tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35447996869524465622024-11-01T05:27:59.648-04:00and other defining storiesNancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-51677059696820402262012-07-12T22:38:00.000-04:002012-07-12T22:38:06.514-04:00

'Tis the season for falling limbs apparently. I was sitting with my neighbor on her porch enjoying the lovely summer evening, when we heard a rustle, a crickly-crackle and a very large crash as we watched a giant limb fall from a tree across the street - right where our neighbor and his dog had been standing perhaps 10 minutes before. It was rather dramatic when it hit and crumbled into crunchy

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-66076542293758808272012-07-11T22:18:00.000-04:002012-07-11T22:18:13.856-04:00

Almost six weeks ago, Lizz moved to the big city of Detroit. Or DEEtroit. Land of taco trucks and at least 40 (+41 more) fabulous things to do. I was in Nicaragua so was no help at all in the move. But after I returned home, I went to visit. I was a bit early so decided to drive around the neighborhood to check it out. If I had continued one way down the street, I discovered a park. The

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-80892704938103671892010-04-17T09:52:00.000-04:002010-04-17T09:52:34.376-04:00

Julie: How was school? Ashton: Good, mom. We had a tomato drill and had to go into the basement. Julie: Tomato drill, huh? Ashton: YES, MOM. THAT'S WHAT I SAID. A TOMATO DRILL!

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-79303558543275792122010-02-20T10:15:00.000-05:002010-02-20T10:15:05.839-05:00

Awww ... bunny looks like he's just taking a nap, doesn't he? She? It? I'll get back to the All About Anne stories when I get some more photos scanned. Today, Sharon is going to tell us what happened to the bunny in this framed photo displayed in the front bedroom. We were on our way to Chicago - just a typical trip for a long weekend visiting family and shopping. We stopped at McDonald's, then

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-66735999763737720182010-02-16T12:55:00.000-05:002010-02-16T12:55:49.037-05:00

This is my mom, Anne. Wasn't she beautiful? I think Uncle Norman told me she was 16 when this picture was taken. She was always tall for her age - and at 16 could often pass for 21. It was an exciting time in history, especially in Northern Virginia, when Anne was a teenager.  But one of Uncle Norman's favorite memories from this time took place very close to home. Anne was

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-950726961349475632010-02-15T10:05:00.000-05:002010-02-15T10:05:24.455-05:00

It's been one month and 11 days since I posted here. And since I first left my home to stay at Sharon's house. Wow. Friday was the first time since Jan. 4 that I spent the night at my house. Lizz and her roommate were home for the weekend so I got to camp out here, too. Minor crisis with a backed-up drain/overflowing washing machine Saturday just as the girls were starting to do laundry ...

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-63378186491616725282010-01-04T21:41:00.000-05:002010-01-04T21:41:31.733-05:00

... and throw on some memories. Just found this photo of my grandfather the other day. Doesn't he look the happy grill-master? "How do you take your steak? Yeah. You'll take it medium-rare and be glad about it, bub." I'm happily installed at Sharon's for a week or so. What a day. Feel like I moved my entire house. But I'm looking forward to spending quality time with my sister ... and

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-26469833992117892182009-12-31T10:48:00.000-05:002009-12-31T10:48:16.182-05:00

Tangerine, pomegranate, pear, cheese and popcorn. Yup. A perfectly balanced meal. See? Three kinds of cheese even. And cookies for dessert. Calcium, Vitamin C, antioxidants, fiber ... we're pretty well covered, wouldn't you say? I'm going to get used to this new schedule. Sleep in until 8:30 (or 9:00), breakfast in bed, naps, reading, watching movies, more naps, dinner served in the living

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-26417840881254708412009-12-29T04:52:00.000-05:002009-12-29T04:52:50.053-05:00

For those of you who haven't already seen these and commented on Facebook ... here are those non-gory photos I promised yesterday. This is post-surgery. The doc said I had a bimalleolar fracture. And no ligament tearing as I was initially told. So that's good news! Now going back to the ER, here's my ankle right before I went off to X-ray. I made Sharon take photos. It doesn't look so bad

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-60512401202889711182009-12-28T04:51:00.002-05:002009-12-31T10:49:51.392-05:00

So the good news is that I'll have lots of time to reminisce with family over the next few weeks and populate Tuna on Wheatley with tons of great stories. This one began on the second day of Christmas. Toward the end of a beautiful walk with my neighbor's son's dog, I descended the steps of the court house and promptly did a fancy little dance on the ice that landed me flat on my well-padded

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-19663814676189837832009-12-03T06:16:00.000-05:002009-12-03T06:16:35.608-05:00

I'm probably mixing two languages there, with that headline. When I was in college - the first time - at Michigan State University, I moved a lot. But the place I lived the longest was an old house I shared with several friends. It started with four of us and then grew to seven at one point, I think. Anyway, it is this place where my family remembers visiting me. I had read that a good way to

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-5165763553502841602009-11-29T21:00:00.027-05:002009-11-29T21:40:13.581-05:00

When I was a very small girl, my brother and sister had a dog named Sandy. I don't remember Sandy much, other than what I've seen of her in pictures. (Click here to see Sandy in my sister's arms.) Then when I was maybe 8 or 9, I was given my very own dog. Her name was Muffin. I loved Muffin, but I quickly learned that owning a dog was hard work! Just managing all that input and output is a huge

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-19476668499629413282009-11-25T05:43:00.000-05:002009-11-25T06:55:16.744-05:00

When I was about three, I woke up one drizzly spring morning and decided I needed to wear a cape. And test my super powers. I cannot tell you why a three-year-old dressed in a polka-dotty dress and a calico cape was able to walk out of the house (and around the corner) without adult supervision. Perhaps mom was painting? The point is, I did. (I don't have a fat lip in this photo, so I think

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-17699091721618071612009-11-20T19:27:00.030-05:002009-11-20T20:10:36.300-05:00

When I was in second grade - at least I think it was second grade - our teacher read us Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I was instantly hooked. I wanted to be Laura Ingalls. My mom, who always nurtured my imagination, created for me two very authentic calico dresses with matching sunbonnets so that I could dress like Laura. My sister bought me 100-year old lace-up

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-38750543783562895952009-11-13T07:08:00.000-05:002009-11-13T07:08:33.198-05:00

Since this is the family story blog, I've been searching the archives for memories. Then I came across the About Me thing I did on Facebook ... thought that might be a good start. What I really need are all those good juicy stories about my mom and other family members out there ... hello, fambly: Are you listening? Let's see ... how do all good stories begin? Once upon a time, a small girl

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-54527228099030015732009-11-09T19:58:00.003-05:002009-11-09T20:15:37.879-05:00

I have no reason for inserting this photo except that I just found it. It's a little figure in my backyard - used to be the base of a birdbath - that I discovered the first spring in our house when I was tidying up our secluded, tangled Secret Garden-esque retreat. There's another little cherub that was tipped over with just its little hand poking out of the ivy. Kinda freaky.Anyway, I pulled out

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-79638738636933542642009-11-07T09:41:00.006-05:002009-11-07T10:32:37.769-05:00

Gosh, it's been more than six months since I've posted here. Kind of disturbing that the most recent post has that lovely photo of me in labor almost 20 years ago, below.Since this is the place for me to tell the family stories, I'm moving the update on the upstairs bathroom/bedroom painting project on over here. Get caught up here first, and then come back and see the pretty photos. And to learn

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-37278366966005626562009-03-16T22:10:00.006-04:002009-03-16T23:05:19.569-04:00

I always get a little weepy and nostalgic on March 16. At 7 p.m. or so, I'll remember the night I bent over my giant pregnant belly to tie my tennies before going for a walk. Then feeling like I just peed my pants. I remember thinking to myself: "Oh great. Just lost bladder control. Swell." And then: "Oh! This is it!" Because 19 years ago on this night I went into labor. And early on the morning

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-14487840378420213082009-03-12T22:28:00.002-04:002009-03-12T22:43:28.911-04:00

A couple of us have been joking at work about being butterflies ... alighting ever so gently on the surface of projects rather than digging in and questioning as we typically do. Of course, you do know about the potential impact of a butterfly flapping its wings.Thinking of butterflies made me remember the butterfly costume mom made for me one year. I keep hoping I'll find it because it was

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-60136164387097132882009-02-22T13:23:00.008-05:002009-02-26T09:57:55.086-05:00

It's now been over a year since I said goodbye to my dad. After several intense months of doctor visits, ER trips and hospitalizations, moves from his home of 38 years to assisted living to "rehab" to a memory care facility ... and then his unexpected death and all of the accompanying plans, tasks, memories and emotions, I jumped back into a life that hadn't had the courtesy to slow down and wait

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-62082691629440682312009-02-20T19:45:00.009-05:002009-02-20T21:09:05.927-05:00

One of my favorite Yogi Berra maxims is, "if you come to a fork in the road, take it." I'm a firm believer in taking every fork in the road I can find - especially on vacation. And when there's a law of physics to be tested ... by golly, I'm up for the challenge. On a trip home from Virginia a few years ago, E and I decided we needed to check out Gravity Hill - one of those tourist attractions

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-1475942055549726982009-02-18T20:03:00.001-05:002009-02-19T03:03:38.157-05:00

Today is the one-year anniversary of Dad/Grandpa's death. Here are more posts about her grandpa from E's blog.Tuesday, February 26, 2008My grandpa passed away last Monday. The funeral preparations have been made and done with. Family has arrived and gone. Countless food dishes have come and been eaten. Sympathy cards have piled in. Our answering machine has been full. I feel surrounded by love

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-58418967019473251192009-02-13T18:44:00.005-05:002009-02-14T00:09:19.594-05:00

(Sing to the tune of Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme)I bought a 101-year-old house a few years ago. The old oak woodwork in the front of the house is beautiful, but almost every bit of wood trim - and the doors - in the rest of the house is covered with sage green paint. I think the previous owners got a deal in the '70s. So the summer after we moved in, I was determined to strip all that

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-42704944790346801442009-02-11T23:52:00.000-05:002009-02-12T00:03:49.280-05:00

I asked the Amazing E if I could post some of her entries on grandpa/dad from her blog. It's interesting to see how her entries fill in the gaps in my own memory.Tuesday, July 10, 2007We spent the evening over at my grandpa's house again. Sometimes even the better part of me wonders what we're doing over there as we've been spending more and more time over there to keep things going. We tidy

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3544799686952446562.post-86510477191498460532009-02-05T22:40:00.000-05:002009-02-05T23:06:16.121-05:00

We're nearing the one-year anniversary of Dad's death, February 18, so he's been in my thoughts lately. Here's the reflection I shared at his funeral almost one year ago.I’m the youngest – or as Dad called me most often – “his little girl.” Jay was “my son, of whom I’m so proud” and Sharon … “the little mother” (or, most recently, “big mama”). You’ll have to ask her about that later.I think my

Nancyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01125078045273736451noreply@blogger.com1