tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43572300066852387842024-03-19T03:48:00.839-05:00Retirement The Good LifeIs there life after working? Oh yeah!Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.comBlogger628125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-72195431537382376302024-03-11T21:47:00.000-05:002024-03-11T21:47:23.800-05:00Success<p>Success in life is not whether you win, but how you play the cards you are dealt. - Johnny</p><p><br /></p><p>My husband comes up with the best comments. This is just one.</p><p><br /></p><p>I love you.</p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-86238903737207038842023-09-08T08:25:00.004-05:002023-09-08T08:25:54.710-05:00I Want to do it Myself<p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghh_Em80haf8ncHYE51YvEhtqOLlp8kQRDXkp7cLqH7Ij5GE3BhetvFXC7CfsAlGKNfQ8q0pCrlZBW7WtjLwOKP3D6YYIpFdCzJvwEfE6MV81S-zhlu8iR8T2OcxgDyJqeYDJCUdT5gjYgOnTlwYvAaGtR7fZD-hTdKUitzAE_O5B72lzTm1XMJItAmjk/s4032/1020A33F-8A5F-4B50-94F4-9B09A5457E5F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghh_Em80haf8ncHYE51YvEhtqOLlp8kQRDXkp7cLqH7Ij5GE3BhetvFXC7CfsAlGKNfQ8q0pCrlZBW7WtjLwOKP3D6YYIpFdCzJvwEfE6MV81S-zhlu8iR8T2OcxgDyJqeYDJCUdT5gjYgOnTlwYvAaGtR7fZD-hTdKUitzAE_O5B72lzTm1XMJItAmjk/s320/1020A33F-8A5F-4B50-94F4-9B09A5457E5F.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;">My hubby….In the garage..one more time.</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;">He’s changing the struts on the 20 year-old Jaguar….I can’t believe our cute little car is 20 years old.</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;">So here we are, me on the computer watching my favorite person in the whole world work on the car. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"> </span></p>
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<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">It’s only 96 degrees….not that bad. Since we have gotten older, heat isn’t nearly as daunting as it was when we were in our 40s. So if you come to our house and the temperature control is set at 80, please understand……and turn down the air. Don’t you worry, we will turn it back after you leave. Forgive us please! One of these days you might be cold when the temp reaches 80….you will understand around age 75.</p>
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<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">“Why are you working on the car when we could take it to a repair shop?”, I asked. With a strong voice and a sense of pride he told me he wanted to “just do it myself”. I understood immediately. Sometimes I just want to do it myself, too.</p>
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<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Don’t you worry, I will be right here beside him just like the old days. If that photo looks a little scary to you, believe you me, he puts safety first. Nonetheless, I checked it out myself. Just did it himself. </p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I love you. </p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-36244106529986078992023-07-22T21:46:00.002-05:002023-07-22T21:50:11.459-05:00Just Another Saturday Night<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkatLRF4xea7T4f2XCPqZeO3g_W2FD53Jkb48_NzbihGVZLoFCfealKIVUyJerLadQ6DFAVgezDH-EjCugYwBMpNUS_Lt0KtV6F2AxkYplSMdehHHmmdgd-Pm02B4qHkGXEZ7cQzwRhCZ1ub1e0VHuDJEAi0EO02EbfH7pKOvmcLeY6Fpb-0C4JCFWXIc/s4032/80C14862-E25D-4CCB-8947-A7C5F89F35FE.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkatLRF4xea7T4f2XCPqZeO3g_W2FD53Jkb48_NzbihGVZLoFCfealKIVUyJerLadQ6DFAVgezDH-EjCugYwBMpNUS_Lt0KtV6F2AxkYplSMdehHHmmdgd-Pm02B4qHkGXEZ7cQzwRhCZ1ub1e0VHuDJEAi0EO02EbfH7pKOvmcLeY6Fpb-0C4JCFWXIc/w320-h309/80C14862-E25D-4CCB-8947-A7C5F89F35FE.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Have you been outside tonight?<p></p><p>I am going to suggest you get outside, right now, right this minute. This minute will never come again. Okay, I know if you read this sometime in the future this minute has done and gone. (My English teacher wouldn't like that grammar.). See how fast time slips away? Gosh, even now, that minute has passed for me and another one is almost gone. </p><p>Well that was a bit of a downer, wasn't it? Let's lighten things up and remember our blessings. </p><p>1. It is a beautiful night. The frogs and cricket noises are so loud tonight, but after a while they are just background noise. It is funny that ever once in a while they will ALL totally shut up. Then the silence is almost as loud as the frogs. All that noise brings back camping memories.</p><p>2. The air is so cool that I can feel fall in the air. Despite the heat of the summer day, in July and August Oklahoma nights begin to cool, not ever night but some: The humidity has something to do with this. While I type, the back of my arms are cool and a light wrap might feel nice. </p><p>3. Bouncing basketballs, children laughing. something that sound like sparklers sizzling, and now and again a crying two year old is also what I hear. A new young couple with two younger children have moved across the street. They are putting new life into our retirement age neighborhood. It is nice to know that our quiet neighborhood will continue to be a beautiful place to read a family. Dad...keep bouncing the basketball. It brings happiness to this woman who lives across the street.</p><p>4. When we built here 45 years ago, everyone on our street was about the same age with growing families. Some of the neighbors moved on, some have passed away, but some are still here......you can only imagine how old we are now!!!!!! As Cher would say, "and the beat goes on...and on...and on. </p><p>5. My heart is happy. I have been in contact with most of my family in one way or another this week. My brother-in-law had a health scare this week, but seems to be doing better. That is a blessing and an answered prayer.</p><p>6. Yesterday, we laid a lot of sod with a lot of help from our grandsons and our daughter and son. Today, the grass looks a little yellow at this point. We will keep watering and fertilizing and maybe we will have green grass all the way to the street. </p><p>7. Tonight my daughter and son-in-law are at an outdoor concert. I hope they have a lot of fun. I have wonderful memories of doing the same thing some 40 years ago. We need to make that happen again.</p><p>8. Our son sent a picture of a chicken enchilada casserole he made just a bit ago. I cannot explain how much the little blond-haired boy has changed. Where was this chef in 1993? He loves to cook....this...the boy who only microwaved bologna...oh wait....he could make the best macaroni according to his sister. By the way, microwaved bologna stinks to high heaven.</p><p>9. My man is sitting across from me scrolling through his tablet; living his best life. Therefore, I am living my best life. Well, that's about all I have to write tonight. Getting back to writing is much harder than I thought. When I went to get the laptop I had wonderful things to tell you and a wonderful way of putting them down on the blog, but when I started typing words did not come. I have read things about writers block for published authors. That would be so frustrating knowing one had a deadline to complete a book. </p><p>10. I am grateful that I don't have a deadline. I am grateful for that apricot fried pie that I am about to split with Johnny and grateful to top it with ice cream.</p><p>Everyone, have a wonderful night. I love you. Just to let you know, he doesn't want pie and ice cream. Back in the freezer it goes.......insert sad face......</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-87005161073916345592022-09-04T19:43:00.007-05:002022-09-04T19:57:11.890-05:00My View of the World<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6IcY2b90DJFpXxmTP3kDIJpN8sumLuXxSMnTAj850Dp-ycj6NBYRFgbDTk70rDB56595v5p3O2c2gXUsDv_GmppAwljxazU0O8A8qjE2CWL9FVZtvINKwhuNNfpNAoLWUNPLlD_479juJSj6TQ3XfkzbVuj3UI1WuCLCwvaWccYbYeOqw3PEHdZql/s4032/5A463810-2CB9-46F8-A3E8-DDA249B00FBB.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6IcY2b90DJFpXxmTP3kDIJpN8sumLuXxSMnTAj850Dp-ycj6NBYRFgbDTk70rDB56595v5p3O2c2gXUsDv_GmppAwljxazU0O8A8qjE2CWL9FVZtvINKwhuNNfpNAoLWUNPLlD_479juJSj6TQ3XfkzbVuj3UI1WuCLCwvaWccYbYeOqw3PEHdZql/s320/5A463810-2CB9-46F8-A3E8-DDA249B00FBB.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /> I wish the whole world had my view tonight. There is just something special about sitting outside in the evening. What if we lived in Chicago or New York or any highly populated area where people are stacked many stories high? I cannot imagine that. Do they ever have an evening as I am enjoying tonight? My imagination runs wild sometimes and I think and wonder about others. especially about those folks living in high rises without a balcony and in deplorable conditions. Maybe they have a window, maybe not. How sad it must be. <p></p><p>Here it is the Labor Day eve we are blessed with a near perfect night. On this particular night, not one sound do I hear except a leaf blower off in the far distance. Even the neighbor has put his away for the night. Now nothing. <b><i>SILENCE. </i></b>No wind at all which is extremely rare in Oklahoma. <i>The sound of silence.</i></p><p>We will go inside in a bit, but for now we are going to soak up this blessing a little bit longer unless the mosquitos decide to have dinner on us.</p><p>Enjoy your Labor Day and for us retired folks, you will find us on the porch. </p><p>I love you.</p><p><i>Oh wait! I hear a noise! The geese just flew over. Goodnight all. It's all about the blessings. </i></p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-86140833986217279772022-08-13T20:31:00.006-05:002022-09-01T19:13:54.370-05:00Nostalgia for an Ordinary Life<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKu2-FKdagLFrZBe-B3sw28gG-b_n8P9FO5MC_yNy15JEsnY4jBmmzZN7l-wAxqLuRFOZOdkt5J_ujSUiyKONPD0xNQlji9HH6Al5eFwY6Yzj_a_Uydz0_rE1TRZYT1Sq9KeqO3cdbcFcqgU_gDVHIq0nTHx3NOGDwLJAs9Sd3e41gi1QPyu_2ChcX/s4032/DB4FD680-D27C-4D1B-A827-06C1E1C30476.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKu2-FKdagLFrZBe-B3sw28gG-b_n8P9FO5MC_yNy15JEsnY4jBmmzZN7l-wAxqLuRFOZOdkt5J_ujSUiyKONPD0xNQlji9HH6Al5eFwY6Yzj_a_Uydz0_rE1TRZYT1Sq9KeqO3cdbcFcqgU_gDVHIq0nTHx3NOGDwLJAs9Sd3e41gi1QPyu_2ChcX/s320/DB4FD680-D27C-4D1B-A827-06C1E1C30476.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Many, many evenings have I sat in a lawn chair working on a small project, reading a book, or just chatting away in this very garage just to keep Johnny company. He often would work into the night fixing up his Corvette, repairing the lawn mower that I somehow always managed to break every time I used it, changing the oil in one of the vehicles, fixing a small appliance for me......the list could go on forever. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">All of a sudden tonight it hit me that these little times we had and are continuing to have together are more precious than those memories made on a vacation for they are the heart of our marriage. Sounds strange? When I look back, of course our vacations were wonderful, but these everyday ordinary days......the days spent in the garage, the days spent in the kitchen, the days of him being on the computer, the nights that I hear him giggle at a silly British comedy, the times he is engrossed in a black and white movie grimacing every time a fight scene would break out (I think he was actually fighting himself), even the hot, long nights in the building....THESE ARE THE MEMORIES I cherish. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ordinary pleasant memories. Vacations come and go, but life is NOW in the ordinary things. Don't wait. LIVE a pleasant life and make those ordinary memories. Find the good in the ordinary day to day life.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love you.</div><div><br /></div>By the way, the Corvette is still there in the same spot. The chaos is still there, too, and the garage smell is the same.............love the memories. Love the NOW.<p></p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-18147606040944966862022-07-27T21:27:00.000-05:002022-07-27T21:27:16.606-05:00New Elvis Movie<p>I can't speak! Well, I guess I can now. It has been a little over two hours since I returned from going to the theater to see the new Elvis movie....<b><i>ALONE.</i></b></p><p><b><i>Have you ever gone to a movie that left you speechless? Since I was alone, there was no reason for me to chat away, but this affected me to the point of not even wanting to smile. I never turned on the radio because I was not ready to have my internal, emotional, mental psyche interrupted. </i></b></p><p>Johnny asked me about the movie and I muttered something, but headed out to the hot porch to unwind from my thoughts. After a little bit, the heat drove me in and I popped a can of Sprite. I told Johnny that if I was a drinking woman, I would have had something stronger.</p><p>Then I proceeded to describe to him the feelings I had after seeing this flick, but I was having trouble speaking about it. The words weren't coming that would adequately describe how much I was affected by an Elvis movie. Of course all movies are a work of fiction in one way or another. Let's face it, the bottom line of a movie is money. So is this movie factual, probably not in all cases, but it left me with a sad impression that Elvis was highly used and exploited by his manager, and he <b>needed</b> the adoration of all his fans which was a lethal combination. </p><p>Although I have always loved his voice and music, I was never a big fan of Elvis, but something about this movie left me feeling sorry for him. I wish he didn't have to live that drug filled life to perform on stage and then to live life.</p><p>I remember the day he died. It was the week before Shawna was born and I was setting in the car at a lumber company on I35. Stunned! Even though I knew he was not performing well on stage anymore and most of us knew or thought it was because of drugs. I think most of us assumed that Elvis would live forever. He was a life force, after all. But it happened and it stunned the world. </p><p>If there aren't awards in every category for this movie, I will be stunned. Oh Nancy, I wish you had been alive to see this movie because you would be the first one I would have called. I could <i style="font-weight: bold;">speak </i>to you my friend.</p><p>I love you.</p><p><i>When we were in high school, Nancy, Joyce, and I would have Friday night sleepovers and almost every time, there would be an Elvis movie on TV. In our pjs we pile up to watch his movie and have Fritos and bean dip!!!! Good times!!!!</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-58180290374679381512022-05-15T10:34:00.004-05:002022-05-15T10:46:02.893-05:00It's the Same, but It's Not the Same<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9GtKNtcyk0Kwy1C81_zoaDmR4R8ZKTYV-jL5jfCPkstsXdecoimpT6PM8TzkqPH8IRKu0T3-OM9BF88AcuTFy93m2hHC6Iz_2cqZ6FXWdFkuBeI0hO5188ePfMW4hPIbIJZVvP6lLG8GFrI-bFUb1SyFzDhcICMfnuecAgUO4Jn5bJ5KP3mzlQvD/s4032/C245385F-6641-413B-B46B-1E239805FF00.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9GtKNtcyk0Kwy1C81_zoaDmR4R8ZKTYV-jL5jfCPkstsXdecoimpT6PM8TzkqPH8IRKu0T3-OM9BF88AcuTFy93m2hHC6Iz_2cqZ6FXWdFkuBeI0hO5188ePfMW4hPIbIJZVvP6lLG8GFrI-bFUb1SyFzDhcICMfnuecAgUO4Jn5bJ5KP3mzlQvD/s320/C245385F-6641-413B-B46B-1E239805FF00.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />It's the same, but it's not the same.<p></p><p>I haven't planted a garden in years and years, but the last couple of years I have been planting a few seeds in a waist-high container....I don't have to stoop. I do NOT consider myself a gardener so don't ever expect any prize winning vegetables from me. </p><p>BUT, this morning I was able to gather a few lettuce leaves for a salad tonight. I washed and rinsed a couple of times, dunking my hands in the cool water and swirling the leaves around and I had pleasant memories of doing that during my childhood. </p><p>Mom would gather great big bunches of lettuce to make wilted lettuce from the grease she had collected. (We had to have a lot of lettuce for the seven of us because when lettuce wilts, it does just that....shrinks into nothing.) I can tell you that there was nothing better tasting as that salad. I absolutely love it. It was our job to rinse the lettuce and rinse we did. We had to dunk and whirl those lettuce leaves over and over and over again, changing water several times to get the sand off.</p><p>As I was rinsing the lettuce this morning, it was the same, BUT it was NOT the same. I walked into a cool kitchen, almost cold. Back on Route One, Box 208, Prague, OK, it was HOT. Hot when we picked it, hot in the kitchen, but that COOL water was everything. It made the unpleasant task of picking it turn into a great expectation of the delicious wilted lettuce salad that mom was going to make. I have never been able to make it as good as mom nor have I tasted anybody's else's that was THAT good.</p><p>It's the same, but it's not the same.</p><p>I love you.</p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-65829112070164698412022-04-08T09:56:00.004-05:002022-04-08T09:56:48.082-05:00Resourcefulness <p>Good morning all.</p><p>1. I have never tasted a macaron. Just sayin'.</p><p>2. I had a strong flashback of my mom pasting lace curtains over board walls, then pasting wallpaper over that. Johnny asked if it wasn't gauze, but I distinctly remember the lace flower pattern in the curtains. He said that they used to use gauze over the boards to make them smooth before pasting the wall paper. </p><p>Then we had this whole discussion about the way people used to use things they had on hand to save money. They used everything UP! The clothes were passed from one child to the next and if you were in line for your big brother's summer shorts, then that is what you wore even if you were a girl. The examples of their frugality are endless.</p><p>This morning I was on Instagram looking at a woman's bathroom renovation. To me, her current bathroom is something I am still dreaming about, but to her, I guess it is time to go. Out with the old, in with the new. It will be interesting to see her before and after photos; however, I wonder and question about the necessity of throwing the old in the landfill. For what gain? </p><p>On this beautiful day, I wonder what my mother would think about the resourcefulness of this renovation. Her thoughts would probably run along these lines. 1. Isn't that (old) bathroom beautiful? 2. Why? 3. Is it broken? 4. Are you going to do it yourself? 5. Can't you reuse that toilet? 6. Are you going to give the old fixtures to someone? 7. How much is that costing? 8. Again, why?</p><p>So, Mom, I have to hand it to you. You were the queen of resourcefulness. You are still my inspiration. </p><p>I love you. </p><p><i>I wonder how different our world would be if we USED IT UP rather than fill our landfills with things we discard just because we no longer like the color.</i> </p><p> </p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-31396585696858369422022-04-05T19:15:00.000-05:002022-04-05T19:15:04.590-05:00Paint-by-Number Nostalgia <p> Good evening everyone from my bright and sunny sunroom. So bright I can hardly see what I type.</p><p>As the sun in my eyes I am reminded of painting a paint-by-number scene in 2020. The pandemic was in full force and had us stuck at home, so I ordered the paint kit. I worked a month on that thing, April 2020. The light at this time of day, from 6:00 to about 7:00, is ideal to see all the tiny, tiny numbers. A couple of years has gone by, but the memories are still strong as I sit here tonight. That painting is by no means a master piece, but as Johnny often tells me, it is about the process rather than the end result. He asks me questions like: Did you enjoy picking it out? Are you having fun? Are you keeping your mind off other things? If the answer is yes, then the end result does NOT matter. </p><p>Time has marched on, but we all have the memories. Thankfully, the strong memories in this room at this time of evening are pleasant. Not everyone has pleasant memories of that time. Be thankful, Regina. Be thankful.</p><p>Tonight, I am thankful that my family came through the pandemic relatively unscathed. </p><p>I am thankful that my five senses bring forth such vidid memories.</p><p>I love you. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div><br /></div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-33997937300011485212022-04-03T22:28:00.007-05:002022-04-03T22:28:52.100-05:00Ironing<p>Guess what, I have gone Marie Kondo on my closet. That is right, everything out! I haven't discarded much so far, but I have gotten all my summer clothes in the closet and ironed.</p><p>Friday, I ironed all day. All those white blouses are now pressed ready to be worn; however, I cannot bring myself to wear them right now. I think they must hang in the closet for a while, maybe all summer, just so I can admire my work. I can look back at those shirts to remind myself that on April Fool's Day I actually worked. </p><p>I love to iron. I bring the iron and board into the living room and turn the TV on to a classic movie. I am all set with a tall ice cold glass of tea. I just love the process of ironing. I love the monotony, I love the steam in my face, and I love getting the immediate gratification of watching those wrinkles disappear. </p><p>Wrinkles: That brings me to linen. I love linen and I have been shopping online for a few things to update my wardrobe. They will require ironing. But I have come to the conclusion that I am not a person who could actually pull off wrinkled clothes. I think it takes a certain person with a level of income to have the right accessories; very expensive jewelry, purses, scarves, and sandals to pull off the "I don't care about wrinkles." I am not one of those people. I just don't have the look. </p><p>Fun fact: I once did some ironing for a lady. I got $1 a shirt and that was in 1984. I like ironing, but I won't be ironing for hire anytime soon.</p><p>I love you, linen. Maybe someday................</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-46198079633442112342022-03-13T21:10:00.002-05:002022-04-03T22:29:46.873-05:00Sense of Smell<p>Yesterday, Audrey, Shawna, and I were in Target just browsing. We needed a couple hours out in the real world. We walked by the crayon aisle and I picked up a huge box of Crayola's and squeezed the box to see if they smelled better than the stale box of crayons I have at home. Oh my goodness, I was nearly knocked over with nostalgia. I was right back in first grade with my box of oversized box of crayons. The smell of the crayons plus the smell of the cardboard box reminded me so much of my Big Chief Tablet and my crayons. First grade.......</p><p>Also, it reminded me of Kress' basement looking for paper dolls and coloring books for my sisters for Christmas. Sometimes things just hit me.............. Tears were beginning to form in my eyes and I moved on.............. There's a time for sentimentality, but maybe not in Target, on Saturday, at noon!</p><p>By the way a new box of crayons will be in my shopping cart next week. They definitely smell better.</p><p>I love you! </p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-83812792180233963652021-11-07T18:35:00.004-06:002021-11-07T18:59:00.459-06:00I Guess my Life is PERFECT<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FGbCnnbQNmI/YYhxSWBjJMI/AAAAAAAACEM/fIbzE4WxIHQiRSXR36Gb1Xmh7FG8hQeoQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/054BB6C2-EA93-42B2-9678-DCEE9096F3D9.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FGbCnnbQNmI/YYhxSWBjJMI/AAAAAAAACEM/fIbzE4WxIHQiRSXR36Gb1Xmh7FG8hQeoQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/054BB6C2-EA93-42B2-9678-DCEE9096F3D9.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D8ZaIL8rwgU/YYhxkQJxqGI/AAAAAAAACEg/fXJfWF7Zru8N9ic-Mg_0UNwxz8lB4eRDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/8ACDD9AF-CDBA-497A-911B-C4877C0B316A.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dsdtzkkCocQ/YYhxkOB93OI/AAAAAAAACEc/QkM0W88TA7E4W7ngxePzlOgkcYP8WlgfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/8B8983CF-11B1-476A-90E6-E1A08173D3C2.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dsdtzkkCocQ/YYhxkOB93OI/AAAAAAAACEc/QkM0W88TA7E4W7ngxePzlOgkcYP8WlgfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/8B8983CF-11B1-476A-90E6-E1A08173D3C2.jpeg" width="240" /></a><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D8ZaIL8rwgU/YYhxkQJxqGI/AAAAAAAACEg/fXJfWF7Zru8N9ic-Mg_0UNwxz8lB4eRDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/8ACDD9AF-CDBA-497A-911B-C4877C0B316A.jpeg" width="240" /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DB4TeraHr0w/YYhxkwMZ-vI/AAAAAAAACEo/oDN0zZjwXB4J04Y3p5matlIgtU6FH0KNwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/E0326EAC-339E-4835-9475-4EF8901B49FD.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DB4TeraHr0w/YYhxkwMZ-vI/AAAAAAAACEo/oDN0zZjwXB4J04Y3p5matlIgtU6FH0KNwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/E0326EAC-339E-4835-9475-4EF8901B49FD.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n_UTxSXSkoE/YYhxSAZ8QpI/AAAAAAAACEI/pIQKpneExgIt07hfi6foqE3DQNKjuIO3wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/08405ED4-2E4B-4201-AF8F-EB182CD1B994.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n_UTxSXSkoE/YYhxSAZ8QpI/AAAAAAAACEI/pIQKpneExgIt07hfi6foqE3DQNKjuIO3wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/08405ED4-2E4B-4201-AF8F-EB182CD1B994.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Do you ever have something that just makes your life seem better than what it actually is? Something simple? Well, I do. It is the white miniature string lights that are around the ceiling in my sunroom. <i>(We sit out here almost every evening just to catch a glimpse of the wildlife. Most often it is the fox and deer and we were not disappointed tonight.)</i> When it gets too dark, we turn on the tiny ceiling lights and immediately my spirits are lifted. <span style="color: red;">Dare I say the magic of Christmas?</span> There's something about these lights reflecting off the seven double glass doors that is mesmerizing. They look like airport runway lights and go on forever and ever and ever. <p></p><p>Didn't we have a beautiful Sunday? Such a beautiful night after a beautiful day. We have had several of those this year. I suppose that will make up for 2020 ice storm which left our trees in tatters. Nonetheless, our 2021 fall is beautiful. Each year we wait and wonder what fall will bring to our little area. This year isn't as brilliant in color as other years <i>(I keep hoping we are not at the peak)</i>, but each time when I meander through our tiny woods, I see autumn and nature at its finest. You will find beauty everywhere.</p><p>Another thing that makes my life seem so good is mowing the yard. When I was mowing yesterday--perhaps for the last time this year--I was reminded of all the autumns of the last 73 years. Those 73 autumn memories melded together to make me, ME. To make ME remember the good times. To make ME enjoy the smell of a bonfire. To make ME love the changing colors. To make me look forward to more autumns. To make ME want to share my joy of autumn with those I love. To make ME cherish the life as I live it. </p><p>I follow a lot of Instagram home decor accounts and while they do have beautiful homes, I feel no jealously. There is something about our humble abode that that keeps me grounded. Travel here and there, but this is where I want to be! </p><p>Here are some photos of our yard, Autumn 2021. I guess my life is PERFECT. </p><p>I love you!</p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-61153675648015667002021-09-30T20:56:00.009-05:002021-09-30T21:35:09.655-05:002021 New Mexico Adventure--Trip Report<div class="separator"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QDhLrix62WA/YVZr9Ct2tUI/AAAAAAAACC0/oTl8xI-lTzwIt93QgLUn2Y7FL7vVGuVagCLcBGAsYHQ/s3088/43B5B8E0-BA08-482C-989D-12B48299C182.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QDhLrix62WA/YVZr9Ct2tUI/AAAAAAAACC0/oTl8xI-lTzwIt93QgLUn2Y7FL7vVGuVagCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/43B5B8E0-BA08-482C-989D-12B48299C182.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Leaving home. A kiss for luck and we're on our way!</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b8qq_aeFU_M/YVZr81pDTGI/AAAAAAAACCw/vHlL1jcK9R8Uuk5IGaiZTo871FS1bA5DQCLcBGAsYHQ/s3088/3815D010-CF11-48EA-B74F-5479BF660838.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b8qq_aeFU_M/YVZr81pDTGI/AAAAAAAACCw/vHlL1jcK9R8Uuk5IGaiZTo871FS1bA5DQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/3815D010-CF11-48EA-B74F-5479BF660838.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yEZlbq5BNYM/YVZsA843ZOI/AAAAAAAACDE/aAFyE5655985abN11dkDoHC1U9HZFPNGQCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/6E957F3A-FFCB-40AF-8C1E-8AF792617473.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yEZlbq5BNYM/YVZsA843ZOI/AAAAAAAACDE/aAFyE5655985abN11dkDoHC1U9HZFPNGQCLcBGAsYHQ/w241-h320/6E957F3A-FFCB-40AF-8C1E-8AF792617473.jpeg" width="241" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-furqUdFu4zU/YVZsCLvu4BI/AAAAAAAACDM/5WmSLKTYDfMBXuM7OeYQkD2n8kBT25B6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/FF905FA1-CE30-4280-B212-31C2D0E11E94.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-furqUdFu4zU/YVZsCLvu4BI/AAAAAAAACDM/5WmSLKTYDfMBXuM7OeYQkD2n8kBT25B6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/FF905FA1-CE30-4280-B212-31C2D0E11E94.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Years ago we used to write trips reports after we got back from TDY trips. This time I am writing my trip report to help me remember. As hard as it is to admit, memory fails from time to time.<p></p><p>We left a week ago Monday on an impromptu trip to New Mexico. We had to stop for gas in Elk City (Love's which was horrible to maneuver for gas but extremely nice restrooms--IMPORTANT) and turned NW toward Clayton, NM. We stayed the night in Clayton at the Best Western. When we checked in, there were seven gang cops checking in also. We felt safe for sure. I would not hesitate to stay at this Best Western again nor would I hesitate to recommend it to others. Actually, there are very few hotels in this area so your choices are few, nonetheless, I would chose this over other hotels had they been available. It's that good. Breakfast was complimentary and delicious. All the ingredients were there to make yourself a breakfast burrito. (That was the last time we were served breakfast even though the hotels were double the price of the one in Clayton.)</p><p>The next morning we decided to stay a couple of nights in Taos. We often change our route on the spur of the moment. If we see a road on the map that we hadn't traveled, we would just go down that road to see what's there. We traveled to Taos via Red River and stopped on I25 to get gas. Johnny got himself a black Route 66 t-shirt with a 1960s Corvette on it. We stopped at two places, the Mercantile and the Fudge Shop. Didn't buy a thing at the Mercantile, but bought a pound of fudge. If you buy a pound, you get a quarter pound free so it is a MUST that we buy a pound.</p><p>We got to Taos early afternoon and stopped at the Overland Sheepskin Company. I got a bowl of soup at a little restaurant there and Johnny got key lime pie and cup of cocoa. We stayed the night at Don Fernando Hotel which is a Hilton Tapestry hotel. I cannot say it was worth the $200+ a night, but it was a very quiet, comfortable place to stay. It was almost like condos with 8 or 10 rooms in a building. Next time, if there is one, we might try the El Pueblo. We walked around the town square the next morning. We had planned on going to the Indian pueblo but they were closed due to Covid. Of course, we had to eat Mexican food twice and both were delicious. Orlando's on the outskirts of Taos. The best!</p><p><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ggy4ydnRt5I/YVZsAMgBi5I/AAAAAAAACDA/dFqaYeSMfOkxavvMq7GqpkgmhesPck1wQCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/D37CAAE2-B450-40C4-A219-607503D8BFEF.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ggy4ydnRt5I/YVZsAMgBi5I/AAAAAAAACDA/dFqaYeSMfOkxavvMq7GqpkgmhesPck1wQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/D37CAAE2-B450-40C4-A219-607503D8BFEF.jpeg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xPruL5KiW3c/YVZyuvK8WiI/AAAAAAAACDs/ymc_vds3-gwCUCYmjx0UBlL6u3MYrWpLgCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/66DB832A-575F-411D-BE16-FB837007E847.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xPruL5KiW3c/YVZyuvK8WiI/AAAAAAAACDs/ymc_vds3-gwCUCYmjx0UBlL6u3MYrWpLgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/66DB832A-575F-411D-BE16-FB837007E847.jpeg" width="240" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p>Thursday, after getting gas, we headed to Santa Fe. We stayed at the Santa Fe Motel and Inn which was .6 miles from the town center. We headed straight there and walked and walked. We are so blessed to be able to walk. We split a BLT and avocado and sat on a picnic bench outside. Delightful time. We bought nothing except a t-shirt for me. (Had to keep up with Johnny.)</p><p>We were tired after walking downtown, so we ordered a pizza and walked to pick it up (a couple of blocks). We ate outside our room on a beautiful evening and had one of the biggest and best pizzas we have ever had. </p><p><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6LcB-LBXWAs/YVZr9UHfFsI/AAAAAAAACC4/CK0n8Hfp2908rqwP-dgTrFYJQfbu-RMsgCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/5857A2F0-DF1E-4AEE-9EE2-F95A10FB8B67.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6LcB-LBXWAs/YVZr9UHfFsI/AAAAAAAACC4/CK0n8Hfp2908rqwP-dgTrFYJQfbu-RMsgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/5857A2F0-DF1E-4AEE-9EE2-F95A10FB8B67.jpeg" width="240" /></a></p><p>The motel where we stayed in Santa Fe deserves its own paragraph. It was the cutest place and we DEFINITELY would stay there again. I had read their reviews which were phenomenal and a short walk so we wouldn't have to move our car (which didn't move while we were there). It was a quaint, quiet place that had all the New Mexico vibes. They didn't have breakfast, but had biscochito cookies and coffee in the lobby along with apples, cuties, and bananas. Hibicus tea and biscochito cookies were in the lobby at checkin. I just can't explain how enchanting this place is. Love! </p><p><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6MhX-JMsJNk/YVZr_PcwivI/AAAAAAAACC8/O7kUg3nN6sU2smLcdI3srlq3BcTU0A2_ACLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/5E4014F7-8D87-4E18-B72A-2C1B8A622BD0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6MhX-JMsJNk/YVZr_PcwivI/AAAAAAAACC8/O7kUg3nN6sU2smLcdI3srlq3BcTU0A2_ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/5E4014F7-8D87-4E18-B72A-2C1B8A622BD0.jpeg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R09XFviOuIo/YVZsBOxTeqI/AAAAAAAACDI/ukR5yzH745I7kUQgt1DqquVSAslQ_n8uQCLcBGAsYHQ/s4032/FC44CC31-1B28-497E-AD63-63F8F496B35B.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R09XFviOuIo/YVZsBOxTeqI/AAAAAAAACDI/ukR5yzH745I7kUQgt1DqquVSAslQ_n8uQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/FC44CC31-1B28-497E-AD63-63F8F496B35B.jpeg" width="240" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p>Next morning (after checking out the caution light--nothing wrong) we headed for home with the option to stop somewhere along the way if we got tired. Neither one of us were tired so we drove straight through to Oklahoma City. Got gas and and ice cream at McDonald's. We got home around 7:30. NO PLACE LIKE HOME.</p><p>ANOTHER TRIP IN THE BOOKS. </p><p>I love you.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-37598512764696681122021-09-27T22:57:00.002-05:002021-09-29T21:14:10.071-05:00Road Trip Talk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_lbotnWpYMw/YVUdUWslaCI/AAAAAAAACCo/hNDvDQL6rAsjGyM_wJSVQ-Ke5IyT0deMACLcBGAsYHQ/s3088/AAB83100-748F-49D4-852A-65CB65EA1847.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_lbotnWpYMw/YVUdUWslaCI/AAAAAAAACCo/hNDvDQL6rAsjGyM_wJSVQ-Ke5IyT0deMACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/AAB83100-748F-49D4-852A-65CB65EA1847.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Last week we took a road trip. We drove for about 1500 miles and only had the radio on for no more than 5 minutes one time! Did that mean rode in silence?????? Oh no! We talked and talked and talked as if we had just met and were falling in love. </p><p>And we observed. We observed all wind turbines along our route, discussed them, counted them (by the way, there are too many to count). We always look forward to a Route 66 icon, Lucille's. Sure enough people were stopped to take pictures. We wondered who they were and about where they were going. (By the way, we often make up scenarios of people we see on a trip. Are they married? Have kids? Grandkids? How they make their living.....<i>we make up our on fun.</i>)</p><p>We discussed the lack of restrooms along I40 in Texas and New Mexico. We pointed out every interesting thing in both those states because, well...........there are relatively few interesting things in some areas. Cows, now and then. A few antelope. A few cars...a very few. We had long conversations about how the residents make a living in those remote areas and how far their children have to ride the bus to school. What are those kids doing on a Friday night, who they date, and how are they going to meet someone to marry? <b>And the all important question: Where is the Amazon based and how many miles do they drive in a day. </b></p><p>We discussed and resolved <span style="color: red;">ALL</span> the world issues. That took some time, but we figured out. You can rest easy tonight. </p><p><i><b>We talked about you.</b> </i>YOU!!! Yes, if you are reading this, your name came up along the way. It is easy to become a psychologist when you have time to think things through. So if your ears were burning last week we were probably wondering and talking about you. </p><p>Kids, we talked about you, too. Grandchildren, too. We went down memory lane the whole trip and what a lane. What a life!</p><p>So many things to talk about. It feels so good to know that after 49 years together, we still find things to talk about. On the way home, I looked over at Johnny and my heart overflowed with sappy, sentimental love. We've had such a blessed life and the fact that we can just chat comfortably for hours at a time is icing on the cake. We still have a lot in common <i>(we discussed this)</i>. </p><p>So rest easy my pretties! Johnny and I have everything figured out. Turn off the radio and talk. What a life!</p><p>I love you.</p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-46795748807909616582021-08-15T21:09:00.005-05:002021-08-15T21:09:58.128-05:00Get on the Plane or Don't Get on the Plane?<div>Get on the plane or don't get on the plane? That is the question.</div><div><br /></div>It is totally dark in Oklahoma City at 8:55. The weekend is almost to a close although a weekend means little to me. Retirement does that to one. Days run together and that's just the way I like it. <div><br /></div><div>Lots going on with the Delta Variant of Covid 19...ramping up affecting those much younger than us retirees since we have had the vaccine. We have been asked to fly to Las Vegas to join another couple to have a few days just running around, shopping, and enjoying some great restaurants. Neither couple gamble so that would be pretty much our agenda. No pressure, just some quiet fun with a fun couple, laughing and eating. </div><div><br /></div><div>I would really love to go and so would Johnny. We even used our points for plane tickets. Then we slept! And thoughts ran rampant through my night-time brain. I thought about our risk and all the what ifs. Will we be safe? Will we survive a bout with Covid? And then there is the cooped up plane ride. Will a mask be enough? Probably not. But.............I STILL WANNA GO.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow perhaps we will turn our tickets back in.........and then that door will close. Oh Covid! I despise you and how you have changed our lives, our world. Get on the plane or don't get on the plane? That is the question.</div><div><br /></div><div>It has been a long time since I have written here. I have said this many times on this blog, but I will say it once again. I love you and hope to have another conversation and blog post tomorrow......maybe.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love you.</div>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-43009917158528926522021-01-01T21:23:00.004-06:002021-01-01T21:23:55.165-06:00Snow January 1, 2021<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AcDu4rdBTMQ/X-_h4yrvViI/AAAAAAAACAE/JTLd7uihmSEMfj64_eBfEbakIN8vz7DXQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/4AE7E227-C579-4EC1-9FB4-08A070BF672A.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AcDu4rdBTMQ/X-_h4yrvViI/AAAAAAAACAE/JTLd7uihmSEMfj64_eBfEbakIN8vz7DXQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/4AE7E227-C579-4EC1-9FB4-08A070BF672A.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mJmB4WQR5iY/X-_h4zIUQWI/AAAAAAAACAA/SkhwHY1K5oMkoqjtmwiE9aAiW8SStj1SwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/DA9ED5B4-8CB7-4C1F-8CF8-A238D235C96F.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mJmB4WQR5iY/X-_h4zIUQWI/AAAAAAAACAA/SkhwHY1K5oMkoqjtmwiE9aAiW8SStj1SwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/DA9ED5B4-8CB7-4C1F-8CF8-A238D235C96F.jpeg" /></a></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: center;">SNOW JANUARY 1, 2021</p></blockquote><p>Look what happened while you were sleeping!</p><p>Happy 2021. So sometime after the clock struck 12 when Guy Lombardo played his haunting and nostalgic and most memorable version of Auld Lang Syne on our Alexa, but before our 7:30 wakeup, this happened. </p><p>Some might look at this snow as another taxing issue left over from 2020, but I am going to look at it as a beautiful landscape painting. Our whole vista is covered in deep billowy clouds of whipped cream frosting; a feast for the eyes.</p><p>We don’t know what this year will bring just as we didn’t know what 2020 had in store. Living through last year makes me realize how quickly things can change. With that in mind, I can going to try to live each day as if I have received a blessing, because, frankly, I have.</p><p>I love you. Happy New Year.</p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-36964351735925809942020-12-31T12:09:00.000-06:002020-12-31T12:09:04.352-06:00Special Moments <p><br /></p><p><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1eAHf-sxTX4/X-4PYo9yl6I/AAAAAAAAB_0/JTSN5BxJ0PA7HqlTlrEHyX09MxY79nvrgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/C0C866B0-57A0-4431-BAB2-EB2A5617A1CD.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1eAHf-sxTX4/X-4PYo9yl6I/AAAAAAAAB_0/JTSN5BxJ0PA7HqlTlrEHyX09MxY79nvrgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/C0C866B0-57A0-4431-BAB2-EB2A5617A1CD.jpeg" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p>Here it is, the end of a year; one of the worst years that I can think of for many reasons. Not only the pandemic hit us all unexpectedly, I lost several good friends. It seemed every day was a new challenge. </p><p>Today, on Facebook I linked an old blog post about Pop Dixon and making our New Year’s Eve special. I reread a comment regarding that post. The commenter said life is a string of special moments. Looking back over 2020, I didn’t, at first, remember any special moments; all doom and gloom, certainly no string of special moments. Then it began to dawn on me that there were a lot of special moments. In fact the whole year was made up of special moments, perhaps smaller than in years past, but nonetheless, SPECIAL.</p><p>There was a one last Dallas trip to meet special friends just as the pandemic started.</p><p>There was a overnight trip to see our favorite guitarists right after Covid reared it’s ugly head. Weighing all the risks, we decided it was worth the effort....and it was, indeed!</p><p>There were the date day trips we made to Walmart grocery pickups. We made those trips fun just watching the world drive by on I40. </p><p>The trips for fast food only to eat in the car in the Target parking lot were entertaining. We, again, called them date nights. </p><p>Easter was different and challenging, but my immediate family got to share some social distancing on the front porch, even working in an Easter egg hunt.</p><p>Some of the best special moments were those warm evenings watching the deer enjoy the corn that we’d provided......then the foxes, opossum or two, even a family of 4 skunks waddled in a time or two.</p><p>Black and white movies became a new passion. Gosh, what productions those were. I enjoyed just looking at their movie sets, maybe more than the plots.</p><p>So.........here I set, corned beef simmering for Rueben sandwiches later, just about to work in a little nap because we will be up late making another sweet special moment. Friends, life is made up of a string of special moments. Make one, even if it is just for you....it takes effort. Maybe even an afternoon nap is special.</p><p>All my love for a great 2021.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-58880274068906291432020-08-09T20:41:00.000-05:002020-08-09T20:41:33.383-05:00I Washed my Hair with Rainwater <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vpJGZs4Bd9M/XzCi1Rdr4uI/AAAAAAAAB9U/w744RFepvroeOIJje9GVb1nWNlevhAfOQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/85883FA5-7BCA-41BC-87D6-6A7DF4523389.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vpJGZs4Bd9M/XzCi1Rdr4uI/AAAAAAAAB9U/w744RFepvroeOIJje9GVb1nWNlevhAfOQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/85883FA5-7BCA-41BC-87D6-6A7DF4523389.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4erHGKZKzRE/XzCi1Rd-8lI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/fwKFJdDJ150kNkoJ24-cJuMj01nAtRE0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/A2BAD072-44C1-4D46-8095-54286B917025.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4erHGKZKzRE/XzCi1Rd-8lI/AAAAAAAAB9Y/fwKFJdDJ150kNkoJ24-cJuMj01nAtRE0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/A2BAD072-44C1-4D46-8095-54286B917025.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AdFQWAS79m4/XzCi1cOMChI/AAAAAAAAB9c/vSxgtjB1ku0zyj6qAz61NW4dAeoWS8FegCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BF81F3F5-61A9-467B-80E0-F61929E2D394.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AdFQWAS79m4/XzCi1cOMChI/AAAAAAAAB9c/vSxgtjB1ku0zyj6qAz61NW4dAeoWS8FegCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/BF81F3F5-61A9-467B-80E0-F61929E2D394.jpeg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I did something today that I haven’t done in over 55 years; <b>I washed my hair with rainwater. </b>Back in the 60s my grandmother used to save rainwater, because, according to her, it made one’s hair softer. If grandma believed in rainwater as a softener, I certainly was a believer, too. </p><p>As her oldest granddaughter and a young teenager it was my privilege (and let us not dismiss the fact that it was an excuse to drive the car) to wash her hair on Saturdays. Her short coarse gray hair was so easily washed. I can still see her in her cotton dress leaning over the little white basin with red trim, me pouring cups of warm water over her head. The best part was always the suds, and after a gentle and thorough sudsing, I would follow up with a vinegar rinse. Grandma always thought that the vinegar rinse would cut some of the yellow from her gray hair. I don’t know about that, but I certainly know that it made her hair squeak. Squeaky hair to her, and to me, means one’s hair is clean! </p><p>A few days ago and quite by accident, this tub filled with rainwater. For many reasons this brought back old memories, and I just couldn’t pour the water out. So as a tribute to her, but more of a remembrance, I washed my hair today using this rainwater. I hope that you look at these pictures, and maybe you have some memories yourself, of a time when everything seemed precious. Not everything was it as easy as turning on the tap. </p><p>Another story about rainwater written in 2011. Hope you enjoy!</p><p><a href="https://retirementthegoodlife.blogspot.com/2011/05/rain-water.html">https://retirementthegoodlife.blogspot.com/2011/05/rain-water.html</a></p><p><br /></p><p>I love you. ❤️ </p><p>Grandma’s tub was at the corner of her porch just for this purpose. Remember,cousins? <i>Sometimes I wonder if my family was the only ones to appreciate this precious commodity </i></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-51765885241829528822020-07-25T23:41:00.000-05:002020-07-25T23:41:59.097-05:00The Dented Funnel <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You know when you reach in the drawer and pull out something as beat up as this funnel, perhaps you are older than you think.....<i>maybe</i>? I tend to think of myself as a spry young chick.....and then I see this. What a slap in the face realize I have been using the same funnel for the last 48 years. Am I that old.......to have a 48 year old funnel? <b><i>How old am I?</i></b><br />
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Just look at the stains and scratches and dents and more dents. No, not me, silly, the funnel! Am I going to throw that thing out just cause it’s dented? Oh no! That hot jelly still slides right through it. It still works. <br />
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I love you, but don’t throw me out just because I have a few dents. I still make good jalapeño jelly.<br />
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P.S. I wish I had Grandma’s old whisk, repaired with wire and I would pay premium to have the old flat bottomed metal spoon Mom used to stir gravy. Priceless memories. Now, let’s have some jelly.<br />
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Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-60795989391308029242020-07-23T23:09:00.001-05:002020-07-23T23:09:36.450-05:00What Happened to the Night “What happened to the night?” Johnny asked.<br />
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We have been enjoying the night lately. Because our normal has changed, we have been looking for new ideas to keep us entertained. We have discovered that we have a nightly nature show right outside our backdoor. Tonight after we finished our nightly wildlife session, we weren’t quite ready to go inside so we decided to take a walk in the dark. “What happened to the night?”, Johnny asked. It’s true, the night had disappeared. There were outside lights everywhere; lights that come on at dusk, some coming on automatically, some on timers. It was as bright as a runway. The night had actually disappeared. Gone was the night!<br />
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I wish you kids could experience the night on the farm back in the 60s. When my dad turned out the lights, it was dark! All one could see were the twinkling stars above. It was magical, not scary. It was a time when I felt at peace. I felt safe. There wasn’t a need to have a light that came on automatically at dusk; we had daddy. The night was night!<br />
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I love you. Turn out the lights.<br />
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<i>Yes, we did have an outside light but it was a flood light that was turned on only when we needed to go outside. Imagine five children playing under that light in the summertime. Imagine turning on that light to get a glimpse of the glittering snowflakes of the winter. But when we turned out the light it was night. It was peace. We were safe. Night was night.</i><br />
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<br />Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-42833533633984592662020-03-29T21:18:00.000-05:002020-03-29T21:18:48.469-05:00The Telephone Recipe Book<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Look at this.... What a hilarious menagerie of old recipes! Or so I thought the moment I flipped through the pages, recipes pasted over every square inch. All of a sudden it came to me........sort of an epiphany that it wasn't about the recipes at all; it was about the collection. She really had no intention of making these dishes. She was just collecting them..as a little HOBBY. She didn't have a scrapbook at hand, but that did NOT stop her. </div>
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In these quarantined times, we are all looking for things to entertain us, looking for a new hobby or dusting off our old projects. but we whine around, one excuse after another to do nothing. Grandma wasn't quarantined as we are today, but she had her own limitations. She couldn't drive so she walked a couple blocks for bread and milk, and only occasionally went into town for essentials. Maybe she was, indeed, quarantined. She didn't let the fact that she didn't have a scrapbook stop her from completing her project. She thought outside her box and she made do.</div>
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So when you find this old telephone book filled with recipes, (and I am definitely going to keep this) you will know why I kept it...not for the recipes, but for the reminder that a hobby can be anything you wish; besides it makes me smile. It humbles me.</div>
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Grandma, what a woman!!</div>
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<br />Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-57925476048147013972020-02-09T14:49:00.000-06:002020-02-09T14:49:27.370-06:00Flipping Pages Back to FrontGood Sunday afternoon.<br />
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The weather is somewhat odd today. At this very moment in time, the sun is beaming in my sunroom. Soon the sun will be blotted out by the clouds and rain drops will be hitting the tin roof....and then the sun will peak through once again. Such weather is so comforting to me because while the temperature is not what one would call warm, it somehow evokes spring.<br />
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I'm setting here flipping through one of my favorite catalogs...........from back to front..............as my mom would do her magazines. She always told me it was because she could look forward to the best pages still to come as they were at the front of the magazine. If she flipped pages from the front to the back, she'd be left with only the continuing pages of stories or uninteresting ads. <em>Does anyone out there remember all the military and boarding school ads at the back of magazines? I always felt sorry for the kids that might be sent there.</em><br />
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Anyway.........I am looking at my Sundance Catalog founded by Robert Redford in 1969. It's a beautiful catalog filled with page after page of all things southwest.....from sheets to shoes, beautiful oversize embroidered tops, a lot of things that are somewhat hippie in style with a hefty price tag. Sure enough as I flipped from back to front, I finished on the best...........$2500 jewelry..............and that's not going to happen........... <em>I wonder who buys such expensive things from catalogs?</em> If I were to spend that kind of money on jewelry, I'd certainly like to see and touch and try on in person.<br />
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The interesting thing I have come to realize looking at this catalog is I am no longer a hippie...not that I ever was....but I wanted to be one. And that's too bad because I can now afford such beautiful clothes and I do love these cute tops, but...........they no longer fit my image. I am no longer the svelte thin creature I once was. The hippie style just passed me by while I was flipping my life from back to front. I was all to conservative in my dress. I missed all the "pretties" of the styles of my youth and now I am left with the ads and the continuing pages. I say all this tongue in cheek, but there is a bit of irony in it. We go about our business day by day while thinking we will live our best life "one day". Life is still very good to me, but I realize that I no longer fit the image of southwest hippie as much as I love the clothing. <br />
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So start living your best life YESTERDAY. If we could turn back time, I sure would. Instead, I am going to live my best life TODAY....FOREVER...I might even be tempted to buy something with embroidery with that hippie flare.......somewhat tasteful.<br />
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I love you.Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-86694763670778207532020-01-22T11:40:00.000-06:002020-01-22T11:40:08.732-06:00The SpoonIt's a dreary day today with snow earlier this morning and intermittent rain expected all day. The sunroom is warm and inviting with the intermittent rain hitting the metal roof. We don't even have the lights on because the six sliding doors and one huge sliding window provides just the right amount of ambient light. So that's where we are, each on our electronic devices....yes, maybe they are VICES. Nonetheless, here we are. <br />
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Now that the stage is set for memories (and the fact that I just looked at our "Reminisce" magazine), let me tell you about one I had a couple days ago.<br />
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Sausage gravy had been on my mind for a while. Since neither of us are big breakfast eaters, having this dish at night just sounded like the thing to do. I was stirring the gravy with my olive wood paddle that Rhonda gave me when I suddenly remembered the spoon that was used exclusively for stirring gravy when I was a child.<br />
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The gravy spoon was a much worn old silver plated serving spoon. I say silver plated in the most generous way possible because I doubt any sort of silver analysis could find much silver. The spoon bowl itself was bent around so much that one dared not try to taste test from it. The bottom of the bowl was worn from its daily use.<br />
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Daily use you ask? Yes, daily use. Since we were a family of seven, mom always found ways to stretch her food budget (we never even thought about the word budget back in those days....it was a way to stretch food). She had five little mouths to feed and gravy filled the bill. <br />
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Do you have a favorite spoon or kitchen tool that is always used for specific meals? I have several wooden spoons that are much worn because I used them for making specific candy, stews, and even gravy. Nowadays, my olive ladle has become my favorite for making gravy. I love it, but I sure wish I had that old spoon. <br />
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I love you. Don't have the good stuff.Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-15963272429730334862019-12-03T19:21:00.001-06:002019-12-03T19:21:06.557-06:00Grandpa’s CoffeeHave you ever had a memory that seemed to pop out of nowhere? Actually, it didn’t just pop out. My daughter and I were having coffee the other morning and the coffee was too hot to drink. I took the plastic lid off to cool and thought for a moment that I might pour a sip or two into it to cool faster. That is when it hit me. I remember Grandpa Dawkins doing that very thing. He would pour a bit into his coffee from his cup into his saucer, swirl it around and sip.<br />
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I can still see Grandpa setting at their yellow dinette table with his back to the stove, but I can’t remember if Grandma drink coffee or not. What I do remember is that aluminum coffee pot that perked on the stove. As I recall it had a little glass top and you could watch the water bubble up. Eventually the water would turn brown.....not much longer.....<br />
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One of my favorite smells is coffee perking; perhaps it stems from those early breakfasts with Grandpa. Today breakfast isn’t my favorite meal, but there’s something about that getting that caffeine fix to start ones day. So most mornings you will find me relaxing in my sunroom having my brew......until the caffeine kicks in and I am off......<br />
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I love you. By the way, do you know what a saucer is? Do you own one? Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357230006685238784.post-4761645151248552382019-11-13T21:58:00.000-06:002019-11-13T21:58:27.054-06:00It Was All so MagicalIt was all so magical.<br />
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The grandchildren came tonight and I was sucked right back to 1986. They have gone home now and the feelings I had a few hours ago are beginning to wane. Before the feeling disappears altogether, I wanted to write about them. You almost had to have been here with me tonight and experienced 1986 with me first hand to understand, but trust me, it was all so magical. <br />
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The grandkids came about 4:15 p.m. which was the perfect time to catch an hour or so outside. In the house no more than an minute and the boys were off to finish up their fort that they'd started last Saturday. Little Audrey was perfectly content to stay inside and work on a craft project at the kitchen table while I fixed dinner. I looked out and the sky was just forming its pink glow into twilight and I was immediately transported back in time...<strong>it was magical</strong>; my own kids playing outside on a cool November evening as the sky turns pink, Johnny watching the news, and me in the warm kitchen fixing dinner.<br />
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Night falls, and the grandchildren come in asking what's for dinner? <strong>(Pleasant words for a grandmother.)</strong> With dinner over Blaine jumped right on his homework. <em><strong>Okay, this was NOT a memory I remember regarding my own children. It was usually a knock down drag out.</strong> </em>Logan began practicing on "Moonlight Sonata". <em><strong>Okay, maybe the 1986 memory was a little different, too, because somebody would be complaining about having to practice and the other child would be screaming for them to stop.</strong></em><br />
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It was all so magical tonight......for a minute, my own little boy was playing and my little daughter was the one working on a craft project....................<br />
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I love you...........It is all so magical. <br />
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<em>Twilight is always a magical time for me. Sometimes I forget to look up for twilight and my day slips into night without me noticing the magic. Many, many, many pleasant memories occurred at twilight for me.....bringing in the cows.......<em>dates........football games.........kids playing outside until we call them in.....<em>listening to "Prairie Home Companion"..........going to visit mom and dad....<em>the list could go on and on..............It is all so magical.</em></em></em></em><br />
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<em>Don't you wish we could harness these fleeting magical moments to pull out now and again when we began to feel sad or lonely? Oh, I guess I do.....my memories are my magic, too.</em>Reginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08057013383903277037noreply@blogger.com0