Lunch with Jeannie

Today, I had a late lunch with Jeannie, my best friend.  Jeannie and I have been friends for over ten years maybe more.  I treasure her because she is so honest and not afraid to tell me when I am wrong.  She has been gifted with a keen counseling mind.  She can access a situation, take it apart and give a handful of possible solutions.

Jeannie and I meet every month--or we try to but life gets in our way sometimes.  We were talking about things when she observed that something seemed to be getting me down.  She remarked that it was upsetting to her to see me this way.  I really didn't think I was down about anything but Dr. J picked up on it quickly.  I was hiding it for so long that I accepted it as part of my life.

I felt better after an hour unloading the burden that I had been carrying.  Another thing that I love about her is that she doesn't take me on a guilt trip about taking up so much time with my issues.  We normally don't discuss such issues but when either one of us do, the one without the issue listens and offers counseling.  We are a great team.  We are a heck of a lot cheaper than paying a psychologist!

Jeannie accepts me with my faults, no one is perfect.  We all have our faults, those things that bug some people.  Her advice: people get a life!  Accept each other faults and all.  Jeannie isn't a Christ follower but if she was, I am sure that she would reaffirm the scripture that says (ad libbing here) that you shouldn't judge your neighbor for his shortcomings until you deal with the 2x4 that is in your eye!

Good advice!

The Wall

I blog when a story comes to mind--there is no rhyme or reason to it.  Whatever the LORD brings to mind.

Late today I was listening (I very rarely watch) to a program on TV.  One of the guests had mentioned wearing the POW metal bracelet back in the sixties.  My mind started whirling on the topic...I had to sit and blog.

Back in the late sixties and early seventies, I was quite the "liberal minded hippie chick".  My dad and mom disowned me for awhile.  It was hard to accept the direction that their oldest daughter took.  I was rebellious and wanted to spread my wings and I ended up in a totally different culture than the military upbringing that I had.

It was during that time that I bought a metal POW bracelet.  I wore it faithfully and voiced my anti-war opinion much to the disapproval of my parents.  The name on the bracelet was CHARLIE B. DAVIS, tour date 4/22/70. I found out in 1998 that he was a Air Force Colonel, 45 years old when his plane was shot down by hostiles in Laos. His body was never recovered. He was married, from Kentucky and was a Southern Baptist--maybe I will meet him in Heaven.

Life went on, the bracelet was lost in the move to Oregon (another long story but not right now).  I become a conservative Christian (to my parents delight).

In 1998, I was divorced and wanted to do something worthwhile for the July 4th holiday.  I read in the paper that the "Wall That Heals", the (Vietnam Traveling Memorial wall) was going to be in Molalla and that they needed volunteers to help out.  Perfect!  I signed up and showed up to experience something that deserves more than words.

I was taken to a tent with computers on a table.  People would come up with a name and I would look it up and hand them the location of where the name was.  All was going fine when I noticed a leather outfitted long hair gentleman sitting on a Harley just outside the perimeter of where we were setup.  Time went by and he was still there.  He was had his piece of paper in his hand but seemed to be struggling to get the courage up to walk up to the wall. 

He was still there when I was all alone in the tent.  Everyone went to lunch.  Six tough looking motorcycle guys with beards and all--for sure a version of Hell's Angels.  I was scared, it was just them and me.  The biggest meanest one moved up to the table with the others right behind him.  I looked into his eyes and saw that he was barely keeping it together and choked out the name that he wanted me to look up.  My fear was gone, this was a group of men who bravely came to find their fellow man.  We shared the same compassion.

I printed out the name and information and handed it to him. Sadness fell over all of them as they solemnly left the tent.

Next came an eighty five year old woman with a bracelet on--just like I had in the 70s!  She told me she has worn this bracelet along with another bracelet since 1970.  She refused to take them off through two surgeries (they had to tape them over to proceed).  One of the men's family she had the honor of finding and giving their son's bracelet to.  She hasn't found any family of the other soldier.  She told her sons that her dying wish is that she will be buried with this bracelet on.

I was so touched by her story that I found a reporter who was nearby and told him that he had to hear her story.  She was interviewed and we were filmed for the six o'clock news that night.  I was helping her rub the impression from the stone onto a piece of paper with a pencil.

When the reporter and camera left, I noticed how quiet it was at the wall. The wall was in the middle of the high school football field.  Although there were many people there, it was oddly quiet--respect hanging in the air.  It was then that I saw him, the lone motorcycle man standing at the wall.  He squatted down. His hand pressed against the cold stone wall and a tear ran down his face.  A lone crow flies ahead piercing the silence with its cry.

After awhile I leave and sit in my car.  The experience is overwhelming--the 4th of July now has greater meaning than yesterday and for years to come.  I want to encase it in my memory forever, so, I write out a poem.....

the wall

names, fifty thousand plus names
one after another on a wall to which he came.
squatting down, he reaches out to touch just one
holding on to all that is left of a friend or a son.

the silence is torn by a blackbird's cry
still he sits while people walk solemnly by
the name reaches deep inside his being
to his troubled soul comes a flood of healing.

still one with the ebony wall, he slowly lowers his head
his pain distant, i stand still without a word said.
above a lone firecracker explodes in the clouded cobalt blue sky
a tribute to a single name and to a man whose love for it did not die.

Harold

I don't know why but lately I have been thinking of my former father-in-law, Harold.  Harold was so much like my dad.  They were both from Arkansas, both stubborn and both barks were worse than their bite.  I loved him from the start, he was grumpy in a lovable way. Just like my dad. When my dad passed away, Harold told me that he would be proud to be my dad now.  I took him up on that.

He adored Alison, called her "Alley Cat" which she finally got used to.  We would come over and visit about the same time in the evening. Alison would crawl up on his lap (she was five or so) and they would watch "Tom & Jerry", the cartoon.  Harold enjoyed this time watching and laughing with her.  He turned into the softie that I knew and loved.  It is funny that Grace loves "Tom & Jerry" and will pick that cartoon above others.

When I asked for a divorce from Gary, his step son, he turned on me.  I became the "bitch" (his words, not mine). It hurt deep to lose him.  Actions do have consequences, I suppose.  Like others, he knew the marriage was dead, there was nothing left.  I don't carry the guilt anymore, I am forgiven and healed.

The Thursday before Father's Day the following year, my sister-in-law, Bonnie fell outside a restaurant.  She went into a four hour coma.  The only reason I knew was that Human Resources at work called me since they couldn't get ahold of Gary, he was in Washington.  I called Ardis (Harold's wife) for more details.  She wanted to go to Bonnie but Harold and his son, Ron, were in the middle of installing a water heater and couldn't leave.  I told her I'd come by and get her and take her to the hospital.

When I got there, Harold met me and thanked me over and over for coming to help her.  He hugged me and I felt so good.  This was his way of telling me all is forgiven.

Bonnie came out of the coma and was fine.  The following Sunday was Father's Day.  I really wanted to go and visit Harold but I felt that that was the family's day with him.  I would go on the next day, Monday.

What happened is a blurr after my phone rang on Sunday.  I can't remember but I think it was Bonnie who told me that they were all going to go to dinner when Harold stood up, took a couple of steps and fell over dead from a heart attack.  I drove to their home to find everyone in shock, Harold was still on the floor flat on his back, eyes closed like he was asleep.  Since it was Father's Day, the coroner was hard to get ahold of.  It was hours before anyone showed.   I hugged Ardis, Bonnie and other family members that I can't remember, offered my help and left in shock.

I did come back to help the next day with errands.  I had to wait for awhile since Ardis and Bonnie were at the funeral home.  While I waited, I had the urge to write a poem.  When I was going through counseling before the divorce, my counselor suggested that I write in a diary to deal with my emotional state. I hate diaries, so, I negotiated writing poetry. 

On the day of the funeral, I bought a single red rose.  I typed the poem that I wrote on parchment paper, rolled it up like a scroll and tied it with a ribbon onto the rose.  When we were all walking by the casket, I placed the rose ontop, looked at him, cried, and said goodbye.

I was asked to come to the house afterwards. Ardis had a basement den where everyone went.  All the flowers were in the upstairs livingroom.  I saw the rose there with the poem still intact.  After mingling awhile, it was time to leave.  I almost made it out the door when Ron, Harold's son, grabbed my arm.  He was holding the opened scroll and tears were in his eyes.  He said, choking on tears, "I thought the florist did the poem....I read all the way to the bottom and saw it was you...it is so touching, thanks." Then he hugged me.  Ron had always been distant and for a moment we were close as siblings.

This is the poem (all lower case intentionally):

to harold,

the dark clouds torment the daylight

this solemn space frozen in time

i sit motionless with emotions held in tight

hearing words dissolve in the air like an ocean mist

 

reflections in a pool of memories form

splashes of laughter for just my eyes to see

your wrinkled brow of fatherly concern

other tiny expressions of love known only to me

 

He took my father away years ago

with compassion He brought you into my life

thru the years my love for you did slowly grow

regardless of moments of short lived strife

 

my choices shattered the image i held in your eyes

tearing the shared respect and love for awhile

then our paths crossed again taking away the despise

I warmed to see sincerity and hope reflected in your smile

 

gently i place a single rose atop the cold pine

eternal sleep now the only possession you own

a warm tear on my face travels down an invisible line

turning, i walk away............alone

 

love, dena

Black Friday

It is 4:45 in the morning on Black Friday--yes, I said in the morning.  I am standing in a line in front of Fred Meyers.  Normally, I would be fast asleep but I am on a mission.  Alison asked if I could pick up a Nintendo game for the kids.  Normally $19.99 but today it is $9.99.  Okay, yes, this is crazy but my grandchildren are worth it.  The name of it is "Scribblenauts".  I bought one similar to it a couple of years ago for Hunter (not at this ungodly hour back then).  It helped Hunter write better and I am sure that this updated version will help Grace--who is writing now.  Grace loves to write lists!

Back to me standing in the line.  I watch as more and more people come.  The line is getting fatter not longer (note to self:  have a friend go early and save a place in line).  But it is okay, I am warm and like to people watch.  There are a handful of female students in front of me who talk about the week of finals.  One loud guy who is out for a big screen TV, some middle age women sipping their Starbucks and fidgeting to keep warm.  The husbands are standing next to their wives with the "I can't believe I am doing this" look on their faces.  One guy says his wife and him haven't slept--they have been going since 9pm yesterday shopping. Now THAT is insane!

I tell the gal behind me that my hubby asked me to bring home some donut holes for him.  They give out donut holes and coffee for the early birds.  I told her that I told him, "You don't get the goods unless you do the time in the line!"  Enough said. 

The doors open and it is a rush in.  I head to the electronics department and so do half of the people who were outside with me--I thought that they wanted the socks!!  Oh well, I squeeze by the crowds in the small space of a department back to the Nintendo DS games.  Luck has it, I get the next to the last one!  Holding tightly onto my precious cargo, I make my way to a line.  There are several long ones, I find a short one.  It is too early for me to remember that the short line isn't always the fastest line--twenty minutes later I pay for my treasure.

Things have calmed down a little in the rest of the store.  I meander to the socks--I get three pairs of Gold Toe socks.  The reason I get those is that Wayne gets upset when I borrow his.  I find three pretty pairs so that I don't mistakenly wear his.  Next, my bath salts are on sale, buy one get one free.  I grab a couple and head to the checkout.  To my amazement, there is no one in the line!

Outside the parking lot, I throw my stuff in the back, breathe and drive off home. I lived through another Black Friday!  My bed is calling me back.

Thanksgiving

I am thankful for my LORD and Savior!  I cannot make it through the day without Him!  He forgives me completely when others find it hard to.  He showers me with blessings daily.  He gives me rain to make me stronger to face the storms in my life.  He never leaves me even when I go down the wrong path.  He gave His Life for me and I am forever grateful.

I am thankful for my family: my mom, sister, brother, my hubby, daughter, step-daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren. You bring out the best in me and my love grows for each of you!  I am truly blessed by your love as well.

I am thankful for my prayer warriors, Ken and Carolyn.  You lift me up to Him with so many prayers!  I feel those prayers daily and am so grateful for their cover!  You are my spiritual parents-I love both of you as my own parents.

I am thankful for my friends: Jeannie, Pam and all my TOPS friends. A shoulder or two to cry on or laugh with.  Support and encouragement.  I treasure all of you!

I am thankful for those in the military who are serving overseas.  I cover you with my prayers for protection. You give up your freedom and sacrific daily to ensure that all of us have our freedoms.

I am thankful for health.  I am grateful to be able to live my life to the fullest.

I am thankful for food and shelter.  I am warm, safe and not hungry.

I am thankful for His provisions of all the above.

Each day is a gift! To be thankful for everything and everyone just one day a year isn't enough.  If we spend only one day a year giving thanks we are missing out on 364 gifts each year.

I resolve to find at least one thing to be thankful for each day and celebrate!  There are too many things each day to get depressed about and I won't let those things become a "Joy Robber"!


 

Our "Thanksgiving" Dinner

This year we started something new.  Instead of Thanksgiving dinner on Thanksgiving, we went to Gustavs for dinner the night before.  Leslea is is Utah with her new family.  Alison has her family traditions to start...it is time to let go.  It is alright.  I am good with it but don't take my Christmas Eve morning away from me.  That is my family time when the kids come over in pjs, we have breakfast, Santa comes and goes, and we open gifts. 

I love weinerschnizel!  So, I was content to have that for dinner.  Maybe next year we will do actual Thanksgiving dinner on Thanksgiving at Gustavs.  On Thanksgiving, I will put a turkey in the oven and we can have leftovers--you have to have them!!

I put up my Christmas decorations last Tuesday when the kids were here.  I was going to save it for Thanksgiving but I am glad we did it early with them--it was a lot of fun!

It is a different Thanksgiving and that is ok.  Maybe one of these years when Alison and Larry get a bigger house and if Leslea and Bob move here, we can go to their houses for Thanksgiving.  Sounds nice.....but I am still going for weinerschnizel also--sometime before Thanksgiving--it is so yummy for a nice treat!

Sean & Sarah

Yesterday was our Special Olympics Bowling Regional!  My bowlers have trained hard and long for this day.  We were there from 7:30 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.--a long day but worth it!  My bowlers did awesome!  I don't look at the number of medals or ribbons, I look at sportsmanship and there was a lot of that happening.  I stress to my athletes, sportsmanship over winning.  If you win with a "greater than thou" attitude, you have lost in my eyes.

Two stories from yesterday made an impact in my day:  Sean and Sarah.

First, Sean, who is about 35 years old though he is only 8 years old mentally and has Down Syndrome.  He is always one to come up and give me a hug and to be positive.  After going down to the lane where he would be bowling came up to me and was worried. "Dana, I have to bowl with those guys?" I replied "Yes."  "But they are bigger than me."  "Sean" I said in my soft voice, "You are bowling with these guys because you bowl the same as them."  "But....they are bigger than me."  "Sean, you can do this, focus on your game, you can beat these guys, don't look at them.  I believe I you, you can do this."  He looked me in the eyes, "You believe I can?"  "Yes!" I replied, "I know you can!"  He fidgeted a little and murmured, "OK, I will try to win."

With that, I left him to bowl.  I had 35 more bowlers to get going in his squad (we had 3 squads that day).  As the games progressed, I walk up and down checking on each bowler to see how they were doing.  I didn't look at scores, I looked at the bowler.  Sean looked good and so, I moved onto the next bowler. Awards were being handed out and I have learned to stay put at my table and wait for my athletes to come to me.

And then it happened!  Sean came running to me holding his gold medal out front, yelling, "Dana! Dana!! I did it!!"  I ran to him and hugged him and he was beaming.  "I knew that you could do it!!"

Second, Sarah.  Sarah is in her twenties with Down Syndrome. She works at Goodwill in Sandy.  A sweetheart--always a smile on her face and a warm greeting.

After my hugs from Sean, I was in front of the lanes where Sarah bowled.  They were waiting for their awards.  There are the medals (Gold, Silver and Bronze). All bowlers hope to get them. The ribbons are for 4th through 8th. I have always told my bowlers that I am just as proud of them if they get a ribbon as if they get a medal. 

I knew that Sarah had tough competition since I had walked by a number of times and had seen what was happening on her lanes. Still that infectious smile was there and I knew all was good.

The awards were handed out.  Sarah received a fourth place ribbon.  Instantly the smile was gone and a frown on her face.  Her parents hugged her and said that she did well but it didn't seem to matter.  Her fellow bowlers did the same and the same result happened.  I was standing watching all this and then I moved in on the little crowd.  I swooped up Sarah with a big hug!  I held on to her and looked her in the eyes and said, "Sarah!  I am SOOO proud of you!!" and I said it with all honesty.  The smile reappeared and she asked, "Really?"  "Yes!" I said, "You had tough competition but you hung in there!  You should be proud of that 4th place!! I am!"  The parents shot me a warm smile that said thank you.  My Sarah had her smile back and I couldn't be happier.

In these two stories, the LORD taught me two lessons. 

First, with Sean, sometimes my fears conquer me before I let Him be victorious.  He believes I can do it and I must stretch my faith and believe that I can do it but only with His support.

Second, with Sarah, sometimes when the world sees I have failed, the LORD sees the bigger picture and sees the bigger victory.  Sometimes, the gold won't please Him but getting a ribbon without quitting, meeting the challenge, and claiming the victory that is His is what delights the LORD.

I am always amazed at the lessons I learned through these athletes.  They are truly His angels on earth.

Priorities

Something to think about—another Face Book story.  I have heard this before and it still is so true.  It is still all about priorities!

 

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “yes.”

The professor then produced two Beers from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

“Now,” said the professor as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things---your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions---and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car. The sand is everything else---the small stuff.”

 “If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life.

If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.

Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and mow the lawn.

Take care of the golf balls first---the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the Beer represented. The professor smiled and said, “I”m glad you asked.” The Beer just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there”s always room f or a couple of Beers with a friend.

Hunter's Thanksgiving Feast

Today I was asked to go to Hunter's class Thanksgiving Feast.  I volunteered to do the whole day.  I figured chances like this don't come by very often and I was definitely going to give it my all!  Mrs. Rogers (Mrs R from now on)  greeted me and told me that Brian's (can't remember his name but it started it a "B") 9th generation grandma had the first recorded birth after the Mayflower landed--a little girl named "Oceania".  His grand-dad was there with me and two other moms.  I told her that Hunter's 10th generation grand-dad, John Vassail, owned and built the Mayflower--she was so excited about the fact that two of her Kindergarteners had relatives involved with the Mayflower!

I found this out when I did the genealogy for my dad's side.  John Vassall, a Hugenot fled to England a few years before the massacre by Catholics on St. Bartholomew's Day in August 1572.  I really need to get back to my genealogy and complete my mom's side.

So, Mrs. R announced this all (minus the massacre story) to the kids.



Before the story, we helped the kids make pilgrim hats and bonnets.  Each Kindergartener has one "Buddy", a third grader who is their buddy through the year.  They come into the classroom now and then and also join them on the playground befriending them as a buddy.  I think it is a great idea!


The "Buddies" (with the Indian bands) brought  a game with them to share with the "Pilgrims and the Bonnet girls".  It was a game with stones painted with a star or a moon.  The child shook the stones and threw them down and counted only the stars.  They put one mark per star on their piece of paper and took turns around the circle until one had a total of ten stars--they were the winner.  I was with Hunter briefly and left to another group to give him his "space".  All the groups had a lot of fun.  Hunter didn't win but was cool with that.

Next they made pasta noodle necklaces after Mrs. R explained that the Indians would trade with the Pilgrims necklaces, furs and food.

Each table had bowls of colored pasta with which they would thread onto the ribbon and then the adults helped with tying together with a tag with their names. 

Hunter loved the fact you can do more with pasta than just eat it!

 

 

Speaking of eating....the feast was next!  They drank apple juice (which I brought :), ate popcorn and cranraisins.  The kids kept the adults hopping!

 

 

This year we don't have a traditional family dinner. Larry is home but a short time.  Alison and him have their own traditional family dinner.  It is time for us to let go, it is time for Alison (and Leslea) to begin her family traditions and time for us to start a new one.  We decided to go to Gustavs for dinner Wednesday night. Wayne and I will cook a turkey the next day--gotta have the leftovers!  I am looking forward to dinner out and just vegging Thanksgiving.

 

I am so blessed to share in todays special Thanksgiving Feast with a bunch of special Kindergarteners and one Super Special Grandson!  Hunter, Nana loves you more than the number of stars in the sky and the number of sand grains in the ocean!!

 



The Story of the Donkey

Once in awhile, Facebook has a post that I take the time to copy.  I found the following story.  It struck me how I need to be a little like the donkey in the story.  I need to not react in panic.  I need to access my situation, find a way to use all the negative thrown at me and use my energy to turn it into something positive to get myself out of a situation that I have no choice being in. I need to shake it off and step up!

The Story:

One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally, he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey.

He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement he quieted down.

A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up.

As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off!

MORAL :

Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a steppingstone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.

 Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

 1. Free your heart from hatred - Forgive.
 2. Free your mind from worries - Most never happens.
 3. Live simply and appreciate what you have.
 4. Give more.
 5. Expect less from people but more from yourself.

Bowling with Hunter!

Hunter has been asking to go bowling but our schedule with Special Olympics has made it difficult to do.  Today, we were driving to school and Hunter brought up the subject and he asked me if I could come by his house and maybe we could have a "Nana & Me" time.  I was elated that he brought it up.  I told him that Mama would need to ok it.  He said she said it would be ok.  I told him that I would have to check on that and maybe we could do it soon.

After lunch, Hunter brought up bowling again.  I thought, why not today?  Grace hasn't been taking naps so, she might be open to it.  Wayne unfortunately has a pain in his knee and he can barely walk so, he will have to sit and wait for us to finish.

So off we go to the bowling alley.  Within a block of the bowling alley, Grace fell asleep.  Out cold!  When we got to the alley, Wayne stayed out in the car with a sleeping Grace.  Hunter and I went in and had the time all to ourselves!  I talked Hunter into bowling without the ramp but use the bumpers.  He was open to that and I showed him how to roll the ball.  He did well.

Hunter usually has a meltdown when he loses but he was great.  I told him that this is practice not competition and he was good with that.  I didn't do that bad the first four frames--I had either a spare or strike in each and then....my knee reminded me that it doesn't like this kind of movement.  I went downhill fast--that God for bumpers.  I finished 125, Hunter 85. 

Hunter was so entertaining bowling.  He would lay down on the lane and eye the bowling ball with pins like a golf shot.  When he bowled he would squat down or lean over in a squat waiting for the pins to go down.  I had to hold back my laughter!

We high fived each other and had an awesome time.  Grace and Wayne appeared when we finished our first game.  Grace didn't like the bowling shoes and their color so, I told her she couldn't bowl without wearing them.  Grace decided fashion was more important and sat this one out.  But she kept track of the score for Hunter and gave him his milk every time he bowled--for energy she said!

We all had a great time and Nana and Hunter had their "Nana & Me time"!

Today was my birthday!

Well, only in the eyes of my grandchildren.  This morning, Hunter and Grace took out the Melissa & Doug wooden pizza with toppings, the wooden birthday cake with candles and topping, the wooden cookies with icing, and the wooden donut kit.

Hunter sat about making ovens out of empty boxes on the floor in their room (used to be Wayne's but he still has a small corner that he can claim).  He was busy "baking" and "cooking".  Grace announced that this was their kitchen and that Gramps and I have to be seated in the "restaurant" (aka our dining room table).  She proceeded to escort us to our table and pulled out my chair and gave a "Vanna White" motion for me to sit down. 

She announced it was Nana's birthday and what would I like on my pizza?  My little waitress went back to their "kitchen" and yelled at the chef (aka Hunter) that I wanted pizza with pepperoni and green peppers.  Things were quiet for awhile when suddenly Hunter appeared and said, "we have green and red peppers on our pizza, will that be OK?"  To which I said OK.

Then my little waitress came with my pizza and two cookies.  She told me that I didn't have to pay for the dinner because it was my birthday but Gramps has too, it isn't his birthday.  So I pretended and so did Wayne to eat our wooden pizza and cookies, saying yummo every now and then.

Grace reappeared with pieces of the wooden cake with a wooden candle in mine.  She ran back to the "kitchen" and brought out "Chef Hunter".  They both stood there and sang "Happy Birthday, Nana!"  I almost cried, it was so sweet! 

Grace told me that I could pick out a "present" from her sticker box. Sigh.  What great kids!

Another blessing to fold up and keep in my heart forever.

"Count your blessings, not your bruises."

My "Littlest Fan"

After the Pizza Party, I had the idea to give Alison a break from the kids.  So, we stopped by their house and let Alison go shopping for some "me" time for her.  Grace was having quiet time watching TV while Hunter was on the computer.  I happened to bring the drawing that I was working on for the Christmas card this year of them and the cats.

Wayne had sat down on the couch near Grace and wanted to know if he could use her stuffed monkey (one of those you warm up in the microwave to snuggle up with to sleep) on his knee since he was hobbling and hurting.  Grace volunteered to ask Hunter to see if he could let Gramps use it since he wasn't using it and she was using her monkey.

She proceeded to get it and after I microwaved it, she placed it gently on Gramps' knee.  Shortly after that, Wayne was fast asleep. Since Grace was bored and noticed I was drawing, she made her way to the table to see what I was doing.

She asked if she could have quiet time at the table and watch me too. I said ok.  She proceeded to tell me that the picture had Hunter and her in it.  She recognized Olivia and Sam our cats but she wanted to know what was on Colby's head.  Colby passed away last summer and so I told her that that was a halo that he got when he went to heaven.

Grace perked up and said that Jesus lets Colby come and protect Hunter and her and fight the bad guys away.  That Jesus takes care of Colby.  Sigh, love that little girl!  Then she got that "bright idea" look on her face--"Maybe Jesus could take Sam to heaven cos he fights too!"  "One of these days, Jesus will do that but for now, Sam has to wait,"I said with a grin.

Then she sat there for a whole ten minutes quiet watching me crosshatch shadows on the drawing with my technical drawing pens.  She offered me her color crayons since I forgot a couple of areas that needed color.  "Thanks," I replied "but, Nana has "special crayons" that I use."  "Oh," she said with a puzzled look.  I told her that I would share them with her some other time and that brought a smile.

She sat quietly and watched like she was memorizing every stroke just like her mama did when she was little.  Alison is a great artist and one of this days, I hope she picks it up again.

But for now, I think we have a little artist and this Nana is gonna encourage her as much as possible.

Kevin's Gift

Today was our Pizza Party for Special Olympics Bowlers.  All 85 plus their coaches, caregivers and parents came to Jimmy O's to celebrate.  We took over the place.  I made award certificates with their team pictures and individual pictures of them holding their bowling ball.  The certificate had their name on it.  We usually have trophies but since finances are tight for us and those who in the past donated, I decided on a less expensive award.  The athletes loved them!

A couple of the coaches gave me gifts of appreciation. Leslie gave me some beautiful autumn flowers and MaryAnn gave me a homemade warming pad (the kind with rice in it that you warm up in the microwave).

MaryAnn just gave me her gift when I noticed out of the corner of my eye, one of my bowlers, Kevin, waiting patiently with a gift bag.

Kevin is "my guy".  I have know Kevin since coaching him in Basketball many years ago and he also worked at the college in my print shop for awhile.  He has had a crush on me since then.  He was broken hearted when I announced my engagement to Wayne at Track practice.  To make it for it, he was one of the guys I danced with at my wedding to the song "My Girl".  He was beaming dancing with me in his tux.

He handed me the gift and I saw it was a tied blanket.  I thought his mom had made it but then I pulled it out and noticed that the top side was backwards (if you look at the picture, the words are backwards). I knew it had to be Kevin.  I asked him, "Did you make this for me?"  He stood there beaming and nodding his head.  I was THRILLED!!!  I hugged him and my blanket and just beamed more than him.  I was so touched by him taking time to tie the blanket together and it was a bowling pattern!!  Later, I found out from Wayne who was standing with Kev's mom that she said that he had the idea and picked it the fabric himself and worked at it everyday until it was completed.

I love this gift--and the words being backwards are so special!!  I am so blessed!  This made up for a rough week and helps so much with my 90% attitude (see next blog).  Love you,  Kev!!!

Attitude

After the election, I was majorly depressed.  I feared the worse for our county, my family, my grandchildren and still do.  However, I came across the following quote.  It is about attitude.  Though I still have moments of fear, I do know how the story ends.  The LORD is still in control and I trust Him and Him alone.  I will once again try to make my 90% reaction a positive one.

 

The quote:

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.

Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do.

It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home.

The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day.

We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way.

We cannot change the inevitable.

The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude.

I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it.

And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.”

Charles R. Swindoll

Catch UP!

Whoa!  It has been a couple of months since I blogged!  Things have been busy with Leslea & Bob's wedding and Special Olympics and recovering from my "fall".  I am not going to try to fit into this blog recaps of what happened the past months--I will save those to appear later.  But just to say, Leslea's wedding was beautiful!  I was glad we were there and we had a great time.  Also, I was able to go on both Hunter's and Grace's pumpkin patch field trips with their schools--wonderful memories!  I will share more later. 

We have survived Wayne's unemployment well.  He volunteers at the Hunter's Kindergarten and thoroughly loves it!  He is helping the kids who really need the help.  Hunter is way above the class in skill levels but seems to enjoy Gramps being there.  Though he lets Gramps know when he (Hunter) needs his space and Wayne takes the day off.

We are proud of both grandkids.  Hunter loves Kindergarten and Grace loves Preschool (it has cool projects and art!)

Special Olympics is about over--I can't believe it has gone so quick--having a wedding and a wedding reception in the beginning helped I think!

I will try better about blogging.