Nourish the Soul

Full Circle

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 15:38:00 +0000

All I can remember of that day is sitting in the front seat of a car. I can't recall the weather, the time of year, or even the model of the car. We were in the parking lot of Applebee's restaurant. I know that we had gone there to eat lunch but I can't recall the meal. I was seated behind the steering wheel and my husband was sitting next to me. In my memory, it seems that he was seated very close to me as if we were in a mini-compact car. My husband, my rock, my man of steel, was visibly upset, an emotional mess. I remember hugging him and telling him that it would be okay. I also remember thinking, 'Holy shit, what are we going to do?' as I rubbed his back, consoling him as I fought the urge to start crying myself.

It was the early nineties and the real estate market had come tumbling down all around us. My husband is a real estate investor, an entrepreneur. My husband builds houses, owns apartment buildings, fixes run-down properties and makes them livable again. He loves fixing the worst house on the block, to clean up a neighborhood. He provides housing for people of all socio-economic levels. He is a risk taker to some degree but always acts in a responsible manner. We had four children under the age of thirteen during this time period. Banks, who had wined us and dined us months earlier were now belly-up. The news was filled with doom and gloom. The FDIC became involved. Mortgage notes were being called, and property values were tanking. To say it was a scary time would be an understatement.

That particular memory of sitting in Applebee's parking lot, almost 18 years ago, has stayed with me through the years. My husband had been to see an attorney and it looked like the only way out of the situation would be to file bankruptcy. As we sat in the parking lot of Applebee's, my husband broke the news to me. I had no clue what that meant for us or our four children. I wasn't sure if we would lose our home. Where would we live? We were both scared, not knowing what lie ahead. But we put on a happy face for the sake of our kids. They were our sunshine, our hope, our future, our reason to get out of bed every morning. As it turned out we didn't end up filing bankruptcy but we did 'lose' three of our apartment buildings. The mortgage companies took them back. I was pretty angry with the entire banking industry and with the FDIC for a long time. The whole situation felt surreal. It took a while before my husband got back in the saddle again but he did and he worked hard to rebuild all that had come tumbling down. I am proud of the fact that as a couple we worked together through those uncertain times to get to a better place. It wasn't always easy but I never doubted that we would survive...together... as a family.

So now fast forward to January, 2012. The husband and I park our car in the very same parking lot. We walk, hand in hand, into the very same Applebee's restaurant. We had not ventured inside of this restaurant since that day back in the early 90's. The hostess seated us in a booth and the two of us just kept smiling at each other and at her. We couldn't stop grinning. It felt so surreal. You see, we had just left from a real estate closing where we had proudly bought back one of the apartment buildings which we had 'lost' almost twenty years ago. We own it again. There is a certain feeling of pride, of accomplishment, of success, of completeness. We have come full circle and it feels good.

Just Playing Around...

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 13:13:00 +0000

Sometimes, when the grandbabies have all gone home, I just play around.
It's good for the soul.

The Christmas Frog

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 15:54:00 +0000

A cold, blustery day in December 2010 found me deep inside of my bedroom closet. My house was full of guests who had arrived for the holidays. My Dad had passed away only three weeks earlier so the holidays weren't feeling cheery or bright. The reason I had crawled deep inside of my walk-in closet was to clean it out which now looking back was odd behavior in itself. It's not as if I was so organized that I had nothing else to do...quite the contrary. I had cooking, wrapping, last-minute shopping, decorating to do. Cleaning is not my strong suit so reflecting on that day, I am perplexed as to what even possessed me to climb into my closet through the mountain of shoes, clothes that had fallen off hangers, and a variety of odds and ends. Whatever. I was deep within the bowels of my closet, sitting on the floor, searching for my other black flip flop with the rhinestone studs. I patted around on the floor, feeling for it when my hand touched a dry lump. Startled, I pulled my hand away. If I had a cat, I would have thought that it was a small pile of dried up cat poop but I had no cat to blame. I went to get a flashlight since I was pretty convinced that this was a pile of grossness.

Cautiously, I shined the light around and saw a little darkish green creature. A little, darkish green,dead creature. A dehydrated, dead, little darkish green creature. I carefully picked it up between my two fingers and examined it closely. It was a frog. I gasped. I sat it down very carefully and then I started to cry. I sat in my closet with my dead frog and let the tears flow.

You see, this wasn't just a frog. This was a sign from my father who had died three weeks earlier. My Dad and I had an unspoken 'frog' connection. When I was in college, my parents had come to visit during Parent's Weekend. We all attended a semi-formal dance and my father and I danced to 'Joy to the World ~ Jeremiah was a Bullfrog' by Three Dog Night. It is a dance I will never forget...probably because he hip checked me at one point and I went flying across the dance floor. Over the years, I gave him a variety of 'frog' gifts...a frog statue for his garden, a frog doorstop, frog bookends. What else do you buy a man who was impossible to buy for since he bought whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted ? At my father's funeral, the minister allowed me to play ' Joy to the World ~ Jeremiah was a Bullfrog' as everyone left the church. It was the perfect ending to the service. I took comfort in looking around the church to see many of the seventy/eighty year old attendees bopping and rocking in their pews as Three Dog Night blasted from the rafters.

So, here I was, sitting in my closet, holding a frog skeleton. How in the world did a frog get into the back of my closet ? Our bedroom is on the second floor, at the end of a long hall. The thought of this frog hopping up the entire flight of stairs and then hopping down the hallway into my room, around the corner into my closet did bring a smile to my face. I also do not believe that is what happened. I don't even know if it is physically possible for a frog to hop up stairs. Then I have to ask why a frog would seek out my closet...a closet which has no water ! Frogs need water. This was not a toad. I do know the difference between frogs and toads. This was a frog !

Quietly, carefully, I carried the frog downstairs to show my family. They gathered around and just stared at the frog. They stared at me. They clearly didn't know what to make of the situation. My family was quiet, a phenomena which doesn't happen often. I told them my theory, that my Dad had placed the frog in my closet as a sign that he is watching over us. They stood quietly. I think they were afraid of pushing me over the edge. No one wanted to burst my bubble. Many of the people in my family are very black and white thinkers, very logical. I, by the way, am not one of them. I am a colorful, out of the box thinker. I let my emotions lead me through life. So I threw a challenge out to all of the logical thinkers who stood there staring at my dead frog.

"How did this frog end up in my closet?"
"Um, maybe you brought it home in your shoe?" Wrong.
"Maybe the dog carried it in the house and placed it in your closet?"
No way.
" I guess the frog hopped up thirteen stairs, down the hall, around the corner into your closet." I truly doubt that.
"This is a sign from my Dad...he wants us to know that he is okay and he is watching over us."
My family stood quietly watching me and my frog.

My holidays were brighter from that point forward. I had a bounce in my step once again. Previously I had not felt like putting out all of my holiday decorations but now I went up into the attic and pulled them all out. My Dad loved decorating for the holidays with lots of color and bling. I even hummed Christmas carols as I ran around placing each decoration carefully in its place of honor. I reached into the bin for the next item and my heart stopped, momentarily, as I looked at what sat in my hand. Earlier in the year, I had seen a goofy frog statue, a parent frog with a baby on its back, each wearing a red stocking hat. I was going to put it in my Dad's Christmas stocking this year as a little joke gift, thinking it would have put a smile on his face. I had totally forgotten that I had bought this little momento and it caught me offguard. I swallowed hard, then just let the tears flow...again. I carried the frog statue down to show my family. They stood quietly watching me and my frog. I smiled.

"I would like to introduce you to our newest frog...the Christmas Frog." I set my corny little statue up on the mantle so he could see all of the festivities, hear all of the laughter and be a part of our Holiday traditions, once again.

Hit the arrow, sit back, tap your feet and sing along !

A Gaggle !

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 14:27:00 +0000

Just wanted to introduce you to a few of my neighbors !

Believe !

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 02:01:00 +0000

Happy New Year !

Like most people, I spend a fair amount of time thinking about what my New Year resolutions and goals might be. Some years I decide to just write a list of what I hope to accomplish in that year. Other years, I decide to just bash on regardless, with no resolutions or goals in mind. This year I have decided to just focus upon a guiding word to lead me through 2012. At first I thought of simplicity but decided there really is nothing simplistic or simple about me or my life. I like the idea of living a simple life but then everything gets complicated.

I next decided on living for the moment. I know that is four words. It is also a rather popular, overused phrase and it is easier said than done. I could easily live for the moment if I didn't have four adult children, one husband, five grandbabies, a gaggle of friends, a job, and a zillion unfinished projects. It can be difficult to focus on the moment when one is being pulled in multiple directions.

My husband seemed to come up with his focus word quickly, without much hesitation. Forward. He stated it simply and confidently. Forward is the direction he plans on moving this year, with confidence and purpose. No looking back, no second guessing himself, no regrets.

I envied his ability to find his perfect word with such ease. I plopped down in front of our Christmas tree, staring at the lights, as I thought about my perfect word. And then...there it was...dangling down in front of me, hanging from a branch. Believe. Just believe.

Believe in myself.
Believe in the power of a positive attitude.
Believe in living a healthy lifestyle.
Believe in the power of positive thinking.
Believe in living for the moment.
Believe in the power of humor, laughter, playfulness.
Believe in the goodness of humans.
Believe in the Golden Rule.
Believe that good things do happen to good people...every day.
Believe in the power of the Universe.
Believe that my Dad is watching me from heaven.
Believe in the power of prayer.
Believe in miracles.
Believe that the every day simple pleasures are truly what matters.
Believe in the power of a smile, a nod, a hug.
Believe in living each day to the fullest, with energy, motivation and grace.
Believe in being the best person I can possibly be, each and every day.
Believe in love.

I believe that 2012 will be filled with positive energy, positive changes, and many wild and crazy adventures. There is going to be lots of loving, giggling, playing, creating, and reflecting.

I believe in you.

What do you believe ?

Fluff

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 12:47:00 +0000

Everyone needs a little fluff in their life !

Just sit the hell down and write !

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 01:57:00 +0000

Dear Blog,

I feel as if I owe you a written apology for having neglected you for SO long. How ridiculous is that ? Several of my 3AM anxiety attacks might even have been due to the fact that I have not written forever. I have missed you and the art of writing. My brain is going to bust open from the ideas that are ricocheting around inside. I don't believe there is any graceful way to slide back into writing on a regular basis. I just need to do it. Fearing that you might be angry with me for the L.O.N.G. hiatus, I have actually created a list of reasons as to why I have been absent for so long. Here goes ~

1. I had a speck in my eye. More accurately I had a whitehead thingy near my tear duct which my sister convinced me to let her remove with a sharp object. My husband held me down while she performed this mini-surgery in my living room. I will admit that I yelled, wiggled and squirmed but the surgery was a success. Whitehead thingy is gone and I can still see.

2. For the past ten months I have been grieving for my dad. I am trying to figure out how life goes on without him. I have not found the answer yet. I cry at random times and my heart aches. If you are reading this post and your dad is still alive please give him a call, write him a letter or give him a bear hug. You could do all three. xo

3. One day I quietly sat and watched a woolly bear caterpillar as it crossed my porch.

4. I am learning how to pray.

5. On numerous occasions I chased Lady the Goat around my yard. She is an escape artist and thinks she is a dog. After munching her way through my flower gardens she would appear on my front porch and bang her head on the door. Getting her back into her pen is no easy task.

6. My Mermaid rug project is ALMOST finished. I started this rug four years ago. Talk about embarrassingly slow. I am one slow hooker. I often have to decide between writing and hooking...and then I wander off to take a photo walk with my trusty camera.

7. I have developed a mini-bicep muscle. I refer to it as my (cap)gun. Twice a week I force myself to attend BootCamp. Never in a zillion years did I think that I would be doing push-ups, pull-ups or planks. Okay, so I still can't do a pull-up and my push-ups are wimpy but my planks are noteworthy.

8. Three months after Dad passed away, Mom suffered a stroke. I am still trying to figure out life with my 'new' mom. Life is different. Very different.

9. Six months ago we welcomed Grandbaby Five into our family. She is a cutie pie, full of love, laughter and giggles. I could just kiss her to pieces. I love how our family tree continues to grow.

10. My name is Debbie and I am addicted to Needle Naps. Ahhh...Zzzzz. Twice a week you can find me at Manchester Acupuncture Studio snoozing away while needles stick out of my fingers, toes, head and knees.

11. No more dirty eating for me. I now follow a clean eating regime which basically means I have taken processed foods out of my diet. Lots of protein, veggies and fruits and complex carbs...and an occasional peanut M&M.

12. In June, I had the honor of being a reader at my niece's wedding. Surrounded by family and friends, it felt right to read the special words which hopefully the newlyweds will hold in their hearts as they start their new life together.

13. Chased the chickens out of the garden, off of my porch and out of the garage. I don't like the chickens.

14. When it is not a BootCamp day I jog. I would like to say that I run but I am pretty sure that I am moving at the pace of a jogger. Whatever.

15. I swallowed a bug while jogging.

16. I saw a falling star the other evening. I made a wish.

17. I pretended to be a dinosaur while playing with my twin grandsons. We were friendly dinosaurs who chased each other until we fell down laughing.

18. Working on being able to beat my husband consistently at Bananagrams ! This is a tough one.

19. I took a workshop on learning how to mat a picture. I now have a better understanding of why it is so expensive to mat and frame pictures. Not sure I have the patience or skill to try this on my own.

20. I tried my hand at milking a goat. If we had to depend on me to get our daily milk we would be thirsty.

21. I ran a 5K recently. It was a gorgeous course that weaved through an ocean town. Breathtaking views inspired me as did being surrounded by fourteen hundred people who shared a common goal with me ~ finish the race ! Not only did I finish the race with a time of 33:10 I made sure to finish with a smile.

22. Many days I could be found dancing around my kitchen with my 2 year old granddaughter. How can I resist when she tugs at me, looks up at me with those big blue eyes and says, "Dance,Grammie dance !" So I dance !

23. I do believe in signs from above. I was followed on my morning walks by a little bluebird. It was my dad. I have no doubt.

24. Many trips to the ocean which nourished my soul. Ocean air, gritty sand, numbing water, hot sun filled my senses and made me so thankful for so much.

25. Caught up on my reading. 'Breakfast with Buddha', 'Shadow in the Wind' and 'The Help' were three of the books that kept me up late reading. Getting lost in a good book is a great escape.

26. I participated in the 365 Photo Project for over six months. Each day I had to post a photo which would allow me to remember my year in photos. I learned a great deal about photography, "met" some incredibly talented photographers, and greatly enjoyed the project. But it did seem to take on a life of its own and I found myself having no time for hooking my Mermaid, reading or writing blog posts. Hope to jump start that project in the future.

27. Sang ' The Wheels on the Bus' and ' Ring Around the Rosie' more times than I can count. My grandbabies keep me young.

28. Our community and I lost a dear friend. Suzie was so much to so many...she was a leader, a mentor, a volunteer, a wife, a mom, a grandma, a friend, an inspiration. She fought a hard battle against cancer for quite a few years. She was loved and she is missed.

29. Took the grandtwins to a Children's Museum where we explored many exhibits together. One of our favorites was donning goggles as we dug for dinosaur bones.

30. Drove up the Maine coast and discovered a town I fell in love with ~ Cape Porpoise. I could totally see myself living in this community. Maybe it is time for a change.

31. Babysat PeeWee the Great Dane for a weekend. She was homesick the entire time. And she thinks she is a lapdog.

32. Attended a three day Writing Workshop featuring Patti Digh, Jennifer Louden and Susan Piver. Motivating, inspiring, hilarious, creative... these three writers instilled in me the confidence and the desire to start writing again. And Patti Digh's words have become my new mantra...'Just sit the hell down and write !'

Little Grasshopper

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 18:36:00 +0000

I took this photo when I was in Florida in November. I took many shots and this was the only one that was not blurry or shaky or half a grasshopper. We now have so much snow here in NH I think it will be forever before I see green grass or a grasshopper !

Better Late than Never

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Mon, 10 Jan 2011 13:43:00 +0000

My "Christmas Cactus" has never bloomed on December 25th but was very close this year ! The beautiful flowers arrived for the New Year ! I am participating in 'Macro Monday' ~ always working on my photo skills !

Wordless Wednesday

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 11:00:00 +0000

Patiently waiting for...

The wisdom of a child

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 02:55:00 +0000

When I was a child, summer vacation seemed to last forever. We packed so much fun into each day ~ from the minute we hopped out of bed in the early morning until the moon came up and we ran around playing flashlight tag. But it just wasn't the summer time which seemed timeless. All of the seasons, all of the months, all of the days seemed to be endless. There was never any concern about running out of time. We just played until we collapsed. So many hours of tag, kickball, hide and seek, jump roping and bike riding. No need for planners or to do lists or even a watch. We just lived for each moment. We focused on the 'here and now' instead of getting lost in the past or wishing for the future.

We just lived for each moment. We focused on the 'here and now' instead of getting lost in the past or wishing for the future.

Oh. My. Goodness.

When I was seven years old I had a clearer understanding of how to be mindful of moments, on the importance of enjoying each day and on making the most of my time. Today at the age of fifty-three I have to work hard to accomplish these goals. I need constant reminders to stop and smell the roses. I get caught up in my past and worry to much about the future. I have difficulty appreciating the small 'things' in life. Those small 'things' really are the big things. Stress levels are high and lists are long as I try to do it all. The sad fact is that I often end up accomplishing very little since it can be difficult to focus on the here and now.

So through the writing of the post I have avoided long expensive hours on the couch of a therapist. I know what I need to do in order to live my life with purpose and intention. I will start appreciating and celebrating the small stuff. Being mindful of moments will be more than just words ~ I will walk the walk ! I will allow the inner child within to come out on a regular basis so I will be reminded of what is truly impotant. Time will not be my master anymore. A seven year old with a pixie haircut, skinny legs and crooked teeth will gently remind me to have fun because time is running out.

Just one more time...

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 16:06:00 +0000

The flight from San Jose to Las Vegas was nondescript. Typical flight attendant speech during take-off, same small bag of dry crackers, and the dull murmur of voices mixed with the occasional hacking cough from the man sitting two rows in front of me. The sky was cloudy gray and offered little distraction for me. I thought about ordering a Bloody Mary to help me relax but decided that I needed to be clear headed to face what lie ahead. I read the same page in my book multiple times before I finally gave up. I tried a few deep breathing exercises but it felt like I was going to suffocate. Napping was out of the question. Couldn't this pilot fly this thing any faster ? Did he not realize that I was in a hurry ? The question my kids had asked me a thousand times kept running through my head ~ "are we there yet?"

And finally we landed. It was one of those bumpy, hang onto the seat in front of you while saying a little prayer, landings. Of course I was seated way back in the plane. I impatiently waited for the gazillion people in front of me to get their belongings. Jeez, this must be national slow motion day and nobody told me. Do these people not know that I have a situation and I need to get off this piece of metal immediately? PRONTO. I turned my cell phone on. No new messages. I decided that was a good thing. No news was good news. I worked on my deep breathing exercises as I fought the urge to climb over the seats in order to get off the plane. Did the lady in 22A not understand that I was in a hurry? Obviously not as she decided to stretch her arms, readjust her panties and freshen up her lipstick in the middle of the aisle. I bit my tongue. Somebody somewhere decided this would be a good day to test my patience. Not sure I will be getting a gold star on this one.

I don't think I even responded when the flight attendant and pilot flashed their unnaturally white smiles at me as they told me to have a great day. If they only knew. Parts of that day seem like a blur while other parts will never be forgotten.

I had never been to the Las Vegas airport before so it was rather overwhelming to be greeted by rows and rows of slot machines. People stood at the machines trying one last time to hit it big. It was the perfect location to do some prime people watching if I had been in the mood, if I had nothing else on my mind, if I hadn't felt like I was going to vomit at any second.

I had a very short layover in Vegas before jumping onto the next jet for the final leg of my journey. I was headed to Florida to see my dad. One more time. Over the past few months Dad's health had been failing and I had made many trips from my home in NH down to Florida. It only takes a few hours if I get a direct flight and if the pilot puts the pedal to the metal. Hmmm...do planes have gas pedals ? I must google that at a later date. But this trip was entirely different.

I had been visiting my oldest daughter in sunny CA for a couple of weeks. She had recently given birth to her first child and my husband and I were meeting our granddaughter for the first time. She truly is our little sweet pea. We were spending our days cuddling, snuggling and bonding with her. But it was while I was there that I received the phone call that Dad had been moved to a hospice facility. I knew this day was coming. I had been to visit Dad two weeks earlier and it was clear that his life here on Earth was coming to an end. I told him that I loved him. He told me that he loved me. There were no deep revelations or new understanding. There were no apologies given. There were no secrets shared. There was just the love between a dad and his daughter and that was enough. So when the phone call came telling me that he was in Hospice I did lots of self talk ~ " Debbie, you are prepared for this. You knew that this day was coming. This isn't a shock. Buck up girl. Go enjoy your little sweet pea. You said your good-byes. Be strong." I decided this might be a good time to try out some deep breathing exercises or meditation or yoga since I felt as if I was going to start vomiting violently. So I did what I do best in emergency situations...I cried. Hard. Non-stop. And in the middle of the night I knew what I had to do. I had to get to my Dad's side one more time so I could tell him that I loved him - just one more time.

I told my story to the lady at Southwest Airlines. She worked hard to get me to Tampa as quickly as possible but the reality is that CA is far away from Florida ~ over 3000 miles in fact. She booked my trip for me. I would be by my Dad's bedside in ten hours if you factor in time zone changes which always confuses me. My next call was to my sister who was with my Dad. I asked her to hold the phone to my Dad's ear. "Dad, I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. I need to see you Dad. I love you Dad." Please don't die Dad. I'm not ready for this. I need more time.

I walked around the Las Vegas airport with all of its bells and whistles. I needed to find a quiet zone. I needed to call my sister so I could update her on my progress. I wanted her to hold the phone to Dad's ear so I could tell him that I was almost there. I needed to tell him that I loved him just one more time.

I sat down on a hard plastic seat outside of the airport bathrooms surrounded by hundreds of people. I hit the speed dial button which would connect me to my sister. She finally answered. "Deb, Dad passed away ten minutes ago." No. She must be mistaken. I was pretty positive he was going to wait for me to get there so I could tell him just one more time that I loved him. How could it be that time had run out ? I needed to tell him just one more time how much he had meant to me. But just like all those people standing at the slot machines, my luck had run out. I had run out of time. Again.

Stars and Stripes Forever !

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 11:56:00 +0000

Spring Cleaning 101

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 02:21:00 +0000

Once again I have allowed my blog to take a backseat to all that has been going on in my life. And that's okay. I realized that I get uncomfortable when my blog begins to take on a life of its own and starts to control me. No, no, no, dear nourish your soul blog. I am the boss of my destiny and I will write when I feel the desire, the need, the urge. Now don't get me wrong, dear blogging friends. I do care about what you have to say. I do love to read your words and check out your photos and find out how life is treating you. I do care. And of course, I want people to read my blog ~ after all, isn't that why we create blogs in the first place ? But my menopausal ~~personalities~~ personality has decided that it is time to get this house in order. And I mean a top to bottom, attic to basement, corner to corner, clean sweep. I mean the deep thorough cleaning which does not allow for sweeping things under the rug. And so it began... innocently enough.

I started pulling items out of the kitchen cabinets. My 11 month old granddaughter Olive actually inspired the cleaning of the kitchen cabinets since that is her favorite place to explore. She recently came across this ~

and stared at me with bewilderment. I tried to explain to her that there is a logical reason for having a gazillion pepper shakers in the cabinet. I won't name any names but someone has a salt addiction and since I don't want the title of nagging mother-in-law I keep my mouth closed about the dangers of too much sodium in one's diet ...and now I must apologize to my mom for mocking her when I was younger for collecting dozens of empty peanut butter containers and allowing them to clutter up her cabinets. In the midst of all this cleaning I realized I had become my mother. I took a break from my cleaning so I could process this realization.

I also tackled the ever growing piles and piles and more piles of books in my house. I love to read. I love to read the old-fashioned way by holding a real book in my hands ~ no automatic high tech book machine for me ~ I love to smell the book and feel the pages between my fingers. But my book collection is a wee bit out of control so I weeded through so I could take some to our local library. These are the books I decided to give away...

...notice any particular theme among them ?

I couldn't bring myself to give any of the others away. I know what you are thinking...hoarder ! No, I'm not. I just love my books. And there is a logical explanation why I have all of those pepper shakers. I took a break from my cleaning so I could read 'School of Essential Ingredients'. It is a great read for the beach or if you are trying to escape from cleaning.

I decided to tackle the pantry which can be a scary proposition since there is often a forgotten potato lurking somewhere...there are few things that smell worse than a rotten potato. I wore my protective cleaning gear to protect myself from the overgrown dust bunnies and entered with caution. I tried to organize the canned goods alphabetically but lost interest with that by the time I was up to the letter 'C'. I realized that I could probably make enough pasta to feed our entire town...does spaghetti get stale ? On the very top shelves in the pantry I found these...

My husband found these in the basement of an old house he bought years ago ~ a true fixer upper. I don't know quite what to do with these gems but one thing is certain ~ I am not going to sample any of them. So back to the top of the pantry shelf they went ~ to sit until the next time I get into a cleaning frenzy.

The desk and its drawers are one of my favorite items to clean out. It is like taking a walk down memory lane...and I sit down to read old birthday cards, love letters, and pictures. I laugh, I smile, and sometimes I even cry. This whole spring cleaning routine is exhausting...physically and mentally. I open one last drawer in the desk to find ~

and I decide that I have done enough cleaning for one ~~year~~ day and I sit down to color my world and nourish my soul.

Let me tell you...

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Sun, 23 May 2010 16:23:00 +0000

about the birds...

and the bees....

and the flowers...

and the trees...

and the moon up above...

and a thing called LOVE...

Life is busy. Life is full. Life is good.

Zero Tolerance

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Wed, 21 Apr 2010 15:46:00 +0000

In January, our family celebrated the birthday of my grandtwins. They turned one year old. We had balloons, cake, gifts and the house was filled with laughter and the sounds of celebration.

In January, Phoebe Prince made the decision to end her life. She was fifteen years old. Her younger sister found her hanging in the stairwell of their apartment. Phoebe was the victim of bullying at South Hadley High School in Massachusetts. Her family had moved to America in the autumn of 2009 from Ireland. Phoebe was the new kid in town. And she was not met by the Welcome Wagon.

A freshman at So. Hadley High, Phoebe probably...maybe... dreamt of attending football games, semi-formals, giggling with girlfriends, getting her driver's license, going to concerts and finding Mr. Right. I don't know for sure. I never met Phoebe Prince but I wish I had. I wish I could have put a protective cloak around her and protected her from the bullies ~ the seven girls and two boys who saw it as their right to ridicule Phoebe constantly with verbal abuse. Nonstop. Throwing cans at her as they drove by. Drawing obscene pictures of Phoebe and hanging them for all to see. Emailing her, texting her, Facebook bullying, calling her obscenities as she entered the classroom. 24-7. I have a heavy feeling in my gut as I think about how Phoebe felt every day when she entered ~~hell~~ school.

I have been having flashbacks to my days in junior high school. The new kid in town, I was bullied by three girls. Three mean girls. Nancy, Valerie and Maureen verbally teased me and physically pushed me around ~ I avoided the stairwells and empty hallways. I feared being locked in a locker - yes, I was quite skinny back in those days and easily could have fit into a locker. They told me they were going to shove me in there and that no one would find me for days. Looking back, I now realize that I probably would have been found alive but at the age of 13, it was a threat that I took seriously. They pulled my hair. They elbowed me hard. I went home and cried. Mom told me to ignore them. I tried. Fortunately, after a year of this abuse, someone new moved into town and they moved onto their next victim. Phew.

So I am now obsessed with Phoebe Prince. There has been a fair amount of finger pointing as to who is at fault. The school, the bullies, the parents of the nine bullies, society at large...you and me. Have you ever looked the other way when you have witnessed a bullying situation ? Would you step in and get involved ? We must. Our society must take a stand against the bullies of the world. And I mean that wholeheartedly and sincerely.

When my husband and I were in Washington, DC recently, we stood in many lines throughout our visit. Musuem lines, restaurant lines, White House lines...but we were patient and chatted quietly while waiting our turn. One day we were in a long line while in the Smithsonian. There were fifty people behind us in line. I know because I counted them while waiting patiently. I noticed two teen-age girls quietly walking up the aisle, cutting everyone in line. I thought to myself, 'No. They wouldn't dare cut fifty people. They must know someone in line.' Well. Apparently they thought they knew me because they cut right in front of me. Out of all those people they picked the wrong lady to cut.
"Excuse me. You don't really think you are going to cut in front of me, do you?"
They turned and just glared at me.
"I am in line. I have been in line and you are not going to cut in front of all of these fifty people. The line forms at the rear, girls." I smiled, sort of.
They realized that I am teacher material. They realized that I am uncuttable.
"Oh. We didn't know there was a line." And they turned themselves around and went to the end of the line.
People around me thanked me, stating that they were glad I spoke up. They wanted to but they didn't dare. They didn't want to get involved.

Well, I am going to get involved. I am a protector of the underdog. I will take on the bullies of the world. I want to get into my car and drive down to South Hadley and have dicussions with the nine bullies who took Phoebe's life. I wonder if they were bullied at some point in their life. I read with sadness that one of the girls wrote 'Accomplished' on their Facebook wall the day after Phoebe ended her life. I want to talk to the parents of all involved. I want to help.

This is not the world I want my grandchildren to grow up in. I want their world to be one full of love, rainbows, four leaf clovers, peace, daisies, balloons and nonstop laughter ~ a life of celebration. I will don my supergrandma cape and protect them from the bullies, remembering Phoebe Prince and the life that was stolen from her.

Stale Jelly Beans

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 13:54:00 +0000

She stood on her front steps, soaking up the darkness. She felt almost giddy since she couldn't remember ever being up and dressed at this hour of the day. She couldn't ever remember seeing the sun rise before. Her fifteen year old body was filled with anticipation. She was going to attend her first sunrise service at a local church. Her parents were not church going people so her religious background was a blank page. Her knowledge of Easter centered around rabbits, candy, and new dresses. She knew that there had to be more to Easter than boiled eggs and baskets filled with plastic grass. She was grateful that her best friend had invited her to attend the sunrise service with her family.

She bounced around on the front steps waiting for them to arrive. She had an all-over good feeling about the day. The night before, her mom had made a cake shaped like an Easter Bunny. This was a huge accomplishment for her mom since cooking/baking were not her areas of expertise. The bunny cake had come out perfect and it was now the centerpiece on the kitchen table. Covered in coconut with jelly bean eyes and nose, it appeared to welcome all who entered this house. Her mouth watered just thinking about the huge piece of cake she would enjoy later in the day.

The sky was still dark when she hopped into her friend's car. She was a bit nervous since she had no knowledge of church services or ceremonies. She didn't know how to behave or what to expect. Her mother had given her a one dollar bill to give at church. She checked to make sure it was inside her pocket. She wondered who she had to pay or when. She decided that she would just follow the lead of her friend.

The service was held in a field on a hillside. She followed the people up the hill to where there was a huge wooden cross standing. She prayed, she sang, she clasped the hand of her friend. And as the sun rose over the hill, she felt her eyes fill with tears and her heart filled with a feeling she could not describe. A sense of hope and joy filled her entire being.

On the ride back to her home, the excitement and anticipation of the day which lie ahead made it difficult to sit still. She couldn't wait to tell her parents about her experience. Maybe her family could start going to church together each Sunday. Couldn't hurt to ask them one more time. Her belly rumbled and she realized how hungry she was. Maybe Mom would let her have a tiny piece of the Easter Bunny cake for her breakfast. It couldn't hurt to ask.

She bounded out of the car, the sun filling the sky. She ran into the house, singing one of the hymns she had just learned. She hoped her younger sister was awake so they could attack their Easter baskets. She entered the kitchen and stopped skipping. She stopped singing. The sun stopped shining.

Her mother stood in the middle of the room, hair disheveled, bathrobe pulled tight around her thin body. The dark circles under her eyes seemed darker then ever. "Mom, what's wrong?"
"Your father didn't come home last night."
"What do you mean? Where is he?"
"He went to the neighbor's house to play cards lat night and he never came home. Go get him."
Tears filled the young girl's eyes. She headed out across the lawn, a path she knew all too well. Before long, she looked up to see her father headed her way, his head down. She turned back to the house and stomped inside. He entered, head still down. His wife greeted him with an icy glare, her cheeks hollow, her face full of anger. She turned on her heel, and slammed her bedroom door behind her.

The fifteen year old turned to her father, and she waited while she slowly transformed into the role of parent. The smell of alcohol poured out of his entire being.
"What were you thinking?"
No response.
"Do you know what day this is?"
No response.
"Today is Easter, A day of new beginnings, a fresh start. What kind of day do you think we are going to have?"
He attempted to make eye contact. "I need to sit down."
"Fine. You go sit down and I will try to figure out how to make Mom happy. I will try to save the day. One more time."
She resisted the urge to slap him across the face. He soon passed out in 'his' chair and was snoring. She stood staring at him, not knowing where to turn. She looked at the door of her mother's bedroom, shut tight as her mother tried to protect herself from any more hurt. She tried to take herself back to the hill where she had felt safe.

As she walked past the Easter Bunny cake, she thought about how stale and dried out it looked. It no longer looked appealing or appetizing. She laughed at how naive she had been...new beginnings, fresh start...not this time.

Cherry Blossom Special

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Sat, 03 Apr 2010 01:31:00 +0000

We just arrived back home after spending six fantabulous days in Washington, D.C. ! We were there at the beginning of the Cherry Blossom Festival which was an event I have always wanted to attend. Over three thousand cherry trees surround the Tidal Basin area. The trees were given to the U.S.A. in 1912 from the city of Tokyo to celebrate the friendship between Japan and the United States. In 1915, the United States gave Japan flowering dogwood trees as a gift. The trees weren't quite at peak when we were there but it didn't matter. They were beautiful and I truly appreciated being able to soak up all of this beauty. Enjoy.

I am not a shooter of bunnies !

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 00:53:00 +0000

My first grade students gathered around me for story time. They all got comfortable on the rug as I made myself comfortable in the old, dilapidated chair which held the honor of being known as our reader's chair. I waited until everyone had settled down and then began reading. All eyes were on the pictures as I read with expression and a variety of voices. You could have heard a pin drop as all eyes and ears followed the story. And then out of nowhere a little voice spoke up and said, "Mrs. Kelley, what do you say?!"

I looked at the owner of the voice, six year old little Emily. Sweet, precocious Emily with her matching hair ribbons and frilly pouffy dresses sitting in front of me, staring right through me with her huge eyes.

"What do I say about what, Emily?"

"You know. You just shot a bunny."

I was totally confused at this point. The picture book had no bunnies featured in it. I wasn't wearing a bunny or gun jewelry. What in the world was Emily talking about? I looked over at the paraprofessional in my class who was doubled over in laughter. What the heck ?!

"Emily, I am confused. I don't know what you are talking about. I didn't shoot any bunnies."

"Yes, you did. You did so shoot a bunny." She glared at me.

The other students watched the exchange. Being thoroughly confused I didn't know which way to turn. Maybe Emily had bumped her head out at recess? I asked her to come up to see me, hoping to clear up my confusion.

"Emily, I didn't shoot any bunnies. I would never shoot a bunny. I like bunnies.'

Emily shook her little head. She then whispered in my ear, "Mrs. Kelley, shooting bunnies means you farted."

"WHAT!! Emily, I absolutely did not shoot any bunnies !"

"Yes, you did. I heard you."

The paraprofessional leaves the room, tears streaming down her face.

"Emily, it was the chair squeaking. I did not shoot any bunnies. Now let's finish the story."

Emily folded her arms and continued to stare at me with a 'yes, you did' look.

I tried to regain my composure. I tried to get everyone focused on the story again. But the words bunny shooter just kept running through my head. Hopefully the other students were oblivious to the exchange between Emily and myself. I certainly didn't want to be labeled as a bunny shooter.

The day continued and soon we were all involved with making cheerio necklaces to celebrate the 100th day of school. Stringing 100 cheerios requires one to focus so the bunny shooting episode soon was forgotten.

Parent/teacher conferences were that evening. Conferences can be stressful because you never know what to expect. The first parents walked in, sat down at the round table with me and smiled as they asked, "Shoot any bunnies lately?"

My name is Debbie and I am a hooker.

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 01:18:00 +0000

In my spare time...I hook rugs. Traditional rug hooking. I started hooking almost four years ago and I am totally hooked. This hobby began innocently enough ~ I wanted to spend more time with my oldest daughter so the two of us took a rug hooking class at a local high school as part of their adult education courses. One thing quickly led to another. I love the colors of the wool. At times hooking can be relaxing, at other times frustrating. I love figuring out what colors to use in my rug, I enjoy the friendships I have made, I love being creative. My brain unwinds as I hook. The picture above is of my second rug which was designed by my instructor. The two pictures below are of wool being dyed for my current project.

These are the piles of wool at the studio where I take classes. Sometimes I forget to hook and just get lost in all of the colors, dreaming about future hooking projects.

Books, books and more books in the studio to help inspire us or guide us. I rely on these books lots as I work on my latest rug.

On a recent Saturday I went to a hooking workshop which was like hooking heaven. Just sit and hook and talk with people who have a common hobby as you ~ the perfect way to spend a Saturday. The photo below shows a work in progress. I love the colors and the paisley print the artist chose.

This zebra almost looks like an oil painting. My goal is to someday be able to hook like this!

Another work in progress by one of my hooking friends~ I just want to touch this sheep. His coat looks so realistic.

The next three photos are of a huge wall hanging of our Solar System. The pictures do not do it justice. This piece truly is a work of art and is just one of many rugs created by a hooking artist.

I LOVE this sunflower rug. The artist has only been hooking for a short amount of time but her talent shines through !! This is blue ribbon work !

This rug is titled Mini-Fantasy ~ and the artist chose the perfect colors. Perfect hooking!

And here is my current project ~ Queen of the Sea. I really need to finish her since I have ideas for my next ten projects. So when I am not blogging or caring for grandbabies or working or gardening or reading or exercising this is where you will find me ~ playing with wool and colors and letting my creative side be nourished !

I’m not bowling alone.

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 13:40:00 +0000

I hate it when I suffer from a blogging block. For the past week I have been looking for some raw, clever, creative blogging material. Nothing too exciting happening in my corner of the world though. And I am feeling the pressure. My daughter, April, has hit the blogging jackpot this week…she has had over 25,000 visitors to her blog, Eclectic Effervescence, THIS week alone. Granted, she is one talented writer and she has taken on the mega-giant known as Facebook but her cause is valid and important on so many levels ~ freedom of speech, women’s rights, and right of babies to be nourished without having to suffocate under a blanket while eating. I am more than a little proud of April and her writing success but now…I have hit the writing wall…hard. I did consider the fact that April’s success came in part because she is writing about breasts and our societies’ confusion over the true purpose of breasts. So for a nano second I considered writing about vaginas. Maybe if I wrote about the saga of a menopausal vagina I would become an overnight blogging success but there were a couple of problems with that idea. One…my husband and children would be mortified and probably disown me. Two…what would I actually write about my menopausal vagina? I don’t think anyone really wants those type of details. So back to the blogging think tank I go.

I am fortunate that today is a Friday which means I can once again participate in ‘Only the Good Friday’, a meme created by my blogging friend who lives at This Eclectic Life . Maybe given a little structure and organization I would be able to focus. So I reflected on the week to try and determine my best thing. And after a couple of cups of my Yogi Egyptian Licorice tea which always calms me I had that ‘AHA’ moment. That moment when the Universe lines everything up perfectly. A feel good, let’s get writing moment.

I just finished reading ‘The Geography of Bliss’ by Eric Weiner. A definite worthwhile read about Eric’s travels to find the happiest place on earth. He states that 70% of our happiness comes from our relationships with other people. I knew that being around my family and friends ~~always~~ usually makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. He mentions the book ‘Bowling Alone’ by Robert Putnam which states that our sense of connection is fraying. We lead fragmented lives and spend less time socializing in person. Social networking on the Internet cannot replace the ‘up close and personal’ interaction between humans. When I am with my family and friends I can physically feel my soul being nourished. Sappy, I know, but it is the truth and the story behind my blog title.

So as I was considering what my best thing for this week was, Weiner’s words were buzzing around inside my head. I then realized what an incredibly full week I had lived surrounded by my family, friends, delicious food, bowling, rug hooking, laughter, shopping, romancing…lots of bliss. So many good things.

And as I organized my pictures of the past week to see if there were any which would tie in with this post, the little hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when I found this shot. My husband and I went to the beach on Sunday to enjoy the warm air which had moved into our area. This sign was in a gift shop window.

It IS in the shelter of each other that the People live…and may you never bowl alone.

What's your best thing ?

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 12:13:00 +0000

There are many things I miss about having my children grown and gone. I miss the sounds of their voices and the laughter. I don't miss the dirty laundry mountain. I miss the hikes through the woods as we sang 'The ants go marching one by one...' I miss their hugs and kisses. I don't miss the 'clean your bedroom' routine. I miss the fact that I can't blame my messy house on them. I miss the creativity and energy that was contagious. I don't miss the waiting up until they returned home ~ safe and sound. I miss the conversations. I don't miss the squabbling. One tradition that I miss is 'What's your best thing'? At dinner time in order to keep everyone focused and positive we would each have to say the best thing that happened to us that day. Sometimes the answer might be 'I woke up' but that was okay. No one could pass - you had to say something. It actually was a wonderful conversation starter plus it allowed me to have insight into their lives that might have been missed.

So the other day I was out wandering through Blogland when I came across a new place to visit ~ This Eclectic Life. I felt very comfortable, sat right down and read for awhile. One of the features of this blog is 'Only the Good Friday' and it caught my attention. It is a meme and I don't usually participate in memes because I don't like any blogging restrictions. I like to blog when I want to blog or when I have the time to blog BUT I totally feel the need to focus on the positive in my life which is the intent of 'Only the Good Friday'. You just have to focus on something good that has happened in your life recently. No negativity allowed. It is simple ~ it can be a picture, a recipe, a thought ~ just keep it positive. So I signed on to help spread the good news because we certainly need it.

So what is my best thing? The obvious would be the fact that after three days without electricity we regained our power. I got to take a hot shower. Life was wicked good then. Plus three of my four kids were home for part of the outage adventure so we played Scrabble and other games during the outage which was fun. No television was heavenly. All good but not my best thing.

After the power came back I went with my husband to get our generator serviced. I thought this was a quick mission. Nope. I sat in the truck waiting, waiting and finally stomped into the generator garage to remind my husband that I was alive. He was talking to the technician. Surprise. I was standing, tapping my toes loudly when I noticed a jar on the counter FULL of Fireballs ~ one of my favorite candies which I have not had the pleasure of sucking on in a long time! I walked right over to the counter, stuck my hand in and pulled one out. I wanted to pop it in my mouth right then but what if it was one of the wicked hot ones and I couldn't hold it in my mouth until the hotness dissolved? I didn't want this technician to see me as a wimp. So I shoved it in my coat pocket for later. Minutes go by, generator talk still droning on so to the counter I go and grab another Fireball, giggling as I pull my hand out. I looked for a sign that said 'one per customer' but none was anywhere to be seen so now two Fireballs sat in my pocket. I walked around the generator showroom trying to figure out what in the world two grown men could find so interesting about this piece of metal when the urge came over me to grab just one more Fireball. Now I am feeling a little bit naughty at this point. I know I shouldn't grab the third Fireball but I did. It was done rather sneakily but I did notice the technician watching me. Oops. Time for me to go sit in the truck. So off I went ... three brilliant red Fireballs in my pocket... which I am saving for the perfect moment when I can just sit back, eyes closed, enjoying each molecule of hotness. That was a good day.

What's your best thing?

What's in your gutter?

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 11:54:00 +0000

I first noticed this house while driving through a nearby city. I found myself driving by on a regular basis just so I could see if the grass was still growing out of the gutters. Finally, just had to take a picture. I think the grass gives the house a little more personality and for whatever odd reason, it always makes me smile. Hope the homeowner feels the same.

Jump Right In with Eyes Wide Open !

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 15:37:00 +0000

As we approached the camp, I had no idea what to expect, but what's new? The entire experience up to this point had been full of unknowns, new experiences and trepidation over what lie ahead. The view all around me was a sea of pink. Pink bubbles as far as the eye could see. I assessed the situation and tried to figure out where my pink bubble was located. I found a man walking around with an official looking name tag on and asked him where my pink bubble was set up.

"All the tents are laying over there. Just grab one and set it up."

He had to be kidding. There is no way they expected us to set up our own tent after just completing a twenty mile walk in weather that was so hot my armpits were stuck to my body. I had sticky Popsicle goop all down the front of my shirt and Gatorade stains made me look like my whole body had been dipped in tie dye. If I thought too long and hard about it I could feel a blister working hard to develop on the back of my left heel. If I thought at all, I could feel every muscle in my body screaming at me to go take a hot shower and get a massage.

And then I stopped.

I thought about the women and men who had undergone weeks and months of chemotherapy, radiation, invasive surgeries. I thought about the pain, the fear, the side effects they live with every day as they fight to survive. I thought about the friends I have lost to this dread disease. I thought about how hard so many of my friends had fought to survive. I thought about my mom and her battle with breast cancer 24 years ago and how thankful I am that she survived. I gave myself a good bitch slap, ended my pity party, walked over and grabbed my pink bubble tent. I proudly set it up in the field with all of the thousands of other Susan G. Komen participants who were walking with me in the 3 Day, 60 mile walk.

That was in 2007. I had the privilege of walking in the Susan G Komen 3 Day for the Cure walk with five wonderful friends. Our team name was 'Melons with Moxie'. We raised over $15,000. for the cause. I was Major Melon and the other teammates were Senior Melon, Math Melon, Ellen Melon, Motivating Melon and Stylin' Melon. We walked, laughed, sang, cried, danced and were dedicated to this life changing event. I don't type that lightly. It was a life changing event for each of us in very personal ways. Have you ever had the privilege to participate in something that is so much bigger than yourself? A chance to make a positive difference in someone's life? For three intense days we were surrounded by powerfully positive attitudes, mind boggling motivation and lots of love. These weren't just invisible concepts. These were tangible, 'you could feel it in the air' actions that were happening all around us. We never felt that we were walking on concrete or cement. We felt that we were walking on clouds and sunshine for sixty miles over three days.

Don't get me wrong. We all had our moments. Blisters, nasty blisters like I had never seen before developed on many heels and toes. Moments of missing our loved ones sometimes overwhelmed us. Many emotions surged through our bodies as we walked, hoping and praying that the cure for this disease be found and no one would ever need to walk for this cause again.

And now I have made the decision to walk again. On October 8, 9 and 10th I will be walking in the Susan G. Komen 3 Day Walk for the Cure in Washington, DC. I will walk hard and steady, knowing that I am making a difference, knowing that I am part of something so much bigger than myself. I am once again putting together a team of Melons who have Moxie. Not sure who will be my side, but no worries. I know that I will not be alone because I am walking for so many and I will carry them in my heart and soul.

If you have an extra moment and are able to make a donation I invite you to visit my web page by clicking on the 3 Day button on my sidebar. Interested in walking with our 'Melons with Moxie' team, please email me. Aren't able to walk with us or make a donation? Then please send positive energy and hold us in your thoughts and prayers as we train over the next few months. And know that by doing so, you are also part of something so much bigger than yourself. Thank you.

Oh, Deer !

noreply@blogger.com (Deb) — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 02:31:00 +0000

This was the view out of my window late yesterday afternoon during the snowstorm. At first I saw just one deer and I ran to get my camera. Then I noticed that there was a second deer in the distance and then deer number three made himself/herself visible and I tried to get all three together for a family portrait but they wouldn't cooperate for me. Imagine my surprise when a fourth deer meandered into view. I was wishing I had a wider lens but with or without the pictures, I am quite sure I won't forget any time soon the view outside of my window.