tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14041544368819676672024-03-13T14:20:37.891-04:00Q'VilleLuLu and J-manQ'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-21373889023979474922012-05-10T22:36:00.000-04:002012-05-10T22:36:23.027-04:00<br />
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">1
Birthday cake<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">5
friends<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<st1:time hour="6" minute="0"><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">6 am</span></st1:time><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">packing
43 lunches<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">THEN:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">90
minutes in <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">105
degrees with<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">40%
humidity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">YUP,
that’s <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">Bikram
Yoga. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">It is my honor to create memorable birthdays for my friend LaNae for the past few
years, and the next several. We’ve done
lunch with friends, spa days, up north weekends. This year was different than any of those. </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qRs5Q-jobMc/T6x1F3ec7sI/AAAAAAAAABM/zhePzzjeFvU/s1600/IMG_20120510_193629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qRs5Q-jobMc/T6x1F3ec7sI/AAAAAAAAABM/zhePzzjeFvU/s320/IMG_20120510_193629.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">I asked her to reserve the date and trust
me. SHE DID!! Having NO idea, I just gave her some
instruction; It’s gonna be a ponytail day, be awake at </span><st1:time hour="6" minute="0"><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">6am</span></st1:time><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;"> and trust me.
And SHE DID!! It would have been
a piece of cake to spread the word with 20-40 people who would have loved to
celebrate, but this was low key. This
was just 5 chicks who have what we need and enough to share. Wait, wait, wait, not JUST 5 chicks. These are outstanding women, pillars of grace
and strength. It could be mistaken as
schizophrenia, multi faceted personality: humor, compassion, faith, tenacity,
courage, perseverance and love. There
was not a silent moment during the 11 hours we were together… well, wait, there
was, and that was the greatest discomfort or challenge of the day, the 90
minutes in the yoga studio. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">Drive
in to </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">Detroit</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">: We passed out 40+ lunches to just plain
folks. We thought maybe it had been a
while since some of them had a fancy lunch packed just for them and delivered
in with a happy wish. </span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">They were all so
gracious and offered Birthday Wishes to LaNae, blessings from God and even
warnings for us to be safe on the streets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">The
price of each lunch came out to $2.51, which consisted of a hefty ham and
cheese sandwich with a gourmet dressing and lettuce, a piece of fruit, a can of
pop, a bag of chips and of course as slice of </span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">LaNae’s double chocolate, colorful birthday
cake.</span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">A napkin and fork were of course
included.</span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">The colorful ribbon and tag
from LaNae added a nice touch.</span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">I would
have gladly provided these lunches as a catering job for $8.00 each.</span><span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: green; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 14pt;">I don’t know when I will do this again, but it
felt so good to share LaNae’s birthday with this group of friends and to meet
so many new friends that we may never see again. Next time you plan a birthday celebration for
a friend or family member, what will it be?
What do you have to celebrate?
And if you ask me to be in charge, brace yourself and TRUST ME, I’ll be
making plans at LuLu’s Table. </span>LuLu's Table... QDVille and Jmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07923347626007745528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-52952327010038990462012-03-29T19:09:00.000-04:002012-03-29T19:09:24.350-04:00Express Gratitude<br />
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It’s never too late to say I’m sorry, please forgive me or
thank you. General etiquette is that
thank you notes for a wedding gift need to be sent within a year of the
wedding. Yikes, that’s a long time. You can have a baby by then, and then you
have baby gift thank you notes to get out. (And you run the risk of giftgivers thinking you ungrateful for wedding gift, and may be less-generous in baby gifts.)</div>
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We are taught to have a thankful heart, to be thankful for
all we have and show gratitude all the days of our lives. My momma taught me. I clearly remember the burial of my dad; my
dear sweet mom hobbled over to the grave digger after dropping her rose in the
ground, and thanked the grave digger!!!
For her it was natural and necessary. He provided a service for
her. For him it may have been a tad
uncomfortable, he was about to perform the final end to her husband’s earth
experience. For me it was the way my mom
did things. Today I was at that same
location, looking at the stone that bore the names STAUB Charles H. Ruth G.
One stone, as they are “Sealed for Eternity”. I was with her when she purchased that stone,
and I recall one day going to see it once placed. It had her name and date of birth and a
blank, her death date yet unknown. We
talked about the thought of that, and she was very comfortable with her
impending death. She never neglected a
thank you and rarely had anything to apologize for. Then I drove around the block to see the
Mattsons; William and Lillian. Their
stones were separate, yet side-by-side.
The ages of theirdeaths were sad to me:
he, just 40’s and she only 62.
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Gratitude welled up in my heart. I spoke quiet tender words to deity, then, I drove toward the office and with a lump in my throat, choking back tears,
went to the desk and thanked the staff for keeping my family safe. As we hear reports of cemeteries mistreating
decedents, and gravesites being desecrated, I am thankful that my parents and
grandparents are able to rest in peace.
I think they were surprised with my expression of gratitude, but paused
to ask my family name. The gentleman, though
said nothing, nodded his head, understanding my thoughts and concerns. </div>
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What if you only received today, what you gave thanks for
yesterday? What do I want to be sure I
have every day: a relationship with my Savior and membership
in His church, my loving family and my shelter.
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I am thankful for</div>
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Home </div>
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Citizenship in this great country</div>
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Heritage and posterity</div>
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Property to farm</div>
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The physical strength to farm</div>
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<o:p> </o:p>Simple acts of kindness</div>
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All things great and small</div>
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Absence of danger and threat of danger in my daily life.</div>
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I am thankful. Often
I pause during the day to express my thanks to my God. I take a moment to thank the cleaning person
in the public rest room, the bagger at the market, to compliment a lovely dress or flattering hairstyle on a stranger. </div>
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Once I cross to the other side, it will be
much more difficult to show such expressions. But for today, I am thankful for all that I have at LuLu's Table. </div>LuLu's Table... QDVille and Jmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07923347626007745528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-28717411601962128352012-02-25T22:15:00.000-05:002012-02-25T22:15:13.683-05:00THE 40 DAY CHALLENGE<br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">The personal
challenge for the next 40 days. “40” has
some significance. The Israelites
wandered in the wilderness for 40 years.
Moses was on the mount for 40 days.
Jesus fasted in the wilderness for 40 days, Noah survived 40 days and
nights of rain. I’m not “lenting”. I’m starting on Tuesday, February 28<sup>th</sup>,
and will complete my challenge on the Saturday before Easter. A friend who saw my post on FB felt inspired
and she sent me a link on an30 day challenge. ( </span><strong style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 13px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ted.com%2Ftalks%2Flang%2Fen%2Fmatt_cutts_try_something_new_for_30_days.html&h=mAQG1n1KrAQHaVbYFQMRkyK3WIpLU4faIV-CGg2YfqAQu8w" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer;" target="_blank">Matt Cutts: Try something new for 30 days | Video on TED.com</a></strong></div>
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<a href="http://www.ted.com/" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="background-color: #edeff4; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 13px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">www.ted.com</a><span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;"> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">) </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">30 days is going to come and go; will it be
meaningful to you?</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">Good thought.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;">I will watch this clip several times thru the
challenge, I’m sure.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Thinking about
what I should do, I decided to go with what I really need to do most, and what
I have put off doing consistently all my life.
I have plans. I am going to spend
1 hour a day exercising for 40 days. (I
may be able to make this a way of life, but I’m not going to state that at this
point.) I know that it isn’t wise or
healthy to do strenuous exercise every day, so I will incorporate breathing
exercises and relaxation exercises in with the plan. I have a decent collection of work out DVDs
of various types and will move the dining room set and use that hardwood floor
there as my studio. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">The Runtastic app
on my phone will post to facebook daily. Really?
Yup, really. … I think. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">The Firm has
several, and the one I like best is a work out that will “burn 500 calories in
an hour”. The leader’s name is Kelsey
and she is a wild woman. She talks the
whole time and has a really sweet voice and says things like “ok, girls, let’s
party” as the music cranks up and the 5 chicks really work it. UGH!!
Sweat, sweat, pant, pant, gasp, gasp.
But I’m not going to hate Kelsey.
That girl has sculpted arms and strong legs and could kick my trash with
a smile on her face!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Suzanne Deason has
some nice yoga presentations. I like
yoga because you sweat without pumping your heart and getting all out of
breath. It feels kind of graceful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">One yoga instructor
started us out with a breathing exercise.
If I light some fragrant candles or oils, dim the lights and put on some
nice spa-ish music, the breathing and relaxation will be a great benefit to me
on my non-work out days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Jillian Michaels
was a beast-woman on The Biggest Loser, but on her own releases, she is very
encouraging and mild. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">Hartland pool has
a good water aerobics class on Tuesdays and Thursdays at </span><st1:time hour="17" minute="0"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">5pm</span></st1:time><span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;"> with Cheryl.
I hesitate to do that in the winter months because it’s so cold coming
home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">I also have a
TOTAL GYM. J-man got sucked into an
infomercial with the Texas ranger guy and Christi Brinkley. I did actually use that for a while and the
Pilates work out was fab. It actually
did change the way by bod was shaped. It
was much more work for “easy storage” than they demonstrated on tv. That sucker is heavy, so I put it away and
didn’t pull it out again. Maybe it’s
time to find a place for it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">They say if you
work out, you can feel it in 3 weeks, the family will see it in 3 months. I wonder if there will be a physical
change. Hmmmm. Guess I should buy a dress to wear on the
weekend that I end this. If I can find
something on sale, maybe even from a re-sale shop in a size 10, that will be
part of my plan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">If you’re interested
in joining me on a 40 day challenge, let me know. We can cheer each other on, and whine to
someone who will truly understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun; mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;">I’ll be a size 10 in 42 days, so for now I need to
go clear the dining room floor and move LuLu’s table. </span>LuLu's Table... QDVille and Jmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07923347626007745528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-77132763343357672952012-02-12T22:00:00.001-05:002012-02-12T22:06:32.904-05:00SEWING<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I sewed in high school.
I had some great outfits, some were actually modified patterns/original
designs. I love fabrics and
textures. I made the dress for my
wedding reception (I wore Dawn’s for the ceremony). I sewed a few Halloween costumes for the
kids. I learned that sewing was NOT less
expensive than buying and I was busy. I started buying
and not sewing. Oh, wait, Mattson was in
scouts, so I sewed merit badges on his sash.
Then he became an Eagle Scout so I gave my sewing machine away. My mom found out that I didn’t have a sewing
machine, so one day I got a delivery.
That lady…. She said she just couldn’t imagine me not having one. I am thankful for that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course she was right.
Every grandma needs to sew for her grandchildren. (we recently acquired the treadle machine
that J-man’s Nana had used to mend their jeans). I made the dress that Nora was blessed in… the
fabric was the skirt of Kirstynn’s wedding dress. I hope another baby girl that we love can
wear it one day. I made the white pants
that Kyree wore for Matt and Alie’s wedding ceremony. I sew for my grand children. When Marley said she wants a blue princess
dress, she got the best Cinderella dress a LuLu could make. Nora
has the idea that “LuLu can make it”.
With J-man’s help, we have not yet disappointed her. Ummm,
a Tinkerbell costume, a red </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">dress…. She knows if she sends me a picture, I’ll
make it. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Everyone needs an apron, my kids have one that I made for them. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSOOVrjBMN3-3LxKc8gMpoDaihe3rPmuXkTHXOakVq_QAAWJwJIoWjEPkt3pIYw2C1voq5t07f_muf3TRKLHwH75bPkOB0kctvgFgoBlDPC5tzdkOPY8ljnMyZwnBUBskiMnvQLwL7Z8/s1600/cindalella.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSOOVrjBMN3-3LxKc8gMpoDaihe3rPmuXkTHXOakVq_QAAWJwJIoWjEPkt3pIYw2C1voq5t07f_muf3TRKLHwH75bPkOB0kctvgFgoBlDPC5tzdkOPY8ljnMyZwnBUBskiMnvQLwL7Z8/s320/cindalella.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PzNq7HsQ82MASrgCaRyFqSc10FFJ52hu58asgbegs1GrVH9A5IOg5Tj9DS5BEUZluoFZ1TTVez49vnUGXUZ_sazjRcgM-IaJusPxJvB_v0FpVqNa2dDCAt5kQRzyc0AzZBE8_W2tro0/s1600/apron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PzNq7HsQ82MASrgCaRyFqSc10FFJ52hu58asgbegs1GrVH9A5IOg5Tj9DS5BEUZluoFZ1TTVez49vnUGXUZ_sazjRcgM-IaJusPxJvB_v0FpVqNa2dDCAt5kQRzyc0AzZBE8_W2tro0/s1600/apron.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPZgc4K8VBTyTM01TpsrPfgzUx8RONqIQr-fquPvmuThWYfSyCLuonPT9n7mY4MG6D6YDlt7Wa4POXbJxZHLBLIeVhIERgyNaNDpy-ZYzhN0kZ7rQeTqHFMwjnexrCtOpX5CgEqNJfZ8/s1600/NORA+4+RED+DRESSES.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPZgc4K8VBTyTM01TpsrPfgzUx8RONqIQr-fquPvmuThWYfSyCLuonPT9n7mY4MG6D6YDlt7Wa4POXbJxZHLBLIeVhIERgyNaNDpy-ZYzhN0kZ7rQeTqHFMwjnexrCtOpX5CgEqNJfZ8/s320/NORA+4+RED+DRESSES.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I took Nora to the fabric store and started teaching her. “What do you think that fabric is for?” “A blanket”.
Good. “This is corduroy, this is
pinwale corduroy, and this is wide wale corduroy, this is seersucker, and yes,
you can have sparkle fabric, but it can be an accent, so let’s pick out the
main fabric, then the secondary, the contrasting, and finally the sparkle. Then we look for the pattern. She chose 8, I narrowed it down to 3 and she
made the final decision. Of course that
means 3 dresses, for my 3 little grandgirls.
Next time we’re in Marley’s neighborhood, she can pick out the fabrics
and pattern, and 3 more dresses will be made. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here is one of the the new dresses, it's Nora's. Marley's' will be the same, Ava's similar. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHn_eUjn_djlIhqamEzANFwoV4P2XAWRXKX2Fg3pBAcfll5uGt9g_EOIbiJypl-VXMSUuwJQg2T_O9xorfygCUnYZO17oMPiAa4sJqiAmzkacsTC2b-KiOqZ4Rf_au6Zk3dfpkdVAg_M/s1600/cupcakes+cherries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHn_eUjn_djlIhqamEzANFwoV4P2XAWRXKX2Fg3pBAcfll5uGt9g_EOIbiJypl-VXMSUuwJQg2T_O9xorfygCUnYZO17oMPiAa4sJqiAmzkacsTC2b-KiOqZ4Rf_au6Zk3dfpkdVAg_M/s320/cupcakes+cherries.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am glad that my mom sent me that sewing machine,
because I am creating some fun dresses at LuLu’s Table. </span></span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-53644756406926589122012-02-07T10:53:00.000-05:002012-02-07T10:53:05.720-05:00MY NAME IS DANA AND I’M A SPA JUNKIE<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m not really addicted; my spa-going does
not jeopardize my life (it enhances it), relationships(it prolongs them) or
livelihood (I only go if all my bills are paid), but I think I “spa” more than
many women I know. Every woman (except
those who are phobic) should go to the spa sometime, just to know that the
experience is available. Price is a factor with me (always is) and I have
learned to get the most for the least. There
are different types of spas, and I know many that are good for different
things. My favorite spa, for example,
does not do a good couples massage. I think it was a mis-thought in
construction, but I do know where to get the best couples massage. The spa near my house has a very nice steam
room for $10. The best spa pedicure is
in <st1:place>Northern Michigan</st1:place> (the room and the girls there make
it extra nice.) There is a whole
magazine about spa-going!! The top spa
in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>United States</st1:place></st1:country-region>
a few years ago was Mii Amo in <st1:place><st1:city>Sonoma</st1:city>, <st1:state>AZ.</st1:state></st1:place> Funny, that February Brenda and Don were
getting married in AZ.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">IT WAS FABULOUS! No question.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbi9zorzIjJf8nS1f_uvjMdpz_ppEpIcQwAyBs-3o4dQf_srkQQ7a4dOIQ6j-zrY11zCswzI7fxTOvK9fBCqN07bwQVJpk_ewxIQg2q00Qx3g1vrAGIL30-Ibcli6kYlh3edTWPFYk5bY/s1600/MiiAmoLibrary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbi9zorzIjJf8nS1f_uvjMdpz_ppEpIcQwAyBs-3o4dQf_srkQQ7a4dOIQ6j-zrY11zCswzI7fxTOvK9fBCqN07bwQVJpk_ewxIQg2q00Qx3g1vrAGIL30-Ibcli6kYlh3edTWPFYk5bY/s200/MiiAmoLibrary.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIF1tHnskrikS9MZDWQA7g0SZOxEgcEbWn5GJ0ALa4M5RUZ88RowxvZtYW8JCybyPx95sJ9aAkwym-K0lh8Mlz8mJrWCXI9Zf4gSsNhyAdNx93XhLBbM7c3Q6ZgpfnCaGx32EsFTmnO-Y/s1600/MiiAmoIndoorPool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIF1tHnskrikS9MZDWQA7g0SZOxEgcEbWn5GJ0ALa4M5RUZ88RowxvZtYW8JCybyPx95sJ9aAkwym-K0lh8Mlz8mJrWCXI9Zf4gSsNhyAdNx93XhLBbM7c3Q6ZgpfnCaGx32EsFTmnO-Y/s200/MiiAmoIndoorPool.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had just come
out of an exceptionally difficult year and needed a physical/emotional
experience (my spirit was flourishing).
I took a yoga class, learned to do some meditation in their grato. I took full benefit of every square foot of
that place… in door and out door pools, oh, and the massage I got was “<a href="http://youtu.be/BZp0VqWA9Gw">Watsu</a>”.
It was a life-changing experience (mostly because my life was needing to
change). I specifically relish the time
I spent journaling. I had a yellow legal
pad and took a sofa with comfy pillows in the sun and began to write and cry
and nap and cry and write. Spa
attendants checked on me and brought me a beverage, but let me feel totally
comfortable in my space. I went back a
couple years later. I was far-less pathetic,
but I loved it just the same. I will go
there again.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8MCNmRlplc7GONbqxokBYuflT-9Z4Sxv7SvnX8OLNmLQdjRFZqxAx1ArY2sYGVxAKUQwTKJvaVhJICogXLb0KQMFS_WB1kj4qcRWYq1rojSevY1rF_oczu5AFyPFKAFB1YdGmI64ts1Q/s1600/MiiAmoRoom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8MCNmRlplc7GONbqxokBYuflT-9Z4Sxv7SvnX8OLNmLQdjRFZqxAx1ArY2sYGVxAKUQwTKJvaVhJICogXLb0KQMFS_WB1kj4qcRWYq1rojSevY1rF_oczu5AFyPFKAFB1YdGmI64ts1Q/s200/MiiAmoRoom.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Spa-ing is like vacationing.
There is joy, anticipation and excitement in planning, and relief and
sweet memory long after return. When a
friend is in a near-melt-down state, I suggest a spa day. The best in <st1:state><st1:place>Michigan</st1:place></st1:state>
is Immerse at the <a href="http://www.mgmgranddetroit.com/spa/">MGM in <st1:city><st1:place>Detroit</st1:place></st1:city></a>. They really know how to do it
right. It doesn’t cost an arm and a leg
but it is worth a million bux. (I’ve
never had a million bux, but I don’t imagine it would feel much better than the
spa.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Occasionally I plan a Girls’ Day at the spa. One such day was 2 weeks ago.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipo9szNhLC9J1tOPXar_yzPz3FMYK0OmcEo-ukRwNBaD9xwZuebQxcCcphygAR9r70C1R_gZDUGS9yn7ANOm_XlLebOA5QwO523DIRfk0D7x_6-ORF-o7Iibsdy3R_c-iY9dgLXTN9geQ/s1600/IMAG0498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipo9szNhLC9J1tOPXar_yzPz3FMYK0OmcEo-ukRwNBaD9xwZuebQxcCcphygAR9r70C1R_gZDUGS9yn7ANOm_XlLebOA5QwO523DIRfk0D7x_6-ORF-o7Iibsdy3R_c-iY9dgLXTN9geQ/s200/IMAG0498.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> My sister and 15 wonderful women
arrived as early as <st1:time hour="8" minute="30">8:30</st1:time> and stayed
as late as <st1:time hour="18" minute="0">6pm</st1:time>. It was fun to jump in and out of the pool,
whirlpool, steam room, nap, lunch and just “be” and be with people I
enjoy. We’ll do it about 3 times a year
and we will be better wives, sisters and mothers for it. It is a wonderful physical experience,
appealing to all senses. The staff is
very helpful and the atmosphere is clean and calming; you know you are someone
special. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAULcxDwHsy1gghll6xTGEqeT_J5NLMwqWe1LZGL__6u1EGkg7FpylI4MoiO11e2jHuB_l6winwugFn4xytueV_ObMEuNaNKtXFISe5sq26AVeq5kXfe77N22hpKHUhg7rRFPYel6op-Y/s1600/IMAG0501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAULcxDwHsy1gghll6xTGEqeT_J5NLMwqWe1LZGL__6u1EGkg7FpylI4MoiO11e2jHuB_l6winwugFn4xytueV_ObMEuNaNKtXFISe5sq26AVeq5kXfe77N22hpKHUhg7rRFPYel6op-Y/s200/IMAG0501.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaeHPz4hmtISxKxemliXwipuVpTXQd5xkps1K-VOLH-Pdd-NSfYeb4YBCGCChWOY48L2nlFemeSQmmGAsdocOazqGfv3SwwvMpRw6LaX7hvuZFTSVpvWnwb6Mx8d8q93x1EM_25z-Rhs/s1600/IMAG0502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaeHPz4hmtISxKxemliXwipuVpTXQd5xkps1K-VOLH-Pdd-NSfYeb4YBCGCChWOY48L2nlFemeSQmmGAsdocOazqGfv3SwwvMpRw6LaX7hvuZFTSVpvWnwb6Mx8d8q93x1EM_25z-Rhs/s200/IMAG0502.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUj01WW6NItuRyd181YcIejFX3s9jb-_cwWI9pBXxgoZltqGpgvUotUgERQ06-Z8Ug03LdzHxzHXpe0us-dAvgUmTdCVUmrs5mL_btKMg8aeRc3jdS0ASgn5U1TM7S2Hla9bY4S6_19GE/s1600/IMAG0499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUj01WW6NItuRyd181YcIejFX3s9jb-_cwWI9pBXxgoZltqGpgvUotUgERQ06-Z8Ug03LdzHxzHXpe0us-dAvgUmTdCVUmrs5mL_btKMg8aeRc3jdS0ASgn5U1TM7S2Hla9bY4S6_19GE/s200/IMAG0499.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is a day a year that is particularly difficult for
me. This year I am spending it at the
spa. I have my plans all made; I’m
leaving the house at <st1:time hour="6" minute="0">6am</st1:time> to be there
when they open. I’ve the list of what
I’m packing, my services are booked and I’ve even selected what I’m ordering
for lunch. This year it is a day I am
actually looking forward to. Maybe I’ll
even take a batch homemade lemonade with me (future blog topic).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you ever need any spa advice I am happy to give it to
you. If
you don’t want to go alone, I’d love to go with you. When our last grandchild is 7 years old, I am
taking Kirstynn and Alison away for a spa vacation. I don’t know when that will be (if Miles is
the last, that will be in 7 years). I
will carefully select the destination and time of year to enhance our
experience. I have a few ideas. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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</div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But for now I’ll enjoy an occasional spa day and dream
about it while I’m sitting at LuLu’s Table. </span></span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-25008184031877534252012-01-28T10:07:00.003-05:002012-01-28T18:37:58.412-05:00New Beginnngs<p class="MsoNormal"><span ><span style="font-family: Tahoma; ">I’m going to start blogging …. Again. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It will cover my longings for my children and their families, cooking/baking, weight loss, spiritual growth/shortcomings, emotional struggles, things that bug me, people and things I adore, things I have done, hope for, remember and dream of, stuff that will be random and likely of no interest to anyone but me. I will learn how to be a better blogger and use what I learn. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It will be my vent and give additional purpose to my Sabbath mornings. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span ><span style="font-family: Tahoma; ">So I’ll start with the end. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Attending 4 funerals in the past month, makes me wonder about mine. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>They were each lovely ladies, who lived good lives and loved God. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span> Did you ever attend a funeral of a total loser? <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Someone who caused family and friends all kinds of pain and agony? <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I guess at funerals they talk about the good things we’ve done and avoid bringing up the not-so-good. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span> I think at mine they might say: <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“You never had to wonder what Dana was thinking because she just said it. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She had plenty of fun and was consistently inconsistent except when it came to her efforts to obey God’s will and love her children.” <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I hope I die before my sister. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She had my mom to herself for 4 years before I was born. I want mom to myself for a little while. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i> </i></span><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span ><span style="font-family: Tahoma; ">I hope I die like my mom. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She was busy and nothing was left undone, no words unsaid, no loose ends. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>All of her stewardships were in shape. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The friend who found her said she even had a smile on her face. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She knew we were all busy, so I don’t even feel guilty that she was there for 30 some hours alone, while the UPS man left a package at the front door and my brother and my daughter left messages on her answering machine. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>There was no sign of her even reaching for help. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Jan Shelton said “she is the best person who ever loved me”. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I feel the same way. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She was indeed, the most Christ-like. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span ><span style="font-family: Tahoma; ">I’d like to have the undertaker sew a smile on my face. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I’ve thought of how he can do the stitching; knot the suture inside the corners of my lips and run it up just above my ear and tie it off. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Wouldn’t that be great to have people take their last look at me, hopefully the way they would usually see me… smiling. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Sound freaky? <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Nawh. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I’m quite sure it could be done, I hope. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Guess I’d better let the kids know this is what I want. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Kids: <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>take note. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>:D <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Hey, I’m not asking for my finger to be pointing or my brow to be furrowed, or a winking eye or my hand on my hip; just a sweet smile. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span ><span style="font-family: Tahoma; ">If I end up bedridden, my only requests are that my kids keep my feet slothered with cream; there is plenty in my bathroom closet, (I just hate the thought of cracked old lady feet rubbing on the sheets) and soft music playing and something nice to smell, candles or fragrant plants, nice massage oil, just something calming. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <span style="font-family: Tahoma; " >But I’m alive now, so I guess I’ll do my best to live happy and love lots at LuLu’s Table</span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-67671236500366619132010-02-20T11:32:00.051-05:002010-02-20T13:57:34.037-05:00MY VERY SPECIAL DAY<span style="font-family:arial;">My February 18ths usually begin with a ringing phone, followed by my parents singing me a rousing rendition of some Happy Birthday Song. It is only appropriate that since they were the first to ever share my first Birthday moments with me, that each and every 2/18 begin with the 3 of us once again. Last year was a solo. This year a memory. I miss my mom. In the past several months people have asked what I was going to do for my 50th birthday, a significant landmark day for most who have experienced it. I had no plans, no cruise, no party, no vacation, no plastic surgery, no visit to a therapist. I wanted to just do what I wanted. No accountability to anyone but MYSELF. The week before J-man and I had shared a nice "couples massage", so unless I had a migraine on that day, massage would not be planned. Hmmm..... what shall I do?</span><br /><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">I MADE A LIST (I AM A LIST GIRL):</span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440387794350014818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZBYEYQHe7Wcgisi0OpB-wfy5XIk9eN8oO6SeRuSNJbgwBGVTzK7F_RWrrEQruMpLvxaihC5CZIDFftTTKAZK2Nvdzi5UEftWWS4P559JGEz0MnKPjbLNeuFbbgsI5cckh-65sRER5_ag/s320/BirthdayList.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:arial;">(Actually, the celebrating began Weds with lunch with Robi and Cami, who showered me with gifts, then dinner with Beth (who has a very special day of her own on 2/19), who loaded me up with a "cupcake" themed gift.) J-man presented my gift before he left for work at 5:05am. Beautiful Patricia Locke earrings. I did not wear them until... I'll tell you later. BUT: I purchased some beautiful fabric a long time ago for drapes in my dining room. This was the day I was going to get that done. You will see that picture at the end, tho i did actually complete it that morning, because it was on the list :D. My super cool and adventerous brother called from the middle east. He's a retired Army Spy (I can only say that now because he's retired), but he is doing work for the government in Afghanistan. I didn't have him on the list, but he trumps ink. He'll be 59 this year so he's got some experience and I loved hearing from him on MY </span><span style="font-family:arial;">VERY SPECIAL DAY.<br /><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:arial;">OK, so on with the list: </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I took a private swim lesson. I could swim to save my life, but I want productive laps, so this was my first of 5 lessons. I'll be doin' underwater flips by the time I'm done.</span> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440372005619386594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihZ3mt3TWB6bnsGcTZXwhDRsJi0Vdly-DGQ4pc8H_Rw8GsmvCJZHk0zfcbS9LJpkKp-VgUPh0BFF0f0t1h4h0trw11R3Cu0y-YH8LvveioWOYTgzdtS2HMEwwL0wWdeisKzAVRemUE2Gk/s200/BirthdaySwim.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-family:arial;">(I did have the coach take a full-on body shot of me OUT of the water, but I'll save that to look at on days when I think I'm lookin' good. I'm quite curvey still. ;D<br /><br />I came out of my lesson to some messages on</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> my phone: SEVERAL FB wishes, and I love that, which lasted all day long). I took my messages, a voice message</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">from Ky saying: "Yer 50!!"</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVV8HSDyXsdxL9HD0H-0W3muR_AhtCorZYN-06Ha11ce7eeRSTVckjT-__-LFv0gbBWrOPTB0pC5GASD1ul2k72XcZJau4fyuBVbW-aQbquY_TT_jXs0Gwgb1HshCNetIPZlaexx4g9hU/s1600-h/BdayWishes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440385991699889106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVV8HSDyXsdxL9HD0H-0W3muR_AhtCorZYN-06Ha11ce7eeRSTVckjT-__-LFv0gbBWrOPTB0pC5GASD1ul2k72XcZJau4fyuBVbW-aQbquY_TT_jXs0Gwgb1HshCNetIPZlaexx4g9hU/s200/BdayWishes.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Nora and Smith: Ok, I couldn't copy the audio and video part, but Nora says: "happy birthday, LuLu" and blows a kiss and gives the Princess wave. Darling.</span><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:arial;">Stopped at Meijer to pick up a few things, 3 birthday cards for friends that share MY VERY SPECIAL DAY and some chips that you will hear about later, but for now, LUNCH with friends. LaNae called me on Monday and invited me to lunch, but this is MY VERY SPECIAL DAY. I told her I would be at Applebees eating a Quesadilla Burger and Fries. I had been planning this for several weeks. So, she rallied the troops and a bunch of fun frineds met me there, to share OUR VERY SPECIAL DAY, ME and Teresa Rowe</span>: <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lHFOSbfPqR96KU9tleEA4Atpd0c3vf1Cc_BIb0CRxvCpAIo9Hs-mu7F_yAT2je2oyEhUUqPx0ySx_8-FIsudmmoylR9ybC0UX1D96NdIAz5OB5nXBAyYw2ICPxe4OAodl7V2R-FxQZA/s1600-h/BirthdayFriend+50s.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440374008702261506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2lHFOSbfPqR96KU9tleEA4Atpd0c3vf1Cc_BIb0CRxvCpAIo9Hs-mu7F_yAT2je2oyEhUUqPx0ySx_8-FIsudmmoylR9ybC0UX1D96NdIAz5OB5nXBAyYw2ICPxe4OAodl7V2R-FxQZA/s200/BirthdayFriend+50s.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:arial;">We dressed the same: Black pants, white turtle neck and black leather jackets, not to mention the ever-so obvious "THIS IS MY VERY SPECIAL DAY" SMILE. Here's the rest of the crowd that had lunch</span>: <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440376975513600498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5rOHW6jeIIleFXOCL-tuLihroWBSGbhAVhTZWh0zBtxmB1yE8FeIjNH6dgz05PB4rrOFOwE915oHIoiM69pYCwSFxKvTfEmS-MPGRT839UQCNAtidaqMZlR5VU-P7JhgikfEC5ZdV68/s200/BirthdayLunch.jpg" border="0" /></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Then just some quick stuff: </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">New shoes: I love them. I will wear them often. Black suede pumps with platforms. Kinda sexy for black suede pumps. Size 6-1/2 of course (you can refer to the previous blog posting for my shoe story). </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">PostOffice: Line too long. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Car wash.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Movie: This is where the chips come in. They say "no outside food or beverages" I think they say that so that we won't sneak liqour in and get too roudy during movies, but i stuck the chips under my shirt and got in without being frisked. Melinda and Debbie took the afternoon off too, and we saw the ever so cute Valentine's Day chick flick. It was a darling show, and still is. I think I'll watch it again on DVD when it comes out. It had something for everyone. I got a free Medium Diet Pop from my frequent watchers card, or maybe they knew it was MY VERY SPECIAL DAY. My list goes on... </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">COSTCO: Maybe that wasn't on the list, but I needed softner salt and roses and to renew membership, so I did those things.</span> </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicJ2kYO-rPR4-hRgE2yzL9ljGBRGXgFKfJZmKpbUzTSweVgpbFlbPK0ShfceDPPdwlQNv-PtxPoHNiolgGBhfakJ5W8h9A0jLpE5MdZGVtzvwaMAGSF-VR_IZ_2Rb8MOO-ey6k9HCtlN8/s1600-h/BirthdayFriend_7.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440389268457931506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicJ2kYO-rPR4-hRgE2yzL9ljGBRGXgFKfJZmKpbUzTSweVgpbFlbPK0ShfceDPPdwlQNv-PtxPoHNiolgGBhfakJ5W8h9A0jLpE5MdZGVtzvwaMAGSF-VR_IZ_2Rb8MOO-ey6k9HCtlN8/s200/BirthdayFriend_7.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Quinn was next... She was sick on her VERY SPECIAL DAY. Something I have never experienced and hope she never does again. But she is still darling, isn't she?<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvy4TN9MczjTkV1Qe24x5civ-7VJFLDb7EfbpwqVn__VGFcV1gnwUs1GGZT-w9DgaBAHlx5sKRdDhFo79du4pAW_ulnHdmBOSQr4510i9azf7FlgZ1K4uAteIgxN5abUAENq6Ln2tTEqQ/s1600-h/BirthdayFriend7.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440379703508016498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvy4TN9MczjTkV1Qe24x5civ-7VJFLDb7EfbpwqVn__VGFcV1gnwUs1GGZT-w9DgaBAHlx5sKRdDhFo79du4pAW_ulnHdmBOSQr4510i9azf7FlgZ1K4uAteIgxN5abUAENq6Ln2tTEqQ/s200/BirthdayFriend7.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div align="right">Then to Isaac's: He was happy to see me when he opened the bag full of </div><div align="right">7 treats. (He and Quinn are both 7 years old.)<br /></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div align="right">It was dark and I knew J-man was at a meeting, so I just went on home. I had more sewing to do, but did not. I just watched Survivor and had a nice quiet evening. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div>THEN FRIDAY CAME: J-man did plan a dinner party with some family and close friends. I wore beautiful earrings and broach that he gave me. We ate my favorite things with many of my favorite people in celebration of MY VERY SPECIAL DAY. (Andy and Christina, Jim and Ken were unable to make it) Steve and Melinda are sitting (hidden) on J-man's left. Del and Dawn arrived in time for dinner. We had homemade pasta, Linda brought my favorite salad, the bread was perfect, Debbie made her very yummy Heath Cheescake and Kathy reminded me thruout the night that we are now in different decades (she's still 49). I love her. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440381247928788498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79N3s0wMCekd-IiVAwCsb8qPILGdCobdUbxVV-1eknxwqYgMCWpu5ikWjki_jU4eqKFlpfVe1HA6NXkzHvVRy4J7GPKW0K-3SB_VjiB769Orb605mLLHcQzj_QhMNuCvF_ZZ_LfauNoU/s320/BdayDinner.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">It swas a fun time and yummy dinner.</span></strong><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzt7ho8S2MeFFP8AeWQl2vI1T8dIwcDQPluHtjpwZjc10d31afHPiMqT9wjjN8fxH82Kco3_K_NCSrAgqTGZKYZZQV9AVAezVnuFzpp3ogWuiaWQnktP4Ig7NmscGG0JsTMhoEXaGcXhQ/s1600-h/BirthdayGifts.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440398373746607762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzt7ho8S2MeFFP8AeWQl2vI1T8dIwcDQPluHtjpwZjc10d31afHPiMqT9wjjN8fxH82Kco3_K_NCSrAgqTGZKYZZQV9AVAezVnuFzpp3ogWuiaWQnktP4Ig7NmscGG0JsTMhoEXaGcXhQ/s200/BirthdayGifts.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div align="right">After everyone left, it was a beautiful </div><br /><div align="right">wind-down from MY VERY SPECIAL DAY. </div><br /><div align="right">I got more attention than I asked for and the </div><br /><div align="right">thoughtfulness of my family and friends was </div><br /><div align="right">beyond what I could dream of. </div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">My children live very far away and I miss them terribly every day. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">The past few years have been woven with tragedy and drama. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;">But I had MY VERY SPECIAL DAY and I'm glad to be 50.</span> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440386264105859890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5m5STyD81MNk28QUveTvHO27aXtAg8hER63R0qmd3uaIvwi26ANybZhO4zctUN_3zOOxgLSuXHHYtH6exgkCrv95iD-F4j_ET1JRjv7DGYDJ6ZkhOxDFThyjWGXVDGInzJCvzp9kECqI/s400/birthday+156.jpg" border="0" />Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-19102088301878708042010-01-28T14:55:00.018-05:002010-01-28T16:10:52.045-05:00SHOES, GLORIOUS SHOES<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMD9dB7A47DiEDG3WGFMOMZNjFbagxRXoYnBs8hSoKEQQ76ecD6MiYed8L7GL2EItxhVGRlc9lbKlCcUpmHW2FJD3giPRqRKWhFgvEH4TcdlqFA8-K6lirhKmQs6GnxXgCBX7PA729rRg/s1600-h/saddleshoes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431898235439735474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMD9dB7A47DiEDG3WGFMOMZNjFbagxRXoYnBs8hSoKEQQ76ecD6MiYed8L7GL2EItxhVGRlc9lbKlCcUpmHW2FJD3giPRqRKWhFgvEH4TcdlqFA8-K6lirhKmQs6GnxXgCBX7PA729rRg/s200/saddleshoes.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div>I love shoes. In Kindergarten my Gramma Mattson bought me 2 pair of school shoes. Saddle shoes (I hated them) and another navy that I loved.<br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div>I think part of the reason I love shoes so much is because they are loyal. I mean If my rear is a size 8, my shoes are 6-1/2 . If my rear is a 14, shoes, still 6-1/2. It's easy to buy shoes for me, not narrow, not wide, not hard to fit, no 6th toe. </div><br /><div>I learned a few years ago, (and am still incorporating this into my life) that if you find a pair of shoes that you love, buy them. Then find the outfit to go with them later. If shoes fit and look good, you're all set. Kind of like good undies. </div><br /><div>I like a bargain. I like to buy shoes on sale. J-man calls it cheap, but the hunt is worth it. I got married in a beautiful antiqued ecru lace tierd dress that I made. Lucky me, I found antiqued ecru lace shoes to go with it. They were even ON SALE. Ya know what I said as I paid the cashier the $3.12 ($2.99 plus tax)? "what is your return policy on sale shoes?" Did I really say that? They looked like they were made for the dress. I kept them. (No picture available)<br /></div><div>So many shoes are made now in China, but shoes made in Brazil and France are the best. </div><div><br />I have a pair of ankle strap amethyst satin shoes that I got to go with a special ball gown. (They weren't $2.99) I think they look kinda sexy. Dawn calls them "hooker shoes". That's a little trashy for me. I like to think of them more as "baby, take-me-home-and-I'll-do-you-right-shoes".<br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431894154360292114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP2rX1DxJoumQy43NpsZXeBMOAqXRymqZpH02LVZd_G-ITcHT7BKR5Pm-oIQtgpn79zkqdXexv_Ky6AMZKlTwkDsS1147Gzdaakhujlcpl-zJyx1caddaAA02Z9N-Hq4XIKDeTtxYRYz8/s200/BabyTakeMeHome+Shoes.jpg" border="0" /> DSW is a happy place. They have a rewards program. If you are ever there and they ask for your rewards card or number, just give them my home phone number. I'll thank you later. Well, they send coupons. I had one once, and it expired. Ratz. I hate when that happens. It's like free money. I vowed to never let one expire again. SOOO when I got another one, it was only for $10.00, but better my $10.00 than theirs, right? I walked in on expiration date, straight to the CLEARANCE ROOM, 6-1/2 rack and looked for the yellow or purple stickers (those are the ones with the best % off). Picked a pair, stuck my feet in them (of course using those not-really-hose) and knew they were mine. Proudly marched to the register, presented my coupon and the shoes and she kindly asked for FIFTY TWO CENTS. Now THATs my kind of deal. Green shoes, you'll see them below too. I wear them more often than I thought I would ever wear green shoes. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fkv_CZEVDP9aFtWNCc0Wy6wBZhrp7y6OXrvuOQE7vRKXSZWObKLY9w_-kSHHPPYMMcZ7wmA-0ZON1rN75VPeSaUKa17Sw2yx9fkhkMnyORNXpX2oNJa8fS9G1Vv1OxXfL3dIfgmRbPc/s1600-h/lulu+090.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431897393177752546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6fkv_CZEVDP9aFtWNCc0Wy6wBZhrp7y6OXrvuOQE7vRKXSZWObKLY9w_-kSHHPPYMMcZ7wmA-0ZON1rN75VPeSaUKa17Sw2yx9fkhkMnyORNXpX2oNJa8fS9G1Vv1OxXfL3dIfgmRbPc/s200/lulu+090.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Sometimes no shoes is pretty darn good too, like when you're with your sister enjoying a fresh pedicure. :D</div><br /><a href="http://www.striderite.com/shopping/product/detailmain.jsp?itemID=1571&itemType=PRODUCT&iMainCat=441&iSubCat=447&iProductID=1571&sColor=93"></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431894799728345362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2NcgqFeltQ1yXpnk49OouvNr3HwgVXkFzK2WFdDrARaM0-h2rEabh5HVXcCaXQnVuTcCoWFeREv9DmVlAFCANXRktdVz9aU_ZhFPr6_7yG5mtbX1rHRpcfc4TqcjULl8_48A9XXLMQA/s200/lulu+091.jpg" border="0" /> Make sure your shoes are comfey and smart. Check out the sales. Dress from the ground up. Find a good cobbler (that's old talk for shoe rapairman). If he's old with a couple warts and speaks broken English, he will be best, I think. Yes, I guess I am sterotyping. Get fresh heel plates so you don't go "click-click-click" when walking on tile. Clean them up nicely, tops and bottoms, in and outs.<br /><div><br />If anyone thinks shoes never changed a girl's life never med Dorothy or Cinderella. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431898017447347410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 126px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 94px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dbQNh2yAkYL_CpZwAH0PfN6eE_AcacgkuwYSaeS6FBxINTBeSP5T5Gb_1rgCHUcFJpPwlOIONMmov3JBtdaHnwXMw7p3NCln2uYEccFNR84Wspd7ELsgBP6zNhXr_g9bLy2KUxBeyyY/s200/Cinderella.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-53498077365280753682010-01-22T13:54:00.007-05:002010-01-22T14:18:03.571-05:00Lillian Ingabourg Jaakkola Mattson<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqIfo6V-2D34p75waR98DZOMXFGq5hlo1v_eYou290-wUEWJdR7I4YtYaoaCMyFHGLk55_e3gU5Om13ayXU8GL-otZgcpPVaVyxtqzNFVSyQWg3ioUTYX0mKyBoUWuBpzsuJazk2fELQ/s1600-h/Dana+n+gma+matt+68.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429644348928947650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqIfo6V-2D34p75waR98DZOMXFGq5hlo1v_eYou290-wUEWJdR7I4YtYaoaCMyFHGLk55_e3gU5Om13ayXU8GL-otZgcpPVaVyxtqzNFVSyQWg3ioUTYX0mKyBoUWuBpzsuJazk2fELQ/s320/Dana+n+gma+matt+68.jpg" border="0" /></a> That's a lotta long names for my </div><div>"Gramma Matt". </div><div><div><div></div><br /><div>I love her. </div><div></div><br /><div>She took me to Mackinac Island <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsqccQE2GL97GVkxwCa0QA5y8fVNWFRCEtZtdCp5dPBLuOgMUDV1tEuiWySNHnrYQN0Hd6D9C0uRxZHa8yzfo9l4vIeMYf8IxBIwEe-fQgvGO_lx10BffHXIBkiSwQTIPFVsIF1sf-wV4/s1600-h/Mackniw+island.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429643494134706050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 109px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 78px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsqccQE2GL97GVkxwCa0QA5y8fVNWFRCEtZtdCp5dPBLuOgMUDV1tEuiWySNHnrYQN0Hd6D9C0uRxZHa8yzfo9l4vIeMYf8IxBIwEe-fQgvGO_lx10BffHXIBkiSwQTIPFVsIF1sf-wV4/s200/Mackniw+island.jpg" border="0" /></a>the summer I was 8. Here we are.... Great tennies, eh? and... Hey, Gramma, I love that hand bag. (Really, I do. I wish it was still around, I'd use it and be happy about it.)</div><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>If I'd had more kids I'd have named them Lilli and Jakk or Jaak. (not typo-s, pronounced yakolla, a Fin from the UP.) Guess I got the double consonent thing goin', nn, tt. </div><div></div><br /><div>She was widowed in her early 30's with only 1 child, an adolescnet daughter (my mom), so when we grandkids came along, she was luuuuuvin' us up. She loved my dad too. She never re-married. That's a long time to be not married. I admire her for her integrity. She had that. </div><br /><div></div><div>She died when I was only 10, but in those 10 years we got to know eachother quite well, and I don't feel jipped at all by losing her so young. </div><div></div><br /><div>I think my mom looks much like her, and I like my mom. I miss them both. They were both fabulous Grammas. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWDFp_UllOx8DePA0xR-Xk7Yyjc0Ntk-TkbV8ISfajuXkfoLwpMMuUboSZV8zZA0jMta07VcQx-svQARLtWC2_fCVZUeBlx0Gjk5tIoUFHIZ5vgt7jZS1Hxw_mbh86s4lspV_7En3PFw/s1600-h/MeNMom.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429644893165461954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 197px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWDFp_UllOx8DePA0xR-Xk7Yyjc0Ntk-TkbV8ISfajuXkfoLwpMMuUboSZV8zZA0jMta07VcQx-svQARLtWC2_fCVZUeBlx0Gjk5tIoUFHIZ5vgt7jZS1Hxw_mbh86s4lspV_7En3PFw/s320/MeNMom.jpg" border="0" /></a>I'll see them again one day. </div></div></div>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-91335007154638616402010-01-19T21:10:00.009-05:002010-01-19T22:19:42.002-05:00Ok, it’s Tuesday at LuLu’s and I’m all alone.<span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#660000;">Two years ago “Olivia” told me there are 3 children around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yep, guess I don’t hide them well… that’s a good thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And they make me sooo happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Now there are 4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But they are NOT at LuLu’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That makes me … uhmmmm, ok, I’ll say it, as selfish as it sounds… so sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><br /></span></span><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428640193304346866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpZnIZwTcsV8bJGZ3TENHe3KyMqk1PbfRBnWMHXdQnDnK4FMtgMDxaR9uCX-guZKzwI3fUaWd3XKAUvNetHmNrKFDwkhyphenhyphenVH93OEWhb-jcxB0-wpUCORf8X8NaOabDWcGwfHQLMaZQYZQ/s200/Tink.jpg" border="0" /></span> <span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;">When the Evans’ moved that was a change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBmdBx_L5HZQxQx_E8SBCg1OAzh7DWXDi6WnjlRohgd3zC9fvMD1eh2s_mcDe4aavQrzjobzl9DsPQZvVkbUm3b3EvxgQdEFlncV-xApaPzrz_4QgtJd7CtxeqXIlcRn9WTG36Md90xws/s1600-h/smith.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428640935491118594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBmdBx_L5HZQxQx_E8SBCg1OAzh7DWXDi6WnjlRohgd3zC9fvMD1eh2s_mcDe4aavQrzjobzl9DsPQZvVkbUm3b3EvxgQdEFlncV-xApaPzrz_4QgtJd7CtxeqXIlcRn9WTG36Md90xws/s200/smith.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></span></span><br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;">The timing was less painful, because about </span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;">that time Marley started fearing me less… </span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;">maybe even “liking” me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If it was all and only </span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;">about LuLu, that would be great, but I love </span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#660000;">each of those kids, for any duration, combination </span><span style="color:#660000;">and location, as long and as much as they will </span><span style="color:#660000;">let me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I saw Nora every day.. she was a great </span></span><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;">neighbor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I miss her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#660000;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" align="right"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#660000;">And now that I have met Smith, I miss him too.</span></span></p></div><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#660000;">TUESDAY THE WAY IT USED TO BE: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Ky and Marley would arrive anywhere between <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:time minute="30" hour="17">5:30</st1:time> and <st1:time minute="30" hour="18">6:30pm</st1:time>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Dinner, usually Mac N Cheese, Mickey shaped chicken nuggets, chocolate milk, and/or what ever the heck else they wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They were at LuLu’s and they knew it was all about THEM!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Guess we all felt like “it’s all about ME!!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>and I think we’re right.</span><br /><br /></span></span><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">If there was something that HAD to be done, here were my choices:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>DON’T, or make it fun enough for Ky and Marley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If we were in the middle of doing one thing and an idea popped into Ky’s head, we’d stop, drop and shift.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"></span></span></span></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5m_1AR_GCoh83F1moFsSzCRkm8qN5EsTJSu91MBkBxO8PcZVCIy57v0kQ-B8spz1-a6qih9CipFdJJu7uBT1O_ocHqvS7TMnVQaGnhQZ475OkBgxzvBuHQQQGO6bHL8CwMulN_Y-eL6I/s1600-h/cookie+ky.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428649083823144210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5m_1AR_GCoh83F1moFsSzCRkm8qN5EsTJSu91MBkBxO8PcZVCIy57v0kQ-B8spz1-a6qih9CipFdJJu7uBT1O_ocHqvS7TMnVQaGnhQZ475OkBgxzvBuHQQQGO6bHL8CwMulN_Y-eL6I/s200/cookie+ky.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></div><br /><div><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">If Marley wanted to (and she usually did want to) </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP11jbb0xP0iXk9hnD4puiVrbTsLvuwDA4nxiMIU95KCNHn7nBfCIfQY3cZ9KR6W87bTHf2Lg1kT9KbJtREF3TV71rl5aOKa-tmUdo55-2MrJzSR5fNZekv1lgF25TPhun7LDCTy1lp1M/s1600-h/Mar+Pink+Hat.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428654470125814018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP11jbb0xP0iXk9hnD4puiVrbTsLvuwDA4nxiMIU95KCNHn7nBfCIfQY3cZ9KR6W87bTHf2Lg1kT9KbJtREF3TV71rl5aOKa-tmUdo55-2MrJzSR5fNZekv1lgF25TPhun7LDCTy1lp1M/s200/Mar+Pink+Hat.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></span></span></div><div><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">watch Dora, of course Dora went on the DVD player.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></span><br /></div><div><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">A hat usually came in to play with Marley.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We are alike </span></span><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">that way: we love hats, and I think I am not lying </span></span><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;">when</span></span><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> I say we love each other. </span></span><br /></span></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"></span></span></p><div><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Ky and I would do our thing in the TV room, or we’d run back and forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Papa would arrive about <st1:time minute="20" hour="8">8:20</st1:time> with Slurpees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One night he was running late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hadn’t noticed, but the Slurpee alarm was sounding in Ky’s tummy or brain, or where ever the Slurpees hit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Where’s Papa?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Why’s he so late?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>TaDah!!! The sound of the garage door </span></span></span></div><div><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">sent us all into a giddy, screechy, Slurpee dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Up the stairs he’d appear, Ky was the first to take his part of Papa’s load.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mar toddled over with hands out (kind-a Frankenstein-esque style), grabbed the goods and gave the obligatory hug and cheek lend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Goofey, how Slurpees are even treats in December.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Parents would arrive and bring us all back to reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Jammies, prayer and a ride home to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></span></div><div> </div><div><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Ma</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">ny things they would say, do, put on, would be enough to make me laugh all week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Actually, I still laugh about things they did several weeks ago, and even longer ago. </span></span></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#660000;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Today at LuLu’s, fun?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#660000;">Memories of Tuesday’s at LuLu’s?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1"></span>PRICELESS</span></div></div></div></div></div></div>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-48376405882449904082009-05-11T07:49:00.044-04:002009-05-14T15:41:51.977-04:00Drops of KindnessI haven't seen anyone else blog about this, so I'm taking it on.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>In celebration/commemoration of the organization of the Relief Society, the Brighton Ward had a family day where we ran around the community sharing </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>"Drops of Kindness". </strong></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334539628971693698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SY2U-5USl5EEyM7w6FvChyyeVCRR4rO9aJ3DZOFpwSclBnIpZRzHRUD7mGdmTdhns__1vn6IRGVM6aueKmP0fK0QqFcdoDf4Yt8WWUBHgomqhaMMFRLHvBzkPTZlqpxCS5UCt9hMB0Q/s200/DropsSign.JPG" border="0" /> I believe it was the Brainchild of The ever-so-fabulous (and often-so-humble) Wesley Casper and Polly Mallory. Here's how it went:<br /><br /><div>Calling all families: Meet at the church at 9:00.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdGqYD-l_l2d3ZLrhw5MVEFRr4vUIM67H3FKCCtEuSWtiPL1PmI8xwWLYsAjcZH1lkzZCKTPvGEwOxe65czy3KOUM75XeRHC6hH8dVbjqkXOYphS6Br49Z2fZ5jNd6dqN9Q1U9gQSxhI/s1600-h/Seth+Cook+Fueling+up.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334540442306129074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdGqYD-l_l2d3ZLrhw5MVEFRr4vUIM67H3FKCCtEuSWtiPL1PmI8xwWLYsAjcZH1lkzZCKTPvGEwOxe65czy3KOUM75XeRHC6hH8dVbjqkXOYphS6Br49Z2fZ5jNd6dqN9Q1U9gQSxhI/s200/Seth+Cook+Fueling+up.JPG" border="0" /></a>(Be sure to bring your rakes, shovels, gloves and smiles.) Get fueled-up with a yummy pancake breakfast.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5EGcW9vt3x268pOGIpMaFEN1YiyAfEBrCL4SgPg1gdbrheWAlinhbUaB4Kd_1aewMZG3vxFVtQv2giFyO71jJ9HWB82RMUeIRRl8q7FGEAkTPfyWcRVlCq3gSI52ulbzh4ybsSL2ciE/s1600-h/GatheringTools.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335129467010195362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 138px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ5EGcW9vt3x268pOGIpMaFEN1YiyAfEBrCL4SgPg1gdbrheWAlinhbUaB4Kd_1aewMZG3vxFVtQv2giFyO71jJ9HWB82RMUeIRRl8q7FGEAkTPfyWcRVlCq3gSI52ulbzh4ybsSL2ciE/s200/GatheringTools.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjUS2dwY-ycPlsiiwMqFXkt6XPZ2Ha6ID-qJViN7RtyVPC5zx3Pu7r2DUAJFmlU3RTtQ0WggMI2wnx_mKYXhj6SXkYgRUKeFl5EUv01AxBT1qkQVJYl_MePorBjkZm1g8Wl6R5fskeDKo/s1600-h/EquipReady2Work.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334545166215254002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 171px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjUS2dwY-ycPlsiiwMqFXkt6XPZ2Ha6ID-qJViN7RtyVPC5zx3Pu7r2DUAJFmlU3RTtQ0WggMI2wnx_mKYXhj6SXkYgRUKeFl5EUv01AxBT1qkQVJYl_MePorBjkZm1g8Wl6R5fskeDKo/s200/EquipReady2Work.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div>Get your assignment. (Calls were made earlier to find out where help was needed.) Assignments were based on the need of the "dropee" and the ages and number of people in the family.<br />Go-Go-Go. Be kind!!!</div><br /><div>J-man and I were asked in advance to be the photographers, to follow everybody around and photograph what was going on. I got to use Wesley's really fancy camera. (The pix posted are from my not-so-fancy one tho.)<br /></div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUBLFnEie2YNc3Rpe1HeEaLDHb0rn7Hr8UV1OgEVx9dFNrSxFhnLrv4lA2oxMEAnwG4JvhKlewZs3k3GF-JsOh-SGgukcaSmxQEJ0TrzRjsriQbm_xaiWjnN5knhC42WLYpn3gENJO7Q/s1600-h/CareKitsMichelleSaraMallorys.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334758491159940370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUBLFnEie2YNc3Rpe1HeEaLDHb0rn7Hr8UV1OgEVx9dFNrSxFhnLrv4lA2oxMEAnwG4JvhKlewZs3k3GF-JsOh-SGgukcaSmxQEJ0TrzRjsriQbm_xaiWjnN5knhC42WLYpn3gENJO7Q/s200/CareKitsMichelleSaraMallorys.JPG" border="0" /></a>Care kits were assembled for the children at the shelter. There was some sort of project for everyone to work on, outside, inside, with other people, solo. Just to show that anyone, everyone can drop kindness around them. I think of the Primary song: I want to be kind to everyone, for that is right, you see. So I say to myself, remember this, "kindness begins with me."<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhconQ5eugN-xbOfHke6_cdDai81_yBl3AtXWkYkJ8Wg2nyu5yGLHHSg5pwL6knE7aL3TeFr2aOsgbOf2til-b_2DM7BokBd0Ua_E0VdqavUoL56ejip4K2h-6suU4mhCTyB1FGVqfHZ4/s1600-h/Pam&KentOnTheWay.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334764907540898050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhconQ5eugN-xbOfHke6_cdDai81_yBl3AtXWkYkJ8Wg2nyu5yGLHHSg5pwL6knE7aL3TeFr2aOsgbOf2til-b_2DM7BokBd0Ua_E0VdqavUoL56ejip4K2h-6suU4mhCTyB1FGVqfHZ4/s200/Pam&KentOnTheWay.JPG" border="0" /></a>Pam and Kent Aeschliman are heading down to Pinckney to spread their kindness. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Potted flowers were dropped off at random locations.<br /></div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>Wes also gave us a boat-load of change to spend. Woo-Hoo!!! Taco Bell here we come!!! Oops, not a good idea. </div><div></div><div>BUT:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5nScLHpYZp_yJ3JM8Wu4gZBrfTq8oExF8R29QJMbbbHm5JS6-ERus-5P5z_pwP9_e6LnbOFgJEvIu2wlRRfvJqaExJ6FVLdGgR-FcTkBaRCkjMKJO-PNzv6Sm4kGkacYgKSgSCyWzLDg/s1600-h/HospVendingDana.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334564690294404034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5nScLHpYZp_yJ3JM8Wu4gZBrfTq8oExF8R29QJMbbbHm5JS6-ERus-5P5z_pwP9_e6LnbOFgJEvIu2wlRRfvJqaExJ6FVLdGgR-FcTkBaRCkjMKJO-PNzv6Sm4kGkacYgKSgSCyWzLDg/s200/HospVendingDana.JPG" border="0" /></a> Pre-paying in the vending machines in the hospital waiting room, coins in the laundramat, pre-pay the car wash. (Ya know, the quarter car washes require 7 quarters now!!!) I wanted to buy some instant winner lotto tickets, but J-man shot that idea down. </div><div></div><div><br />Challenger Elementary:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2dGFMGzPg2lo43RvjH-u0UpeLQOf-mKK6r8SZUuCO4gH5kDpiCL6ke2SOd9GnbQS7fGBt7N5OvfkZaiz_Q_wgm4w76ZUyuk-fH1N3SfVYujLQ-uhgmroAlT0YAkUb2XPaIA0a_L-YaE/s1600-h/ChallengerLighthallSmithHogge.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334543544037657362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 138px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2dGFMGzPg2lo43RvjH-u0UpeLQOf-mKK6r8SZUuCO4gH5kDpiCL6ke2SOd9GnbQS7fGBt7N5OvfkZaiz_Q_wgm4w76ZUyuk-fH1N3SfVYujLQ-uhgmroAlT0YAkUb2XPaIA0a_L-YaE/s200/ChallengerLighthallSmithHogge.JPG" border="0" /></a>There were families with kids. Parents <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiHJqYgwS_iFe8JedsdozosUtu36RcqDJXYiLz1wgEiYe_2ztwAIb1eCsv1ZjxXdE5uuaB8-LR7-HlGbqIOyZ-4pp1rUW7apkaI7WZ-pa0l6xb1FPu56Kfqw1GcVmb7WI5KHg2Dcby0n0/s1600-h/ChallengerLighthallMullerHogge.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334866300559008690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 118px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiHJqYgwS_iFe8JedsdozosUtu36RcqDJXYiLz1wgEiYe_2ztwAIb1eCsv1ZjxXdE5uuaB8-LR7-HlGbqIOyZ-4pp1rUW7apkaI7WZ-pa0l6xb1FPu56Kfqw1GcVmb7WI5KHg2Dcby0n0/s200/ChallengerLighthallMullerHogge.JPG" border="0" /></a>worked, kids worked. This job was to shovel pea gravel onto the playground. Much had spilled off into the parking lot. Good thing there were lots of folks, 'cause that's a lots-a pea gravel.<br /></div><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0AIuXjNUkqixfqC7AO6hqdEr9_EdsuokhLc7M5L-fxBd1l8Nu9mzioUle-FKbhxZVEYUy2DfcrpbaLcUbn0mGyk3JXv3NEk2HIO1rKur4ioyv61st9Tdw1qo7wkMga_jerFsS2YftU3Q/s1600-h/RobinsonsOperaHouse.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334566801976535330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 122px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0AIuXjNUkqixfqC7AO6hqdEr9_EdsuokhLc7M5L-fxBd1l8Nu9mzioUle-FKbhxZVEYUy2DfcrpbaLcUbn0mGyk3JXv3NEk2HIO1rKur4ioyv61st9Tdw1qo7wkMga_jerFsS2YftU3Q/s200/RobinsonsOperaHouse.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div>Opera House: They got a scrubbing, sweeping, spit shine thru and thru. I think they must have been singing as they worked, 'cause they sure did look happy.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9FffEfTYHYI3Y5KYcxJ6UWJM5iiun4apNpxtCt6ZjMAnhl-j14f1KITfnuKyJSqws9CC5Ns5fIsOZxKay1z-3TmvCGPSE5FTuzDwMLS2Q06KkJVtO7eZIZ66ijJu9Nz_2aky7QqvTV4/s1600-h/JonesOperaHouse.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334762251734752194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9FffEfTYHYI3Y5KYcxJ6UWJM5iiun4apNpxtCt6ZjMAnhl-j14f1KITfnuKyJSqws9CC5Ns5fIsOZxKay1z-3TmvCGPSE5FTuzDwMLS2Q06KkJVtO7eZIZ66ijJu9Nz_2aky7QqvTV4/s200/JonesOperaHouse.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Gleaner's Food Bank: </div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7K9i2aeDhgZ7MTyEXrT-1FvMwjIJpCvNvPB_2BYg489MiMEO3yDr0nsYr-vU9Nj0a9gNSeOZCli4z5UQim05RHWjS9huoycfZRPHH5UZFuCDZhyWjI2MPh5Ilzp0zJ7iL8VeukHw3nAw/s1600-h/GleanersOrtons.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334769442771840354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 153px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7K9i2aeDhgZ7MTyEXrT-1FvMwjIJpCvNvPB_2BYg489MiMEO3yDr0nsYr-vU9Nj0a9gNSeOZCli4z5UQim05RHWjS9huoycfZRPHH5UZFuCDZhyWjI2MPh5Ilzp0zJ7iL8VeukHw3nAw/s200/GleanersOrtons.JPG" border="0" /></a>Sorting bags, packing eggs. They were very thankful for the help. Another group from a local church were there also. Nice to have brotherhood in "kindness".<br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsVsV21BkpgC5GTAM8EU-hf843zkWrZfFfanzWm74wM47QPUKZzaT_mo0F_FiymlY6yqExY5Vx3GmaErx7vKGrb28uvHmzfem-rFnS1UM1NHztyVVf52ls9FIl9FqAGOEEvWkJLqu0D2U/s1600-h/YardLaukkaWoodruff.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334567978488123042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsVsV21BkpgC5GTAM8EU-hf843zkWrZfFfanzWm74wM47QPUKZzaT_mo0F_FiymlY6yqExY5Vx3GmaErx7vKGrb28uvHmzfem-rFnS1UM1NHztyVVf52ls9FIl9FqAGOEEvWkJLqu0D2U/s200/YardLaukkaWoodruff.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div>A house on the lake: The homeowner wasn't there, so work got started and carried on. The neighbors came out to see what was going on and expressed their delight.<br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>A house on Spencer Road: </div><div>This homeowner was out with her gloves on. She was thrilled to <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLXgOkn5FNTI1Fd0MFbHn8b72C5Wi9pr30IGy44fzo22yHHadMVEuVxL690BP5PsqMbVkbpsuywCCkk4oKzJULLCjfqGbWATYfRrz3rkzYtoFdq6A7uBES-rlrCYP4lb1eBPSPNeBuPM/s1600-h/YardNickNLeaves.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334759156827324530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLXgOkn5FNTI1Fd0MFbHn8b72C5Wi9pr30IGy44fzo22yHHadMVEuVxL690BP5PsqMbVkbpsuywCCkk4oKzJULLCjfqGbWATYfRrz3rkzYtoFdq6A7uBES-rlrCYP4lb1eBPSPNeBuPM/s200/YardNickNLeaves.JPG" border="0" /></a>have help. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOGJW-_IAl765TDj89CA3zYwDUJUulfQRtheKoqXP8_kzy7xzt5kAyrz05GPkmzTy2npvsgeb-SfTS2_Iuod8XEVu9QrkH2wA2S6PYl_QKV2r_CzdnO72QO1eW3LJ-tlMoaiSsy8Yl9o/s1600-h/Rakin"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334768045951228098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOGJW-_IAl765TDj89CA3zYwDUJUulfQRtheKoqXP8_kzy7xzt5kAyrz05GPkmzTy2npvsgeb-SfTS2_Iuod8XEVu9QrkH2wA2S6PYl_QKV2r_CzdnO72QO1eW3LJ-tlMoaiSsy8Yl9o/s200/Rakin'Rockin'O.JPG" border="0" /></a>She wasn't looking for a free ride, just a bunch of happy families to help get the job done. There was a lot of work to do, and do, they did. They took a moment to do a little rockin' after their rakin' O-style. Bags were donated by the City of Brighton. It was made known in the community that kindness was being dropped on Livingston County. </div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEJ2EoeE_PiDw5KYKJ803EPYPbfxPub6fXAaBzhcVoWpz54-cixAkGQs8ysj8LOlOVQg_uhAOwckCkDiv1vRl54Wn9AY32CBnmX1WecwTs2YGyNeWxz8T4NDlK3YLwxHaZ_Et52gVjnM/s1600-h/NewFriendsCAx2Survive!.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334756605643548578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEJ2EoeE_PiDw5KYKJ803EPYPbfxPub6fXAaBzhcVoWpz54-cixAkGQs8ysj8LOlOVQg_uhAOwckCkDiv1vRl54Wn9AY32CBnmX1WecwTs2YGyNeWxz8T4NDlK3YLwxHaZ_Et52gVjnM/s200/NewFriendsCAx2Survive!.JPG" border="0" /></a> A new friend found: This sweet lady is a 2 time cancer survivor. Hmmmm, how did Wesley know to have Theresa Rowe go to her house to help? (Theresa is a 2 time survivor too.)<br /></div><div></div><div>By noon we stopped for lunch, and hoped everyone else had a great time too. </div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#006600;"><strong>Now, go be kind today.</strong></span> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-69985953721908603362009-05-11T07:38:00.003-04:002009-05-11T07:45:41.728-04:00The Last of the 25<span style="font-family:verdana;">23: I'm "Urgency Addicted" That means I work best under a deadline. For example: no force, seen or unseen "makes" me update my blog. In running my business, my clients are my force. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">24: I like white. Underwear, kitchen, dining and bathroom linens and toilet paper must be WHITE. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">25: hmmm... shux I thought I had this one figgered out. Gimme another 2 days. Oh, yes, I remember!!! Mabeline is my mascara, always, for years. I've tried others, Revlon, Mary Kay (every time they have a "new" formula), Estee Lauder. No thanks: Mabeline is the one for me!!</span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-69015911728824185662009-04-19T13:30:00.021-04:002009-05-13T11:43:01.810-04:00Endurence<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span>, maybe I'm a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">tuff</span> old broad, well, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ok</span>, I AM, but actually, I don't think I've <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">changed</span> so much in the past 30 years.<br /><br />Are you above grief? Do you feel like you don't "deserve" trials? Do you get "mad at God" when crap happens in your life? Mad at GOD? What the heck is that all about?????<br /><br />OK, a discussion at church today was about enduring. We all need to endure. What we endure depends on what we're given. When crap happens, do you say "Why me?" Buck-up girls. Why NOT you? Why not Me? Because we pray daily for strength, peace and happy children? Because we welcome new neighbors with fresh-baked cookies? Because we have killer hand-outs for a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Sunday school</span> lesson?<br /><br />I came to know in my late teens that I was given trials to prepare me for more to come. In my 20's I figured "this is the tragedy I've been groomed for." and I pulled myself up and sparkled-up the life I was in. In my 30's it was "oh, I guess that last trial helped prepare me for this one. Did I really agree to this?" Go figure. Then another tragedy. I remember J-man and I walking the halls of a hospital KNOWING that something good would come from this, that there was something to learn. DONE. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Heckey</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">naw</span>!! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ok</span>, would you rather have a brick house fall on you? You never see it coming, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">BAM</span>! OR, would you want see the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">mountain</span> crack and the avalanche start rolling your way? We can't even chose that. What we can chose is, when crap happens, do we kneel to plead for help, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">comfort</span> and understanding? OR do we get mad at God? I want to be on HIS side!!<br /><br />I'll just say "thanks for knowing me, loving me, sending your Son to bear the burden; thanks for comforting me when I am able to be still enough to feel it, thanks for strong lungs that can breath in and out when day to day seems too far away; thanks for gently guiding me when I cannot know which way to go. Thanks for the trials? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Hmmm</span>, not really, but "thanks" for the ability to grow closer through the trials, and for having confidence in me, after all, I AM one of the ninety and nine.Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-72808670572946406262009-04-12T19:59:00.013-04:002009-04-12T21:00:17.959-04:00Easter.<span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;">Is it different from other Sundays? Is the Lord present in my life every day? Do I daily have an awareness of His atonement and resurrection? Is Good Friday more sacred? Is Easter Sunday more reverenced than any other of the 51 Sabbath days in the year? I guess that is a personal decision. Maybe it is sometimes a new <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">beginning</span> for people who would not usually attend services for any reason, and whatever it takes to bring someone to Christ for regular gospel living? That's a good thing. There was some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fuss</span> about the Tiger's home opening game being on Good Friday? Hey, wait, don't they play ball on Sundays? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Hmmm</span>. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#33cc00;">Each Sunday during our Sacrament, I read and re-read the words to the hymns; hymns of atonement, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">resurrection</span>, forgiveness, redemption, and resurrection. "I Stand All Amazed" is my all-time favorite. I can still hear my grandma Matt singing it, and it tickles my heart. For that reason, I have read those words probably more than any other sacrament hymn. "...That He should extent His great love unto such as I, sufficient to own, to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">redeem</span> and to justify" those are the words I have had ringing in my brain today. He love me. How much? "sufficiently". That's a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">lotta</span> love; enough to redeem ME, enough to own ME, enough to justify ME. am more than just one of the sands of the sea, I am one of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ninety</span> and nine. </span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-9898742275742327002009-03-22T20:52:00.016-04:002009-03-22T21:45:33.629-04:00Cinnamon Anyone?<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTEujGM8wdlbd7QMcYpHxqNVuQYRXY9oDIi2W-nLUd4lRysJha2CEiME1oNm7RkH7QzzeKPR4GlL5WgHlQjIzb1pVTfE5T6nMVA4iP4R4qoNkDqbIuoxNZOHPaNBkZjn_bi4JoyoE3CA/s1600-h/S5031142.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316190985113138690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTEujGM8wdlbd7QMcYpHxqNVuQYRXY9oDIi2W-nLUd4lRysJha2CEiME1oNm7RkH7QzzeKPR4GlL5WgHlQjIzb1pVTfE5T6nMVA4iP4R4qoNkDqbIuoxNZOHPaNBkZjn_bi4JoyoE3CA/s200/S5031142.JPG" border="0" /></a>I'm always working on my home storage. Ya know, with all that wheat and honey, we're gonna need some flavoring. Recently I was in the Mexican area of Detroit. There are some great eateries there and little markets. I always like going to little markets in out of the way places. Recently when Jerome and I were in Chicago we went to Devon street. Any Indian who has ever lived in or visited the US knows about Devon Street. We did some fun shopping while there, but this isn't about Devon Street. It's about cinnamon. Well, while in the shadow of the Ambassador Bridge, I bought 5 pounds of cinnamon. That's a LOT of cinnamon. I think I have enough for the entire community for a very long time. I like the sticks. Not the tough little ones that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Durkee</span> put in a little bottle and sell for $4.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">oo</span>. The long thin, multi layered ones that usually are cut down into 4-6 inch sticks and sold in 4 oz packages. But I wanted them uncut. That's about 25 inches long. How do you say "I want the cinnamon, uncut.... about 5 lbs" in Spanish? Well, we got it figured out. I got a bundle and spent about $30.00 for a lifetime supply of cinnamon for ..... like I said, a LOT of people.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuI5MGmZl1u1vkgUmaK-XL_bAuGPl46yd4ntS-f0ieIR5ETwoN9OcZhGSHPWMaLCnp8axKsgSwQqbKw7vvqGHB9TMfekOhWtNE7pyaCB9Gv0UkcfbxD4Qdb9IDNdT4KhmlL-Jqp9bPLhY/s1600-h/S5031132.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316189067395185378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuI5MGmZl1u1vkgUmaK-XL_bAuGPl46yd4ntS-f0ieIR5ETwoN9OcZhGSHPWMaLCnp8axKsgSwQqbKw7vvqGHB9TMfekOhWtNE7pyaCB9Gv0UkcfbxD4Qdb9IDNdT4KhmlL-Jqp9bPLhY/s200/S5031132.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Then to process it. Not all of it, just some, but then to store the rest of it. Can't get wet or dusty. Vacuum sealed. Some ground.. by hand, (can you say Micro plane? A MUST HAVE. Robbi Schneider told me to get one, and I think of her every time I use mine.) and some by electric coffee grinder. Yes, this non-coffee drinker has a coffee grinder for.. grinding cinnamon!!!</p><div align="right"></div><br /><div align="right"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316192011610218978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2f3524Vb4Kmx7lystTWSZ-jTt_0DCe-v3pikMl22iPe_evca0HPxbD4fRSQ_T1NA7VZ8R6ncTCjkOScJ9g7-VxAarHr9sg9Rc1gy3JlxU0B57PjpbKcopcBdyP5D8x9d1ErAy0kEATW0/s200/S5031147.JPG" border="0" /> <div align="right"></div><div align="right">It is nice, also to take a piece and just suck or chew on it. I'm not sure where this stuff was grown, but I love it. I'll make an attempt to post picture of it. If it doesn't work now, I'll have my "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">blogsupport</span> staff" help out in the next day or two."<br /><br />Cinnamon anyone? </div>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-60142618287418066982009-02-24T06:17:00.006-05:002009-02-25T12:18:12.293-05:00Now I only need 3 more Random ThingsThis is not as easy as I thought it would be:<br /><br />10) Jerome is not my first husband. He's the longest, so I guess It's easy to forget the first.<br /><br /><br /><br />11) I eat plain low-fat yogurt every <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">morning</span> for breakfast.<br /><br /><br /><br />12) I'm not going to eat a single <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">puncze</span> today.<br /><br /><br /><br />13) I danced <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Bollywood</span> style in my hotel room alone in India. They had 2 American TV show stations and a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">g'zillion</span> MTV type stations.<br /><br /><br /><br />14) Last time I wore my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">saree</span> I put it on backwards, and didn't know it. A darling <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">teenaged</span> hostess at the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">restaurant</span> told me as i was leaving the restaurant. She asked who put on my "drapes". I was so proud to day I did it myself. She smiled and said "next time, put it on this shoulder".<br /><br /><br /><br />15) I don't watch R rated movies. It makes rentals and theater much easier to decide, and not seeing several award-winning movies is... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">ok</span> with me.<br /><br /><br /><br />16) I didn't cry when my dad died. (I'll post more on that later, in March)<br /><br /><br /><br />17) I lived with my oldest brother and his family for 7 months in Germany when I was a teenager. I met some great people, some I still am in contact with, many others I think of and wonder about often. <br /><br /><br /><br />18) I spent a weekend in Paris alone when I was 14. (I was with a tour group, but once I got there I was on my own til we got on the bus to go back to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ludwigsburg</span>.)<br /><br /><br /><br />19) My mother gave me my middle name from Scarlett <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">O'Hara</span> (Vivian LEIGH).<br /><br /><br /><br />20) The first name came from some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">sickeningly</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Sweet</span> cologne mom wore for several years. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Tabu</span> by DANA.<br /><br /><br /><br />21) I used to think I would be just like Dawn (my favorite sister) and said I was 5'3" and even bought size 7 shoes. I figured I would be just like her. I was nearly 20 before I admitted I'm NOT Dawn, I'm DANA.<br /><br /><br /><br />22) My favorite birthday party was when I turned 17. It was the night of the Bloomfield Hills Stake Valentine Ball. Mom planned a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Pre</span>-Ball Ball, invited all my friends from around the stake, didn't mention it was my birthday. She copied a beautiful dress for me that Marie Osmond wore on her TV show and had <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">butlered</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">dors devours</span>. The cake was a huge heart. It was a fabulous way to start off a great dance. It was a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">real</span> grown up party and I LOVED IT.Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-15664808950739474772009-02-10T14:54:00.002-05:002009-02-10T15:11:56.750-05:00Picture-PictureOk, so I'm not so fond of any pictures of myself. Goofy expression, frizzy hair, freckles, wrong view, nose looks too sharp, cheecks look too full, you get the idea. Ya know, when we look at the babes in advertisements, the one picture we see is probably one of a g'zillion taken of them that day. I hesitate to put pictures of myself on the blog. I know, I know. It is what it is. But let me tell you about how I got the one that is there. We were having a Womens' retreat and the ever- so-fab photographer Laurel Hogge was in charge of getting pictures of each sister. So for a few weeks she was showing up at church with one of her cameras. I'm sure she has a truck load of equipment, but this was just a point and shoot camera. We were in the hallway, yukkin' it up and giggling, she knew I was uncomfortable with a lense pointed at me, but she made it fun and I was flipping my hair around and just being goofey. By golly, it's pretty dang good!!! Oh, I see my face is a little shiny, but.. it is what it is. Laurel did a great job.<br /><br />I hesitate to give too much info online, ya know anybody can read it, but Laurel has a website, I did say she's a professional, didn't I? <a href="http://laurelphotography.com/">Enjoy her website. </a> She has a great shoot from a Ford Mansion. She's not from around here, she's from Alaska, so I had to call and tell her what a big deal it is that she got that Ford job.<br /><br />She's a doll and I wouldn't have been this happy in front of a lense with anybody else behind it.Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-40416679645026341982009-02-05T17:10:00.006-05:002009-02-06T13:42:16.835-05:0022 Randoms<span style="font-family:arial;">4). I love Cop shows, Dragnet, Streets of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">SanFrancisco</span>, Law and Order, Cops, The First 48... But I believe <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">everybody's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">alibi</span>. "I wouldn't lie to you!" I'd say "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ok</span>, go home, sorry to bother you."</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">5). I jumped out of a plane in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Lehi</span>, Utah when I was 17. John Holiday was impressed, I was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ok</span> with that. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">6). I pulled out my first gray hairs when I was also... 17. Then my first dye job; "washed away only the gray". Now I use the real stuff. I always figured I'd get sick and have a bald head and let it all grow back gray. So far that hasn't happened. I may be one of those 80 year old ladies that you look at and say "Who does she think she's fooling?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">7). I love baking and cooking, always have and always will. I often eat something and try to figure the recipe in my mind. I don't follow recipes too often, but things usually turn out <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ok</span>. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">8). I never knew my grandfathers. One died when my mom was a child and the other left the family when my dad was a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">pre</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">schooler</span>. My dad was a fabulous grandfather. Darned good dad too. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">9). I went to a fortune teller once. She wanted $100. I wasn't THAT interested. We agreed on $35. It was interestin. Not too spooky. She knew some stuff that was not too generic. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">...Stay tuned... Is this ego, or what? Like anybody really cares? I guess it's more for me than anything.</span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-91652118337814015162009-02-05T07:01:00.005-05:002009-02-05T07:07:49.534-05:0025 Random things about me<span style="font-family:arial;">It may take me 25 days: </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">1.) I'm the only redhead in my family. My sister always had soft beautiful blond hair. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">2). I had the same kindergarten teacher as my mom and dad. (Miss Eisenberg, also a redhead)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">3). My Gramma Mattson made me feel like life was magic. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">... more to come...</span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-46262356482820246932009-02-01T12:54:00.005-05:002009-02-01T14:00:27.437-05:00The New Year celebration<span style="font-family:arial;">The last Sunday of the year Jerome was at his parents' house caring for his dying father. I was having a light lunch and the power went out. It happens in the countryside and in bad weather. Ya never know for how long. Soooo, I got out the old phone (the one that you plug in to the wall for phone line, not electricity. Everybody should keep one on hand) and called the electric compay. I know the number by heart: 800-477-4747. The recorded message said that yes, there is a power outage. The recording couldn't even tell us what to expect in terms of how long. Hmm, 2 hrs? 2 weeks? No clue. So, into emergency mode: candels and matches, flashlights, wood for the stove, Pot of water to keep heated on the stove, battery operated alarm clock and radio. All that great stuff that I buy from </span><a href="http://beprepared.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Emergency Essentials</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> really comes in handy. And that beautiful wood buring stove Jerome hooked us up with last year? Yep, lovin' it now. (I'll learn to post pictures and have them on hand so that you can see not only the beautiful stove, but the fabulouse marble and slate tile work the the men in my life did.)I am thankful for it. Monday: Glad to go to work. Kirstynn, being my neighbor, was out of power too, so she felt my pain. Actually, I wasn't having much pain. We take benefit of the day-light hours and set things of for easy function in the dark. It's dark at 5:30, so we went to the pool. Entertainment, exercise AND a hot shower. Jerome stayed in Dearborn to care for his dad. Kirstynn went to her Monday Girls' Night and Nora slept in my bed with me and we watched a movie until the battery died. I think the power came on the evening of the 31st. Again, I refer you to <a href="http://evansfactor.blogspot.com/">Kirstynn's blog</a>, December 31st. . </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">On the afternoon of New Years' Eve, Jerome and I went for a Couples Massage. It was a well-deserved treat. The Om Spa in Dearborn that really does it up nice. </span><a href="http://omdayspa.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">OM Spa</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">... Ahhh, another shower!!! New Year's eve was once again Jerome's turn to spend the night with his father. I decided to spend the night too, Pauline was there of course and Aunt Theresa was there too. It was not the average New Year's Eve celebration we would normally enjoy, but it was necessary. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">New Year's Day was quite fun, though. Their little house flooded with family, neighbors and well-wishers. It was really nice to see so many people that we love. We went to celebrate MARLEY'S FIRST BIRTHDAY. It's always a party withthose kids, but when BIRTHDAY is involved it means CAKE too, and Alison did a killer job on some ooohhh so yummy foods. See <a href="http://thesisterconnection.blogspot.com/">Alie's blog</a> dated Jan 12. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">On January 2nd Jerry took his final breath. Kirstynn posted on that event from her perspective. Jerome and I left for a couple of hours to have a long-planned dinner date with a co-worker. We made it a short evening and returned to find the house again, still filled with family. Matt and Alie spent their "date night" there and more family was there as well. The following few days were of course the viewing and the funeral. (I know it isn't right to compare for better or best, but I must say, Chuck Staub spoiled it for everybody who I know who will ever die from his death onward. I'll post more about that later too, so you're gonna get 2 years worth of stuff from me this year.) Once the funeral events were over, we were able to take our winter get-away to Florida. That's the week it was in the 50s in the Sunshine state. So, you see, this is a glimpse of the chaos that I am growing from by February 14th.</span> <span style="font-family:arial;">That's my target date for being "on track". You'll see how that works out for me.</span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-27063898461376353802009-01-31T15:42:00.003-05:002009-01-31T15:59:39.729-05:002009<span style="font-family:arial;">Ahhhh, January.. Out with the old, in with the new. I hesitate to make New Year's resolutions. I prefer to reflect and visualize what I want to be and make the changes in the coming year. I have had the thought in July... "I think I'll do that next year." It's "next year". So my visual includes BLOGGING. Posting and encouraging. I also see orderly closets in my home and fun, filled scrapbooks to look at on Sunday afternoons with my grandchildren. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm quite thankful that 2008 is over. I pretty much missed the last few months of it and the first few weeks of this year, so my goal is that by Feburary 14th I'll be all up to date with life. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I'll take time in future posts to share some of the blessings, tragedies, inconveniences, and detours that I experienced in 2008. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What remains steady, I am so thankful for: </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Peace in my home. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The endless game of catch-up I am in with my Father in Heaven. (I am blessed. I strive to be worthy. He blesses me more. I strive to be worthy ... you get the idea.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A mother who loves me and thinks I'm fabulous. (If she tells me I am, I will strive to live up to that. It works: I keep striving.) </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Children that really know me and love me still. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Grandchildren that turn the house to magic when they come. Jump on Lulu's bed? Sure!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Knowlege that this is but a portion of our existence. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What you'll see from me this year: </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Clean orderly closets. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Beautiful scrapbooks. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Healthy, properly proportioned physical self.</span>Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-26081710306669763282008-06-29T18:06:00.000-04:002008-06-29T18:07:41.532-04:00Testing, testing...1-2-3Can I really do this on my own?Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-39427226974516285282008-06-24T07:26:00.000-04:002008-06-24T11:37:58.807-04:00User names, logins and passwords, OH MY!!!I remember my mother's first password. Farmer Jack grocery store was making it easier for their customers to write checks and even allowed the password customers to write their checks for over the amount for cash. It was MEL. Her first (and only at the time) grandchild. I remember my first password, my first day working as a transcriptionist for Henry Ford Hospital. I won't reveal it - I still use it sometimes. The next password I got was assigned to my by Dearborn Federal Credit Union. I'm sure my kids still know it, though my money card won't dole out cash with it any longer, however, it will open my car. But I don't know the password to use my ATM now. I do still have the un-opened envelope containing that information.<br /><br />Do you have just one password on everything from your online banking, your blog site, Lands End online catalog, Travelocity, IM, work email, home email, yadda, yadda, yadda? If you have just one password for everything, and someone finds it out, then you're screwed. If you have a few different ones, then you need to remember which goes with which. Well, there are those times when you need to click on "forgot your password?" and then they'll email it to you. Hmmm, which email account did I register with? Then they have the series of questions, who was your lab partner in 9th grade, or what was the street of the first house you lived in. Dan Frechette and Ardmore. Funny how important it is today to remember those things from the past. I know several numbers, telephone, both home, offices and faxes, logins and passwords for several clients (they are amazed that I know their passwords -- I never tell them I don't know my own, I let them be impressed), birthdates of my siblings, inlaws, children and their families, my best friend from 3rd grade. I know my ssn, my husbands' (not a typo, the ssn of 2 husbands. actually I memorized the first one first, after I married Jerome. I figured if I needed his, I could ask and he'd tell me. If I needed the former, he'd say something like "none of your business") I remember my house number on Ardmore, and my Grandma Mattson's phone number (she's been dead for38 years).<br /><br />But I forgot my password for my blog. Darling Kirstynn figured it all out for me and now I am on track. I hope she takes as good of care of me (tweezing chin hairs and keeping lotion on my feet) when I am even more old and unable to....<br /><br />Another funny thing: Today would have been my 30th anniversary, had I remained married to Charles Harrison. Hmmmm, wonder what he's doing.. Still with wife #3? I wish him no ill. He gave me 2 beautiful children, who are reproducing the same. More about that .... maybe tomorrow.Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1404154436881967667.post-86833744842912714362008-04-07T11:10:00.000-04:002008-04-07T11:14:46.178-04:00Its a blog-blog worldPeer paressure does funny things. It made me jump out of a plane was I was 17, and now I'm posting a blog under daughter pressure. ;) I guess I want to stay in the loop. <br />I think I'll need to put some photos in order soon too.Q'Villehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12390668394226062598noreply@blogger.com3