget of $40.  There was a pet store next to the market, and one of the 'free' things we did was to go in there every time to see what was new.  On this particular evening there was an adorable peach colored cocka-poo up for adoption.  She cost $20, the kids immediately wanted to buy her.  I explained the problem with money, and the kids said they would give up some grocery 'stuff' if we would get the dog.  So, we told them if there was $20 left after shopping we would go back for the dog.

I secretly hoped while we were grocery shopping someone would go into the pet store and buy the puppy.  But, we shopped very frugally, and had enough money left not only to buy the dog, but a week’s worth of food for it as well.  We named her Fluffy.

Other events happened over the years, some very, very good, some 'not so much', but we managed somehow...we always managed to stick together through all the times, bad or good.

The kids grew up, went to college, into the service, got married, in some cases got divorced, re-married, and had children.

Our family, blended as it is, grew, and grew, and grew.  So much so that ex-son-in-laws are now like sons and grand children have started to have children of their own.  All in all, the extended family totals close to forty people...is that wonderful or what?  So it is, I am expressing my thankfulness for my wonderful family even though they are pretty much spread around the country now, and we don't get to see each other as I would like; I know they are just a phone call, e-mail, or a quick Facebook post away on my home page.  We are all eager to know what the other is doing.

I have no words to adequately express the love I have for my family.  None of us ever got rich...and we probably won't monetarily speaking.  But we are rich beyond words when it comes to love and appreciation of the roles each of us plays in the thankfulness of being our family.

Thankfulness

There is a quaint little saying that goes..."So far this is as old as I have ever been."  I love this little phrase.

And, thank God every day, my eyes are open, I'm in an upright position, able to pound the computer keyboard keys, and still have...(this is a biggie) my wits about me.

For along time I hated getting old, and my younger sister and I frequently spoke about how ugly the process is, and how not fun it is, and oh, the aches and pains we have to endure.  Finally we decided we could either laugh about this process, or cry...we have decided to laugh.

Getting old is very, very funny. Yep, it is ugly...u--g--l--y.  I've got wrinkles, thinning hair, some growing in places I never expected, false teeth, and chunks of fat in places that are just disgusting....ugh...except now I don't give a crap.  I prefer to believe the wrinkles make me look distinguished, my thinning hair can be colored or covered with a wig, while the ones growing where they shouldn't can be either plucked or shaves, my false teeth are broken (have been for two years now) and my chunks of fat prove I love fried food, tons of butter and cheese...good golly Miss Molly, do I love cheese.

Come on now, tell the truth, you are all trying to visualize me...so don't forget, that while you age you also get shorter (chortle, chortle), my once (almost sleek 'not' body) used to be 5'1", but is now hovering in the area of 4'11 inches, you laughing...you better be laughing cause, this is a very, very funny picture.

Oh, and while you are visualizing this, add a pair of tortoise shell computer glasses, (yes, words on the page keep getting smaller and smaller)  they are broken, too, a thin band of facial tissue and Elmer's glue are  holding them together.  Good lord, I'm a wreck and a tangle.  I could get my glasses fixed, but my youngest daughter has been telling me for years "you're such a nerd", I finally believe it and have no intention on getting my glasses fixed.  I'm quite fond of being labeled a nerd.

And there you have it folks, me in a nut shell.  I'm guessing some might say, getting old is ugly and do cry about it, but I love getting old.  I love that each day I awake there is always something new to discover, something to laugh at, something to give thanks for.  If life throws lemons at me, I'm going to try to make rich, creamy ice cream out of them.  I love my life, I love me.

So today's thankfulness is very simple I'm indeed thankful that 'so far this is the oldest I have ever been'.

Bonus, things they never tell you

Since I do my best pondering in the shower...well, read ahead...

Yesterday (after I stepped into the shower), I discovered I had brought in my deodorant instead of my body wash so (laughing) I stepped out of the hot water and steam to make the switch.  And, with deodorant in mind I got to thinking about an ugly secret about myself.  Belly button care.

I hardly ever, ever think about my belly button except when it itches and I scratch it.  Although I've been wondering for quite some time why Zorro has always had such an interest in mine...along with my toes...did I mention he has a foot fetish?

Anyway, as I mentioned, I occasionally do give my belly button an occasional swipe while I wash, but for the most part what ever water happens to 'get in there' while I shower is the best care it gets.  So, yesterday I thought perhaps I should find out exactly what Zorro finds so interesting about my 'Innie'.  I took a Q-tip and stuck it in as far as it would go and gave it a good twirl.  OMG...unbelievable...

STOP READING HERE IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH.

....a horrible, yellowish, beige-ish, goo-ish substance covered the Q-tip.  It looked a lot like ear wax.  Really, honest, it did.

OMG, how long has that been growing in there.

SERIOUSLY...SQUEAMISH...STOP READING.

Now I am intrigued...hmmm...is this the reason Zorro has a thing for my belly button.  I hold the Q-tip to my nose.  Give a big inhale, cough, cough...did you know that stuff in you navel smells...well, trust me it does.  Not disgusting, just odd,  (I knew ear wax smells because I watch Myth Busters and they had told me) so, I guess I should not have been surprised this stuff smelled, too.

Disposal of the Q-tip was swift.

Well, let me tell you...my belly button yesterday got the cleaning of its life.  And, when I applied my lotion I made sure some of the pretty smelling stuff got in there.  Won't that be a pleasant surprise for Zorro?  And, I made a vow to never neglect my navel again...I promise.

By now you know I share everything on my blog, the good, the bad, the ugly, and now even the smelly.  I feel it is my job to inform, and that you to find out from me first the things nobody else is going to tell you.

Thankfulness

Last night as I was putting Zorro out for the last time, a small moth landed on the door jam.  Poor baby, it seemed kind of groggy, and I knew it was going to get smooshed when I closed the door.  In order to encourage it to move, I touched it thinking it would fly outside...it didn't...and disappeared somewhere in my kitchen.

This morning I found it on the wall next to my kitchen lamp.

I also have a shield bug in the house somewhere, it flew in over a week ago.  I'm not complaining you understand.  I don't have a problem with most creatures...except for maybe spiders, snakes and horses...but we won't go there today.

Anyhooo, my thankfulness today goes to insects.  Have you ever looked at....really looked at these magnificent creatures.  Oh, the intricate patterns.  Oh, the blended shades and hues.  Sometimes they are beige and browns, Sometimes bright blues and yellows, like delicate butterflies.  Even lady bugs have different styles and colors.  Millions of insects, all over the world...think about it...each one...unique, special, specifically designed with features to protect them from prey, and sometimes camouflaged to be prey...oh, the splendor.

I have a special fondness for moths and shield bugs.  Moths come in many sizes...some huge, some small, but no matter the size their patterns are all carefully designed by a Creator's hand...man might be able to draw and imitate them, but that's the best we can do.  And, as for the shield bug...oh, my.  They were created to look exactly like the shield of armor from medieval times, that protected the arm and body of a warrior going off to battle.  Was this tiny creature the inspiration for the shield?  Hmmm.  I wonder?

I could ramble on from now til noon, but I guess all I'm asking is that you give some thought today to our six legged friends.  Pick just one, perhaps the spittle bug, the aphid, the praying mantis, the dragonfly, even the honey bee; I'm thankful for them all, maybe you should be, too.

Thankfulness

Brrrrr, it was cold when I went to bed last night, it is cold this morning.  The living room thermometer read 59 degrees.  Come on heat, do your thing.

This is my thankful for today.  Heat.  When so many people around the world have none, I can simply push a few buttons, turn a few dials, flip a few switches and magic happens.  Thank you Thomas Edison.

But mostly I am filled with thankfulness for my wonderful 'rice socks'.  I was kind of dreading getting them out of their special drawer because it meant I was going to be using them for months to come, however, last night I popped them into my Microwave, one by one, heated them up and slipped them between the sheets of my bed.

By the time I had put on my jammies and brushed my teeth they had heated up the bed quite nicely.  I slipped into my side of the bed and stretched out, with my feet I pushed one of the socks down around my chilly toes, stretched one out across my shoulder blades, and folded the other in half and placed it in the area between the bottom of my neck and my often befuddled cranium.  Oh, glorious, glorious heat.  Drifting off to a good sound sleep is sooo easy.

There is a slight problem, however.  Zorro does not like them.  Don't know if it is a smell thing, or a heat thing.  He knows they are under the covers, and searches them out, then takes his little nose and tightly pushes the covers around them as though he is trying to bury a bone.  Funny to watch.  He does not try to destroy them in any manner, I guess they are some kind of  'foreign matter' occupying his space and he's not thrilled.

However, once I am tucked under the covers, he is content, and curls up under the covers in the crook of my arm and goes to sleep.  So, between my 'rice socks' and our own body heat we have a very comfortable night's rest.

I realize there are different devises to be had from specialty stores and catalogs, that are lovely to look at and  have pretty hefty price tags that will do the same thing my homemade socks do. So, if you happen to have the bucks to by them I sure encourage you to do that.  I'm cheap...I simply bought rice in bulk, and used old stretch tights knotted at either end to confine the rice, not as pretty as the store bought kind but just as effective.

I must give credit to my sister, Linda, for telling me about this wonderful invention.  She had been telling me for quite some time about her 'socks' (also homemade) and I finally made some of my own.  So, she gets to share in this thankfulness post.  Thank you, Linda, bulk rice, and old stretch tights.  Come on winter, bring on your worst.  I'm ready.

Hey...I just thought...those exercise, stretch tights I bought years ago are finally serving a purpose.

Thankfulness

Thankfulness should not be bantered about willy-nilly, and I've been putting a lot of thought into mine since I began this project.  I am aware some of you...assuming there are still some of you reading my blog...are thinking my thankful's are silly-willy, or even down right ridiculous.  I guess maybe they are.

Believe me I am thankful for every 'thing' and everybody in my life.  I'm thankful for family and friends, good health...such as it is, a roof over my head, a tiny bit of money in my pocketbook, food on my table (especially Oyster Crackers--much to Frankie's dismay), a song in my heart, and peace in my soul.  I think we have to agree everybody has these same thankful's.  Trust me, I am very, very thankful for all of the above.

But, I'm also thankful for so much more.  Like, Frankie.  She came into my life most unexpectedly.  I think I've told the story before somewhere in my blogging.  If you don't remember I will elucidate, I had mistakenly taken a posting on Facebook from someone I thought was a man, to find out to my great embarrassment, the posting was from a woman, with a gentleman's nickname.

What fun I thought, I want one...and I set about having a contest on Facebook asking for suggestions what would be a good male nickname for me.  My sister suggested Frankie...and it stuck...and Frankie was suppose to be my male nickname.

With a funny twist of fate, Frankie took life...she became my alter ego, yin to my yang, common sense in the midst of my daily turmoil.  She has become my best-est friend and confidant.    Oh, the fun we have.  And the best part is anything that goes 'a-rye' I can put the blame on her.  I kind of wish she had come into my life much sooner than she did.  However, I am filled to the brim with thankfulness she is here now.

That being said, I'm hoping that all of you can find somebody like Frankie, who will come into your life and excite your imagination, give you courage to try something new, allow you to explore your inner child, share secrets, and wipe away your tears.

I'm filled the brim with thankfulness...for the people who opened my mind and heart to the possibility that an imaginary friend could bring me such fun, laughter and joy.

Thanks, Greg, Twila, Willie.  I am filled with thankfulness you brought Frankie into my life.

Thankfulness

I was trying to decide what I wanted to be thankful for today, and several things were rattling around loudly in my brain, much like my marble collection.  NO, not the imaginary one in my brain...my actual collection.

Finally I decided to be thankful for birds.  Mostly for Eagles and Turkeys, and I was reminded of the fact there was quite a discussion on what bird should symbolize our national emblem. Seems our government has been embroiled in conflict since its beginning.  The founding fathers finally decided the emblem should be the eagle, and it began to appear on documents.

One gentleman disagreed with this decision, and was outnumbered, so, Benjamin Franklin wrote the following to his daughter in a letter:

(excerpt)

"For my own part I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country. He is a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly. You may have seen him perched on some dead Tree near the River, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the Labour of the Fishing Hawk; and when that diligent Bird has at length taken a Fish, and is bearing it to his Nest for the Support of his Mate and young Ones, the Bald Eagle pursues him and takes it from him.

"With all this Injustice, he is never in good Case but like those among Men who live by Sharping & Robbing he is generally poor and often very lousy. Besides he is a rank Coward: The little King Bird not bigger than a Sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the District. He is therefore by no means a proper Emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America who have driven all the King birds from our Country...

"I am on this account not displeased that the Figure is not known as a Bald Eagle, but looks more like a Turkey. For the Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America... He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on."

There can be no doubt where Mr. Franklin stood on this issue.  

I find I'm a fence sitter on this issue myself.  I consider myself quite the 'birder', but unlike Mr. Franklin I can find good qualities in both birds.

True, both are native to America, especially during the time of the Colonies.  Both were in great quantity.  However, the Turkey was not only a native, it was very useful due to the fact it was a good supply of protein for the sometimes starving Pilgrims.  I've never heard they used the turkey eggs as a source of food but I imagine that they did.  Also, I think the native Turkey is a beautiful bird, when it puffs out its chest, and fans out its tail feathers it is a sight to behold.  Its feathers must have also been important, being used as pens, and pillows.  Yes, this bird could well have been deserving of the title of national bird.

However, there is also the Eagle.  I've come to know quite a bit about these magnificent creatures thanks to the Raptor Research Project.   I've learned Mr. Franklin was wrong, (sorry, Sir).  They are excellent builders, hard working providers, and the best parents imaginable, ever vigil until they know their fledglings are prepared for life on their own.  In addition they are magnificent to look at, especially up close and personal from the vantage point of a camera situated just above its nest.  And, I admire they have come back from the brink of extinction because mankind polluted their environment with pesticides up to the time in the 1970's when they were finally banned from use.  

You can see my quandary,  I don't want to choose between them.  So, I've decided not to choose and go with both of them

Thank you Turkey, thank you Eagle, you both deserve to be my national emblem, and by golly, for me, you are both going to be.  Here's to you...I proudly lift my coffee mug in honor.  

Thankfulness comes in many colors that fly.

Thankfulness

So, here I am, stunned, numb, unbelieving.

My guy didn't win, but I didn't expect him to, because I didn't vote for either one of the two front runners.

I felt neither has a clue how to bring the country back from the precipice.  They both made promises they know they cannot keep, and considering all rhetoric they fed us to convince us they are going to 'do what is best for us' it certainly won't take much for them to send it into the depths of ruin.  For all intents and purposes, I guess we, the American populace, have already been pushed off the ledge, we are hanging by our fingernails.  Are either of them going to pull us up...I don't think so, and unfortunately, I don't see anyone else eager to lend a helping hand either.

Frankly, I'm scared, because I never thought the country I have always loved, honored, respected and even would have taken up arms to protect...(if push came to shove)... and fight off the enemy.  I'm scared, because now I don't know the enemy, I sense it's a cancer, growing...quietly, painlessly, stealth-fully, craft-fully, invading the very heart and soul of this once grand and glorious country.

I know I've read over the years that most governments last on average 200 years.  We reached that mark in 1976, and I think you will have to agree that year pretty much marked the start of our downward spiral.  (We're on borrowed time my friends, borrowed time.)  Corruption, Greed, Crime, Apathy, Distrust, Blame have been tossed into a cauldron and what is coming to a stew is the destruction of America.

Is it too late to change the course of events?  I wish I could say no, it isn't, but as is written in the Book of Daniel, the hand writing is on the wall, so that even if we could read and understand the words, the prophecy has all ready come to pass.

So you are probably wondering what all this has to do with my being thankful.  Well...

I'm thankful I got to grow up in an America that was respected round the world.
I'm thankful I still have the right to worship as I please.
I'm thankful I still have the freedom of speech, and to write without fear of repercussions.
I'm thankful I still have the right to vote.
I'm thankful for Medicare, and Social Security.
I'm thankful I can cross borders into all 50 states without having to prove who I am.
I'm thankful I can recite the Pledge of Allegiance, the Lord's Prayer, and sing the National Anthem.
I'm thankful for books, newspapers, television, radio that allow me to know what is going on around the world.
I'm thankful for our system of government, flawed though it may be.

Yes, I am still thankful for many things...but now that you have read my list, I want you to contemplate how delicate and fragile these things really are.  We can so easily lose each and every one of them.  We had better hang on tight to the ledge, I for one, can't even see the bottom of the abyss, so I know the fall is going to be long, and very, very painful.  All my thankful's will not be there to prevent the scratches, bruises, and abrasions I get hitting the cliff as I tumble downward.

Maybe you should make a list of thankful's also, and put them in a pocket of your heart.  Let's promise to look at our lists every day.

Oh, and let's pray, and pray, and pray for our wounded country.

Finally,

MAY GOD CONTINUE TO BLESS AMERICA.

Thankfulness

Today I'm thankful for memories and life lessons.

Sometimes they are connected, and I am going to relate one of these to you.

One evening, my mother had prepared baked potatoes for dinner.  I'm guessing the entree was probably meatloaf.  I had just got home from work, and she asked me to retrieve the potatoes from the oven.  Even though I was grown...I was still living at home...her domain, and I complied.

I'm sure we were chatting about something at the time, I donned oven mitts and carefully placed the foil covered potatoes on top of the stove.

I was down to the last one.

A little voice from a tiny red clad creature on my shoulder whispered..".Do it!"

And, I did.  I threw that last, foil covered, hot potato at my mother, while squealing "Think fast!"

She turned just in time to catch it with both hands, it immediately hit the floor.

I laughed.

She...gave me...'the look'...the one I had not seen since I was ten.  Holy cow...didn't expect that.  We stood in silence.  I didn't know what to do...should I run...should I snap my fingers and make myself disappear.  Is she finally going to get out her wooden spoon, for 'reals'.

Now, you have to remember, I was a grown up.  Why in the world did I do that?  I simply have to blame this on the Devil.

I had never seen my mother speechless.  I wish I could have seen the look on my face, it must have been priceless.  I finally sputtered an apology and tried to make amends.  She would have none of it.  Even at my age there had to be punishment, and there was...that evening the entire dinner clean-up and hand washing of dishes were up to me.  Whew, I knew the punishment could have been much worse.

Which is why, some time 'down the road', I will never understand why I hit my mother on the head with a pot.

Yes, I'm thankful for my memories, my oft stupidity, but most of all my Mom.  I love you.

Thankfulness

I cannot begin to tell you...

...how sad I am this morning.  I've been sitting here at my computer for an hour trying get a hold of my emotions.

I have a very, very dear friend with cancer, and she has been giving it the fight of her life.  I'm proud of her, she's been brave, upbeat, optimistic, and as close to living as normal life as possible.  She has a tremendous support system, including me, even though I am thousands of miles away.

She was part of a study group, and proud to be so, but last night she e-mailed us to say she had decided to stop treatments.  Her doctor agreed, it was time for her to do so.  I was devastated...I just want to cry, and cry, and cry.

I have known this woman since we were still teenagers, eager to become nurses, we were roommates crammed together into a tiny attic room with one other girl, across a short hall were three other girls crammed into an identical room.  We all became friends, although Joyce, Louise and I really bonded.

But you know how life is, I discovered I was not nurse material and left the program.  Joyce and I stayed connected and exchanged Christmas Cards over the years.  But, Louise and I lost touch until a few years ago when on Facebook, she inquired if I was really the Sandra Shaffer she was looking for.  And, I in turn excitedly informed her that I was indeed the right one.

Our friendship was reestablished.  It has been wonderful.  She's funny, active, full of joy, laughs at adversity, and has lived life to the fullest.  We talk on the phone and e-mail...she's also on Facebook, but mostly as an observer...that's okay with me, cause I know she's there.

So, when I got last night's e-mail.  I immediately knew the coming time was going to be bad, bad, bad.  I can't bring myself to say what is in my thoughts, nor actually say the words.  My heart is breaking, my eyes are filled with tears.

Why did I not stay in touch?  How could I allowed myself to miss out on her bringing up her family?  So many years went by I seldom thought of her.

Now that her life is coming to a close, I have only one thought, I'm so thankful she has returned to my life.  She is a wonderful artist, and I am proud and honored to have one of her works.  She has a talented husband who produces electronic CD's and she has shared some of them with me.  She has a granddaughter with a beautiful voice...a daughter, with genetic likeness in personality, life outlook, beauty, and strength.  And additional family I don't really know, and finally tons of friends.

I promised her I wouldn't cry, and I'm definitely trying to be as brave as she is, but today is hard, very, very hard. And, I promised I would be her 'bad breakdown day' support and I will.  So, Weeze, yesterday you said you had your first breakdown, can I have mine today?  Then let's put on our happy face and be a brave as we can.  I will always be there for you.

Dear friend, I am so thankful you are in my life.  You will always, always be there.

Thankfulness

Starting yesterday my grandson's girlfriend, Kcenia, has been posting on Facebook things she is thankful for.  What a grand idea!

So, today, and off and on over the month I hope I can stay on track and post here some things I am thankful for.

Today, I am thankful for tiny things.

I used to dread November, it always meant the growing season was at the end, things died, the trees became naked, the days became mostly grey, and daylight grew shorter day by day.  I hated it, I became melancholy, wept easily, and wanted to mostly stay a hermit.

Then, yesterday while picking leaves, I was reminded of something that I believe Thoreau wrote about during his Autumn ambling over field and dale.  He wrote if you look, 'v-e-r-y' closely, you will find at the very tip of barren branch, an almost invisible bud waiting for its time to grow, yes....Spring is already there.  No matter what tree or shrub you look at...SPRING IS ALREADY THERE.

Of course, I was at first, a Doubting Thomas and had to inspect this for myself.   Surely the harsh winter would kill these tiny objects under freezing temperatures, ice storms, and feet upon feet of snow?  Thoreau had to be wrong.  So it has become a yearly ritual for me, every year as Mother Nature disrobes herself, I have to inspect and make sure she is indeed already preparing her garments for next year.  And, yes, there they are every November, brave, almost invisible buds.

How wonderful!  How beautiful!  But, most of all, HOW HOPEFUL.

Oh, I'm still not a fond friend of November, and there are days I allow melancholy to overtake me.  But I no longer mourn the death it brings.  Birth is sleeping in its winter blanket.

So, I am indeed thankful for the tiny things.  I have to look for them to savor them...but they are worth my time to seek them out.  Go, see for yourselves, all that magical new growth, slumbering till March, when Mother Nature dons her new robe.

I knew...

...it was after seven because light was filtering into the bed room from behind the drapes.  CC had just jumped up on my chest so I also knew her food bowls must be empty.

I linger in the semi-darkness for a while, but CC is most insistent, kneading the blankets and purring loudly.   I'm surprised all this has not aroused Zorro, I know as soon as I stir, I will have to get up...I don't want to.

Finally I stretch out, and the room becomes a bustle of activity.

For some reason, I don't turn on any lights.  I know where my socks and slippers are, so by instinct and feel I manage to put them on and 'scruffle' out to the kitchen.

I feed the creatures.
I make myself coffee.
I put Zorro out.
I bring Zorro in.

I begin to putter, you know...things like giving Zorro his peanut butter toy so I can make the bed.  Turn on the heat, open the drapes and front door.  I check to see if vandalism had happened over night.  All seems well.  I was relieved since I have not had my locking mailbox very long and it looks inviting.

Bed made, I'm walking down the hall, pondering.

Suddenly, Frankie appears out of nowhere.  She snickers.

Me:  "What?"  WHAT?"
Frankie:  "Snicker, snicker, snicker."
Me:  "What the heck is the matter with you?"

She slinks off, smile on face, still snickering.

I think maybe it might be my hair in Mohawk mode and dash to the bathroom.  Maybe my eyebrows have slipped halfway down my temples...or perhaps there is some foreign object is dangling from my nostril.  Nope, for once all looks well.

Then, for some reason I glance down at my feet.  I start to snicker myself.  I've been wearing an old, old pair, frequently 'electrical tape' repaired, tiny black slippers.  This morning they are pointed at the most ridiculous angles, the toes going in north and south directions.  Imagine a baby elf learning learning how to walk, that's how my feet look.  I'm telling you I look ridiculous and take a few seconds to put the slippers on the correct feet.

Now, don't you think after walking around for well over a half an hour instinct would kick in and I would have felt something strange with my foot attire.  And don't you think...wouldn't you think your very best friend would tell you "Hey, old lady, you've got your slippers on the wrong feet."  But, no, not good ole' Frankie...I think she was waiting for a prat-fall, or some other slap-stick performance.

Boy...I'll fix her...

I find her in the sun room, curled up under an afghan reading a book.  I point a finger at her, ready to pounce.  She looks up at me, with that kind of...innocent, sweet, sometimes down right 'icky' smile. I close my mouth, drop my hand, turn and walk away.  This is not a time to choose to battle...that can wait for another day...who can resist an 'icky-innocent" smile, a hot cup of coffee, a good book, and a toasty warm blanket on a blustery, wet November day.

Besides, I did look funny, nobody got hurt, and I learned a valuable lesson...I've got to turn on the light before putting my socks and slippers on.