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!