Shape Up!

 Check it out if you want a chuckle. My latest story is on line and in print in Colorado. 

You can read it at PrairieTimes.com

Click on the current issue and scroll down to page 7. I hope you enjoy reading about my attempt to shape up.

Single, double almost a triple!

 We went to Arby's for lunch. Ordered a market fresh turkey, cheese and bacon on whole grain, with curly fries. Normally my honey and I split. Gone are the days when we could each eat an entire sandwich.

Unwrapped the sandwich and it was a Reuben. Took it back and they said to keep it and eat it. They would prepare our order correctly and bring it to us.

The big guy munched. Half way through, the sandwich preparer, an older woman brought the correct sandwich to our table. As we were finishing up, the counter person, a very polite and friendly older man brought another turkey sandwich and apologized for not getting to us sooner. 

We told him we received our replaced sandwich already. He was ready to say, "Keep it! Eat it!" But he saw me going to protest, and said, "Well okay then. I will take care of it."

I hope he ate it and didn't throw it away. 

Odds and Ends, some more odd than others

 We went to visit baby Jackson yesterday. He is at a darling age, 20 months. His little brain is always going. It is amazing how he can figure things out. 

He said, "Paw Paw" much to Bill's delight. And he giggled when we chased him. He really is a joy and we feel blessed to be able to spend time with him. 

On our way home we stopped at Taco Bell. We were the only eat-in customers. The highschool-age young man and woman gave us our orders, then grabbed electric scooters they had stashed under a booth and LEFT. Customers came in, called for counter service, used the kiosk, but got no reply. Bill and I saw those two kids zooming across the street and riding on a busy parking lot for about ten minutes. Then they returned and said to the waiting customers, "Oh, nobody here? We can help you."

HELLO! 

I am decades past hot flashes, and fortunately, I went through the symptoms in less than six months. But today I was doing a crossword puzzle when I felt as if I was boiling from the inside out. Perspiration dripped from my brow, and then I had a full blown roaster.

My granddaughter texted me, "I just had the worst hot flash of my life. I had to take a shower." 

Enough of these intuned sympathy symptoms!

Down for the count

 I got stuck. Yes, stuck!

No, my skin was not pierced in any way, by any object. 

I got stuck in a sitting position on the bathroom floor, after tightening the plastic nut or bolt or maybe both on the toilet seat which shifts while a sitter is sitting. It is annoying!

So while I was on the floor, I grabbed the Clorox Wipes and scrubbed the tile floor, the base of the tub and commode, and while I was on a roll, I decided to wipe the pink wall tiles circa 1950
underneath the sink. 

Proud of my spiffy clean powder room, I tried to stand up to observe and take it all in. But I was all stuck on the floor and couldn't move up, down, or even turn around. It is a small 5'x5' floor space bathroom. And getting up on my knees was impossible. 

I yelled for the big guy, but when he came to my aid, all he could do was laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

He tugged my arm until it was almost out of socket.

He told me to roll onto my left side and grab the tub. I rolled onto that hunk of metal I refer to as my metal hippy and yelped. It took us five minutes or more to position me with one leg back, one tucked under... plus a size twelve shoe "jack" under my wide carriage to get me up off that floor high enough to reach a bathtub grab bar.

My high school friend, Pat, moved away. We talked on the phone the other day. She asked when I decided I was old. I told her I know I am old, but I don't think I'm old, because I am mobile and in pretty good health. I get around and don't take prescriptions.

Well Pat, as of today...I consider myself old!

Older-than-me-Chuckles is having his hey day everytime I walk past him. I told him, "You just wait!" His half bath is half the size of mine!

In Our City There is an Unbelievable Museum

What a remarkable, fun, interesting place to explore. The late Bob Cassily was a visonary and artist who built an architectual playground. It features tunnels, a ten story spiral slide, and climbing structures for all ages. There is an insectarium dedicated to my son-in law, George Diehl, who donated his collections when he retired from the City Museum. There is an aquarium, a live circus performance, a small train to ride, an antique Merry Go 'Round, and so much more. 

 

Ever-evolving and changing exhibits. The greatest attractions are on the roof, where there is a school bus and airplane welded, teetering off the edge, that kids can enter. So many steep slides and screen- encased adult sized (hamspter-like) tunnels to climb through high up in the open air...yes in the sky!

Click on the pictures to enlarge.

Great grandsons, Liam, Alex, and Charlie had no idea what to expect, but soon discoverd so many areas and unbelievable attractions where they could walk through a giant whale, climb under the floor in a tunnel with port holes above in the floor, so adults could see their children as they slithered to the belly of the whale across the room.   

Liam liked running on this centrifuge ( I think that is what it's called). It reminded me of those gadgets where you donate coins and watch them spin all the way to the drop off. I imagine that one time shoes barreled down there. Who knows?

No, these three explorers were not under water in the auarium as Alex's pose demonstrates.

 Caves and tree roots to climb through, steep slides to drop down at "a million miles an hour."

The world's largest pencil and a retro arcade that featured pin ball machines, Pac Man and Frogger, and air hockey games. The boys could hardly stand still long enough to play there. They were bodies in motion. Swinging on ropes, jumping, leaping...

The two oldest wanted to go on the roof, which we did not purchase tickets for, because Charlie announced loudly and emphatically he was NOT going up there or sliding, climbing, or dangling from a school bus. However by the time we left, he wanted to do everything. Too late.

They had such a wonderful time. I am certain this is a memory that will last a lifetime. They asked if I could start saving money for the next time. LOL.

The City Museum is for "kids" people of all ages.  Poor Charlie developed strep throat as a result of being around so many people (germs), but his antibiotic is knocking it. What an adventure!

Oh, did I participate? No, I observed, and if you think it is easy watching three boys going in all directions, it was alarming. But I can always depend on Liam, who just turned 12. He told me he is more than half way to being an adult. He corraled his brothers and checked in with me as I sat on boulders, granite piers, machinery etc that once served different purposes. That place was jam packed.

Do my Do My Way

 I just wrote a true story about how my mood is affected by my mane. When I need a color or cut I get cranky. These days my color is fading faster than my desire for veggies. Give me Bryer's Chocolate Ice Cream with Truffles.

So today I stopped in Great Clips for a hair cut because I was irritated by my bangs falling in my eyes. I told the hairdresser the last time I was there, the other beautician thinned the back of my hair. 

She said, "That makes it look fuzzy." 

I said, "I don't care. I'd rather have frizzy than bushy." She replied, "NOT ME!" 

She was quickly getting on my last nerve when a couple walked in. He sat in the next chair. The hairdresser asked him what he wanted. He replied, "Cut it short. All over!"

His female companion shouted, "NO! Leave his sideburns. That's the only part I like about his hair."

I wonder if Taylor and Travis will ever get to that point? 

My mood has changed immensely, and I like my new do... even the little frizzy in back.

What a Day!

 The 4th of July blast seemed like a bust. The weather canceled lots of celebrations, events, and fireworks. Overall, I think the climate and world situation felt like a pall hanging over the nation. Not many folks displayed flags or sported patriotic tee shirts. Picnics and parades got rained or flooded out. 

We went to see the baby, an hour away. A thunderstorm darkened the sky, lightning crackled and thunder boomed. Sixty m.p.h. wind zoomed the patio furniture across the deck as easlily as Jackson tossing a small toy. Thankfully it passed over soon. 

Then the phone calls started coming. Our neighbors called to announce a loud boom resonated from our back yard. There is a transformer on a pole behind our house. Out of power was the message from all callers. Power restoration: undetermined.

We returned home in the evening. No electricity. No trees downed. We have powerful room illuminating flash lights. But it was HOT, too hot to sleep. How did we ever do it without air conditioning in our early years?

We couldn't watch the Capitol Patriotic Fourth music and events on TV. I couldn't finish writing an article I needed to. As much as I get aggravated with and swear at my computer, even sweet talk didn't make it flicker. And my phone slowly croaked.

Bill harrumphed at the fridge and said, "I'm just going to sit and rest in the livingroom." He went to his power recliner, which he had left in the vertical upright lift position. "Guess I learned a lesson!" he said when he could not sit in his most comfy easy in and out chair.

We lost electricity, a refrigerator full of food, and almost our minds because we are dependent upon our "necessities." We were inconveinenced for 24 hours. I am so thankful for our many blessings.

My heart breaks for people across the world who deal with war and disasters daily. It upsets me to hear, "God bless the USA." Why can't we say, God bless us one and all?!

Oh he knew what he meant!

This is the man who loves the little boy who looks just like him and his first grandson.

Great grandson Jackson has been leery around Bill, keeping his distance. Last time he warmed up a little, but this time when he visited, Jackson ran right to PawPaw Bill, and the roughhousing, giggling, and playfulness began, much to Bill's delight!

 The cutest thing this little doll did was imitate his grandma and great grandpa. They were at the table looking at a document, touching columns and talking about details. Jackson climbed up on the table and sat right in the middle. He watched them, looking from one to the other as they conversed. 

 He waited for a pause, then he took his pointer finger and touched the document, too, babbling away to one, and then the other. We might have a little genious on our hands. He is a smart one. Wait until he starts talking!

Father's Day

We had a nice visit at Kyle and Abby's farm on Father's Day. A new calf was born. It rained for a while, but we were dry in the event barn. Bill's daughter, Robin, is known as G-maw to Jackson. She surprised him with a bubble gun. He had as much fun as we did blowing and catching bubbles.

        

He wanted more-more-more, and giggled when we blew them at him. He is walking all over and investigating everything. He blew bubbles and played with a little noisy police car that we brought him. He sure is a loved little boy.

ESPECIALLY by Paw-Paw Bill and Nana!

 If  you or someone you know is interested in Star Wars, Chicken Soup will be producing a book for the 50th birthday next year. They are seeking stories now. If you have a Star Wars story, write it up. If you want me to take a look before you send it off to their website, let me know. 500- 1,000 words.

As the sun sets

The vibrant sunset reminded me that I am blessed to be active, in good health and happy in my sunset years.  I love babysitting my great grandsons.

I had the urge to capture every fun moment with them. Charlie will be
8 next month and has a sense of humor and an imagination out of this world.

Liam just turned 12. He loves Pokemon cards. He is a deep thinker and claims he is more than half way to being an adult, and he deserves more privileges. 

Alex will be nine this summer. He builds fantatstic structures.  He is determined and has a mind of his own.

 They played tag on the front lawn until 9:30 p.m.

Long after the sun goes down on us...I hope they will remember fun times with Nana and Grandpa.

Dementia: Care for the Caregiver

 I’m so honored to have my story in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Care for the Caregiver. From someone who’s been there, I know caring for someone with dementia can be overwhelming, but these stories provide comfort, practical advice, and comic relief because self-care isn’t selfish, it’s essential. 

Release date is June 23rd and books are available on line and anywhere books are sold.

 I was a regular caregiver for my parents as they aged. Thankfully they lived nearby and I saw them almost everyday.

My story is about caring for my stepdad after Mom passed away. Pops thought a meal was peanut butter smeared on saltine crackers and a handful of M&Ms. 

My story details my experiences of having to make a difficult decision. M&Ms played a part in this story. 

Interested in winning a copy? If you are within the United States I will put your name in for a drawing and if it is yours, I will send you a copy of the book. Note, If you cannot reply on this blog, visit my facebook page, say you want to be in the drawing, and I will combine all names (from the blog and the FB page) draw one, and mail the winner. Thank you for your support. 

Unconventional treatment

Bill had a doctor appointment yesterday, and I went with him. We love our young, personable, knowledgeable, and fun, primary care doctor. As soon as she walked into the exam room I asked how to treat chiggers.

She said a topical anti-itch cream should do it.

I pointed to Bill's open wound on his shin and told her his preferred treatment is to scratch the bites open and douse with alcohol. She looked at me in disbelief.

I nodded and said, "I told him, but he won't listen."

She said, "Scratching can cause an infection."

He chuckled, looked her in the eye and said, 
"Not with alcohol!"

She shook her head and said, "And do you let the dog lick your wounds? That was what my grandpa always said worked to heal his."

I think she thinks of Bill as her grandpa. 

Never a dull moment with my funny honey.

Do you recall Betsy McCall?

I am proud to announce that my story, The Great Pretenders, is on line and in print at Prairietimes.com a local publication in Colorado.

My story details the summer of my tenth year, when my year-younger brother and I discovered a paper company in our neighborhood. We walked in and asked the receptionist if we could have a pack of paper and colored index cards.

She called the plant manager, a grumpy old man who scared me when he barked, "Why should I give it to you?"

I replied, "So we can stay busy all summer and not bother our mom. We will use it to make paper dolls like Betsy McCall, from the McCall's Magazine, and my brother can make furniture for her with the cards."

The boss said, "Well if I give it to you, you better not come back or tell your friends."

"Thank you. We won't." I said wide-eyed and surprised to receive a ream of paper. 

Do you recall paper dolls with those flimsy tabs on their clothing to attach to the dolls? Never stayed, and often tore off. How I loved Betsy's stories, and her variety of clothing in each issue. 

Such were the days for my brother and me. He has always had an engineer's brain. He made marvelous three dimensional couches, beds, chairs etc. for my paper dolls.

We also made mud pies, but that is a story for another time.

Slow down, time!

 

Nicholas and Nicole

Nana's sweethearts have grown up. They are 18 and 24. Nicole just graduated. Nick sat next to me at the graduation ceremony. 

I so appreciate them now that they are adults. Nick had me in stitches laughing at his work stories and adventures. He is as outspoken as his dad, my son, and his mom, my daughter-in-law who have reared wonderful children. A job well done! 

 I cannot believe how fast the years have flown. I look back on his baby days, his school days, and now his work days. I am proud of him and his work ethic, his devotion to family, God, friends. 

He has to travel frequently, but when he is in town and stops by, I so enjoy our conversations on every topic you can imagine. He is open-minded and honest and not afraid to stand up for himself. 

Nick and Nic, two of my blessings.

Our grands are spread all over now. I love it when we get together.

We are all in this together

 Three of my writer friends have been published recently or have had multiple stories accepted. I am thrilled for them. 

Someone asked if I was upset because my work was not selected. Absolutely not. Disappointed, sure, but I am happy for my fellow writers.

Rejection is seldom about the writer, and more about the editorial needs of the publications. I have always considered this to be part of the process of freelance writing. 

Will I lay low for a while? You mean wallow? Give up? No not at all. I will write, edit, and submit 5-7 pieces per month, as usual.

How do YOU handle rejection?

My dear just offered to buy lunch. Please come back. I will be gathering information and observing characters... fodder for another story or post.

 

First graduation to most recent

My how time flies! Seems only yesterday granddaughter Nicole was in my preschool class excelling in everything she attempted. Molly was her best friend, and Nicole declared at four that when she grew up she was going to be a singer and change her name to Molly Rose. Maybe down the line she will, but so far she has been a wonderful writer, sensational singer, magnificent mathemetician, acclaimed artist, and forever friend to CeCe who she grew up with. 

She has been a delightful daughter, and best "heart" installer in the stuffies she sells at Build-a Bear where she works.

I have been journaling and including photos of her in a scrap book notebook since she was born. I will give the memory journal to her at her graduation party next week along with a gift. My little doll has grown into a beautiful young lady.

She and Papa Bill used to pretend they were cat & dog puppets using just their hands. "Woof Woof, meow meow" ... until they drove me crazy, then they would laugh out loud.

She and I had so many fun experiences in preschool. I loved teaching her and watching her grow and learn. 
                         

Look at Nana's girl now. She graduated high school and will be heading to university in the fall to study finance and business. I am so proud of her. She received awards and medals, and a special dainty keepsake bracelet from me for a job well done. 

I feel privileged to have been a part of her life. I feel blessed. Indeed.

He's no Ninja Turtle. He's my hero.

 

I drove around the corner onto a side street with little traffic. A dinner-plate-size, yellow-bellied turtle was in my lane trying to cross the road. I stopped the car. Bill, who has a bad back, achy knees, and uses a cane, said, "You are going to cause a wreck over a turtle." Then he slid out of the passenger seat, bent down, and plopped that big guy in tall grass far from the road.

Bill is no teenager. He's no mutant. He's no Ninja, (like that kid's show with a team of do gooders,) The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but my honey is MY HERO!

When I was a child, baby turtles the size of quarters or half-dollar coins, could be purchased as pets from dime stores. Sales were discontuinued when it was discovered they carried samonella.

When my son was about eight, he rescued a box turtle from the country. He named it Speedy, because that critter could make it to the back gate in a flash. A few weeks later we returned it to the original spot where it was found. 

It is advised that you not relocate turtles to new areas, even if you think their current location is odd (unless it is obviously hazardous, such as a busy parking lot). Moving them to an unfamiliar location can subject them to foreign diseases and parasites that they lack a natural immunity to, so that should be avoided.

Did you know a group of turtles is called a bale or a dole. Ever seen a group piled on a log?

OHH, Say Can YOU Sing?

 This picture was taken seven years ago when Charlie was a red-headed baby and knew exactly what he did and didn't want. He didn't want to take his nap. 

I look a bit ragged because I was exhausted from babysitting three little boys, my great grandsons, 1, 2, and 5 years old. 

I was trying to get Charlie down for a nap, but nothing was working. So I began to sing, You Are My Sunshine.

He covered my mouth to hush me. When he dropped his hand, I sang, and he put his chubby little hand right back. Was it cause and effect? Nope, he really didn't like my singing. 

In 7th grade the music teacher asked each student to sing the scales so she could assign us to groups. I am an alto, but tried singing soprano. She assigned me to the soprano group, and as soon as I joined in singing she stopped and said, "WHO is it that can't carry a tune?!" All eyes looked at me, and if
Mrs. Wilson could have, she would have covered my mouth, just like baby Charlie did.

Just because I cannot carry a tune, that didn't stop me from singing along to the patriotic songs televised on PBS for Memorial Day. 

Bumper stickers, tattoos, and chest messages

 These days it seems tattoos speak for those who are inked. You can learn a lot about the person simply by reading arms, legs, necks, chests, basically any visible body part. Warning: craning your neck can cause a "crick."

Long ago, when bumper stickers were popular, if you drove through neighborhoods you could get a feel for the areas: political climate, median age, sports team preferences, who was a peacenik and who was confrontational. Braggerts boasted their kid was smarter than the other person's. You could count how many family members and pets a household had by the amount of stick figures were posted on rear vehicle windows. Heck you could even discover who was recently divorced, had a baby on board, or owned dogs and cats.

It is one thing to announce your preferences, affiliations, and irritants while driving. But proclaiming your "issues" across your chest, in my opinion, makes you a marked man or woman.

Dads will soon be recieving T shirts imprinted with humorous, loving, or sports team slogans. Nine out of ten will puff out their chest wearing shirts indicating they are THE WORLD'S BEST.

But the older guy (at the buffet) wearing the shirt above imprinted with this message might as well be wearing flashing yellow caution lights.

I asked permission to take a photo of his shirt. He looked at me for a long uncomfortable thirty seconds and said, "Yeah, okay, but it IS true."
I had no doubt. 

I showed him I did not breach his privacy by posting his face.

If Tables Could Talk

 As a writer I am always intuned to conversations going on around me, details, and mannerisms of people nearby.

There is an adage, "If walls could talk."

I was waiting for a friend on an outdoor patio at Panera, known as Bread Company in St. Louis, because it was the original, and we locals still call it Bread Co.

As I waited, I observed two different couples. 

The first was a middle age woman with a fake tan and rings on every finger splaying rainbow prisms in the sunshine. She greeted a man whose face was etched with life's struggles. She gave him a hard stare, yanked her shirt, showed him her midriff, and barked two words: "GUNSHOT WOUND."  

Next to them was an elderly couple. He took her hand and offered a ring box. She shook her head NO. His face sagged; hers crumbled. She also said two words: "SOCIAL SECURITY."

I do not know the details of their lives, but as a writer you can infer from listening to conversations and observing actions. This was great writing material/prompts. 

Are you an eavesdropper?

Weather or Not

Spring has arrived in all her glory. My hubby gave up on planting a garden three years ago when all the tomatoes developed blossom rot. The neighbor's garden did not flourish either. But this year, grandson Kyle gave us six of these large planters so Bill can grow tomatoes again. My honey sweet talks his babies.This is going to be a good season. I feel it! There are BLTs in our future.

I love sitting on the carport and reading or watching the many birds that visit our feeders. Believe it or not, Sassy Boy likes to sit on the patio table and observe the wildlife. He is very mild-mannered
and has never jumped off the table. He likes to be near us. When he sees us outside, he cries at the door and begs to come out.

Every summer I change the swing cushion and add artificial flowers to coordinate. In the past I have decortated in pink, pale blue, orange, etc. This year I went to Goodwill and found a cotton shower curtain for $3.00 and expensive fake sunflowers for $3.00. I found a tiny wooden sign for $1.50 that sits on the table far right in front of the planter filled with artificial mini, black-eyed Susans. There is a metal sign from Dollar Tree that reads WELCOME right in the middle of the sunflowers. 

"Welcome Sunshine" is the message handpainted on the little plaque. This is my summer nook. Rain or shine, regardless of weather, you can find me here rocking and reading. That lawn chair has a pillow embroidered with flowers and the word LOVE.

                      I'm currently reading and enjoying, When I Was your Age

               20 Original Stories About Growing Up by twenty                                              contribuors, edited by Amy Ehrlich

Introducing the results of a wild fling.

 

'Tis the mating season. Cookie and her mate have been smooching on the highwires, and let me tell you, he chased her for a few days before she agreed to set up housekeeping. He has proved himself worthy. He is a true housemate.

She chose real estate on a ledge in the rafters of our carport. I watched as she and her mate collected twigs which kept blowing down. I told her, "Cookie, you are not a good nest builder, but I will help you out. I was going to put a small wicker basket up there, but couldn't find the right size. 

We were carrying in groceries and a box of canned cat food when my over head "lightbulb" went off. The box was the correct size. 

Notice the left corner where I cut out a small section? It was a realistic looking  cardboard image of a beautiful white cat's face. No way could I terrorize her with that. So I removed the image, I scooped her nest building material into the box and  shoved it right into the slot. She came flying in with a twig, spied me and flapped past my face. I did not find an egg in the nest, and I figured she would abandon it because of my itnerference.

She flew to the roof and  I said, "Aww, Cookie, I'm sorry, but I think you need a wee bit of help with home building." I went to sit on the patio, and she flew right back with another twig and some grass. Her boyfriend helped her out. They didn't have the finest nest, but they had a safer one.

After researching, I didscovered mourning doves actually build loose, shallow, nests made out of twigs, pine needles and grass, unlike robins that pack their nests with mud. Their eggs incubate for two weeks, and fourteen to fifteen days later the baby birds fledge. 

Did you know they are protected by law once they are nesting? How about that! 

"Coo-Coo." They sweet talk one another.

 

Great Grandson Blows 'em Away

I've heard that pictures tell a story. Pictures can also be deceiving. Bet you'd never guess...

I am so proud of 11 year old Liam. He plays trombone in his school band. Looks like he is giving it his all, but this was a candid shot. He was standing on stage among his peers waiting for dismissal. He wasn't making a sound.

I would do anything to protect him, but I am not his bodyguard, and that is not a weapon in my hand. It is my cell phone.

For my writer friends out there, Chicken Soup for the Soul has many callouts for several titles for next year. Now is the time to submit your story. I went through my old files, discovered a slew of stories that were not accepted over the years and sent all ten of them off after I edited each for the upcoming titles. 

 People ask where I get my ideas. I pull from my reservoir of life stories. We all have stories. Why not get paid for sharing yours? 

Good luck to you. Write on!

Introducing Jackson ... E-I-E-I-O

Jackson is 17 months old and he is our pride and joy. His mommy Abby and daddy Kyle (Bill's grandson) have a working farm. Jackson has been introduced to farm animals, tractors, and all aspects of farm life. He has two dogs, cats and loves "steering" the tractor and side by side vehicle with his daddy. 

This is Tommy, a calf who was the same age as Jackson. He was rejected by his mother, so Kyle bottle fed this little calf. Tommy was not put out to pasture for a while and hung out around the outside of the house and in the large garage. His favorite thing to do was chase the two dogs around the perimeter of the house, around and around the three of them would race, alternating who was in the lead. What a joy to see.

Jackson has a roomful of stuffed animals and toys, but he prefers the real farm animals.

He loves the geese and especially the  new ducklings.

He adores the baby chicks when they hatch.

And when he came for a visit to our house, he discovered our cat who was skittish and ran away. But he fell in love with this battery-operated cat that meows, moves its head and tail. Jackson said, "Hi, Kitty!" And he played with it all day, and kissed him. So cute!

 

Growing like weeds!

 Liam is as tall as I am. Alex is right behind him, and Charlie is a big kid, too. They spent one of their spring break days at our house. Liam brought his key board, and for once the boys collaborated on a song instead of fighting. I predict they will be famous musicians in a boy band. Watch out world!

Liam has taken up an instrument at school this year. He was chosen as a star performer district-wide, to represent his school as the best TROMBONE player. He has a spring concert this week, and I will be sure to post photos. 

I am amazed at how time flies. I am weeks away from having my LUCKY birthday, and the boys all have summer birthdays, too. I miss their "little" days, but am so proud of our great grandsons. Alex had the cutest spring concert, right up my alley: At The Beach. Charlie's performance was adorable, too. 

Announcement ... Jackson, eighteen months is our fourth great grandson, and do I have cute pics to post of him along with stories. Do come back. Thank you for your visit.

Charming Charlie

 It has been three years since the devastating loss of my blog. I cherished the time spent sharing my life with all of you, and I have truly missed you.

Charlie is going on eight, Alex is almost nine, and Liam is weeks away from 12. I used to babysit them, converted our basement to a preschool area. I taught PreK for 40 years, and spent another three teaching my two youngest great grandsons downstairs.

When Charlie went to kindergarten, I had a yard sale and sold every preschool item: wall hangings, equipment, craft supplies, books...the works! I was so afraid of Charlie's reaction. I did not tell them about the renovation: a family room, furniture, rugs etc.

He stopped at the top of the steps and looked down stairs into the preschool area. When he saw a new large carpet, he screamed, "Nana!" He bounded down the stairs, stopped, gazed all around and said, "Oh Nana Linda, thank you for building us this cool hotel."

He brings me such joy and has given me so many laugh lines. None so funny as the day when he was much younger and lectured me about my innapropriate behavior.  

 I sat in a chair outside. He stood between my legs and fiddled with the ties on my peasant blouse. "I love these pretty beads."

 He asked me to tie his shoe, then he said, "Oh, Nana Linda don't be gross. You cannot show your butt outside, only in the bathtub with your brudders." 

I showed him I was sitting on my butt. He walked around me inspecting. The he looked at my neckline and said, "How DID you get your butt up that high?"'

"Oh, Charlie that is not my butt. That is my cleavage."

Last year I participated in a live show performance, Mama Said, Mama Said! along with a dozen  others and  shared quips and quotes about charming Charlie.

My Chicken Soup for the Soul stories have been published in 38 books, and I am still writing.

I would love to hear from you!

Is Anyone Still There?

 I have no idea how I recovered my blog, but when I told my dear husband he said, "Wow! A younger person." 

He is lucky I like/love him!

I have missed blogging and hope I still have some followers.  Lots has happened since my last post when my blog went bye-bye. I have certainly missed you!

recovered my blog

 Hi Everyone, I have no idea what I did, but I am BACK!