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Just shooting the poop with Lori |
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He travels the world on the backs of others Insignificant in his stature and size His journey carries no mission Randomly roaming at the will of his host Sated enough to never question his trek Life is an open adventure without worry If the excitement of his dusty trail dulls Another bus awaits to grant passage With a furry friend to carry him home Ah the wonderful life of a flea |
| There is nothing like spending a day with family to rejuvenate you and remind you of the many blessings It was a great day spent with friends, family and food. I am still feeling stuffed this morning. Was bummed this morning to realize my furnace has bit the dust. Coldness is not my friend, nor the vanishing of money that will be needed. It seems each Christmas season we are pounded with added and unexpected expenses making it necessary to cut the budget back to the minimum. I keep telling myself that soon we will have one holiday where we won't have to worry about the dollars It is just a pipe-dream, but what really matters is right where it belongs close to my heart. The health and well-being of my loved ones are all that truly matter in this crazy rough and tumble world. For now, we will make our own warmth without the furnace. It will grow from the glowing embers of our heart. Happy day after Thanksgiving. . |
| A middle of the night brain fart had me seeking the origin of a term that I use often, which is hunky dory. Its origins stretches from the archaic American slang of the word “hunk;” meaning “safe”. There is a Dutch extension from the word “honk” meaning “goal or home” To achieve "hunk" or "hunky" in a child's game was to make it "home" and win the game. With the word dory, it is a description of a flat bottom boat known for its stability. So hunky dory is thought to mean quite satisfactory and fine. This fine night finds me hunky dory. I wish the same for all of my readers. |
| Heritage Each year our large family gathers around the baked poultry, warm German potato salad, and fried yams. For twenty plus years, I have been designated as the broccoli casserole queen. Creamy, melt-in-your-mouth, homemade mashed potatoes with two kinds of gravy are a delight. There are two types of stuffing to fit any fancy, one with raisins and one without the squishy fruit. The odyssey of the two types of stuffing began with my first Thanksgiving. To my new mother-in-law, I mentioned never having had stuffing with raisins. Being the gracious woman that she was, from there on out our table was blessed with a variety to suit us all. That is probably what I love best about this family that I married into, we don’t get so lost in tradition that we forget the blessings sitting next to us. The most important tradition is the warm welcome, the tender embrace, and the smiles of loved ones. Some thirty years ago, I embarked on a new life with my husband. He hailed from a traditional Catholic family with a mother and father and ten siblings. Gatherings were quite extraordinary and populous. There were younger siblings still living at home and older ones with kids of their own. One year, I managed to count fifty relatives celebrating their blessings at the table together. It was all accomplished in a three bedroom ranch filled with love. The newest member of the family each year was seated at the farthest seat from the bathroom. This technique allowed them to learn everyone’s name as they excused themselves past the guests. It was like a fun party game. The part of this family’s heritage that I will always hold close to my heart is the story of Grandma Spiess. I think she was probably seventy-five years old when I met her. She was a fire-spit of a woman. It is her recipe for German potato salad that created the tradition we enjoy today. I can still picture her standing by the stove either cooking or supervising the melding of its tasty ingredients. It wasn’t right until she said it was. Grandma Spiess was also responsible for the toast that kicked off the meal on Thanksgiving. She would raiser a glass in honor of our family. Children and adults, alike, would lift their goblets as the lady spoke. She would begin with a review of how the year had gone for the family. Good or bad, she managed to flip the coin toward the blessing side of life. If a loved one was lost, she talked of the wonderful gift of having had them in our lives. She cheered the bounty of all the children born and the goodness she saw in them. She thanked God for every minute she was allowed to walk this beautiful earth. There were tears for the friends that she missed and the memories long past. By her words, this beautiful woman taught us to sip from the cup we were given, feel thankful for a legacy, and to always toast the moment. Her simple toast of wine showed us the importance of family and its heritage. If we allow it, time’s passage will remind us to say I love you before it is too late. Traditions, such as Grandma taught us, will keep memories alive, loved ones near us, and our hearts filled. Word Count 563 |
| It is Sunday again, which means I have the laundry day blues. But in my yard is a mile high pile of leaves. What to do what to do. I wish my choices were more adventurous and what do they call it, fun. But i remind myself that the toils of life sustain the soul. Hard work isn't the enemy but the means to achieve satisfaction. Nothing feels better than completing the task one sets out to do. At the beginning of the job it seems insurmountable, but with persistence it is whittled down to nothing. All of this is accomplished by your very own hands leaving you to feel triumphant. |
| House cleaning rule #101, just keep trying. It may not be perfection, but the clutter of our discontent will diminish by bits and pieces. Dust will fly happily into the stratosphere.Floors will shine and windows will sparkle from our efforts. The scent of cleanliness will linger in the air.With the laundry woes,our dirty drawers will become streak free. Snuggling up in cozy clean sheets will sooth our battered souls. The paw prints on the tables will disappear like magic. The freshly dusted ceiling fans will spin freely without catapulting furry objects.We will erase the names written in the dust of the television screen. Our aching bodies will scream of rewards for the jobs completed. I promise the satisfaction will last at least until the morrow. |
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Pretty Proud of this item.
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| That burn will nip you in the bum! The cold wind that whistles down your spine. and sets you teeth to chattering has descended upon us. Winter's early visitation has caught me unprepared. My coats all need washing and my long johns are still folded in the storage bins from Spring's arrival. So I shiver waiting for the dryer to warm my togs and banish my inner chill I sip hot chocolate with a promise that dances in my head. Next year, I will switch my seasonal clothes at the slightest hint of winter. |
| I haven't mentioned the antics of my dogs lately. Dimitri, the Lab/German shepherd mix of ours, is a quite large and beautiful dog. He is also very spoiled and is sure to grab the attention of any person in the room. He speaks with the voice of Scooby-doo, a loud,low, grumbling of intense drama. His every need must be acknowledged for the grumbling to cease. He loves to have his paws petted and as you comply he moans a happy purr of love, which is a lower softer form of the original grumble. Pushing his paw away after finishing the task earns the plunging of the second paw in your vicinity. This can go on for several minutes. When the second dog wants attention, Dimitri noses him forcefully out of the way, grumbling the entire time. He howls and grumbles a whole conversation to the other dog and then to his people, seeming to debate all of the reasons why he needs all of the attention. It is quite the comical scene. Vladimir, our beagle/lab mix, waits patiently for his turn. We sometimes have to gate off the big one just so Vladi can have some loving. . I wouldn't trade these dogs for anything, but they wear me out. |
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