All Wrapped Up .......

...... in many other things.

It's been a long time since I've written to you all. I didn't like the way I left, by stating I was 'Moving On', so I'm back. One big reason I stopped writing was due to the work I needed to put into my Nellie and Ruth Designs shop on Etsy.  The other big reason I stopped writing was I seldom, okay; never had anyone comment on my posts and felt I was wasting my time, felt no one was really interested or moved by my words.

I didn't realize my words had an effect on people until yesterday. I was at an appointment and saw a women who I really enjoy being around. We don't get to see each other very often, only when a mutual friend of ours has a gathering at her summer camp, and due to her busy schedule she hasn't had any in quite some time. It was nice to catch up, it amazes me how two people can cover so much ground in a matter of 15 minutes.

During our brief conversation, she mentioned she really missed my writing and she still went to my blog. It kind of surprised me when I heard this. She told me she really liked reading my posts because it gave her a different perspective on things.

Then, when I went to my blog yesterday to look it over and see what I was going to do, I noticed by 5 p.m. 58 people had come to my blog to read different messages. 58 people may not be a lot in today's world of blogging, but in my world it's a lot. There are blogs out there who have thousands of people stopping in each day, but I figure this, if I can help one person during the week to see things differently in there world, I guess it's worth it.

So I've decided to take the towel off my head so you can start hearing my voice again. The blog God's have spoken.

For those who continue to visit my blog, thank you; and for those who have just found me, well, I hope you enjoy what you read and you'll stop back often.

Peace and love to everyone,

Barbie

Beyond My Comprehension

This past July I spent one week in Newark, NJ on a mission trip helping those less fortunate.  Each year, our church will send our youth out to different parts of the US to participate in an organization called Catholic Heart Work Camp.  It’s a fantastic organization, hosting over 250 kids from all over to eat, pray, serve and love.

This was the first year our two boys participated, and seeing chaperones are always needed, my husband and I signed up to make sure our 14 kids were delivered safe and sound.

Sleeping in a school, on the floor with 13 girls, getting up at 5:30 a.m. to shower, staying up until 11:30 p.m. making sure all the girls are back in the room, is not the norm for me.  

I was very nervous prior to the trip. The unknown is always scary.  Not knowing where you are going to be placed to work for the week is a little unsettling.  Because you are to serve as Jesus did, you are not placed in the best sections of town and you are not serving those in posh places.  You are usually placed where there are gangs, lots of poverty, low crime areas, etc.  I just kept telling myself God will place me where I need to be, but mostly, where my children need to be.  Once again, God did not let me down and took care of my family as he saw fit.  

My husband use to be a health inspector many years ago, so his hygiene is a bit over the top, along with keeping things neat and clean in our home.  His first mission was taking 14 girls to the home of a hoarder, which was so bad, 3 girls couldn’t go in the house, they were given yard duty.  The rest of the week they went on to a local church to clean, paint, and take care of a very neglected yard where local drug addicts hang out.  His final mission was at a local shelter, for battered women and children, painting the children’s rooms bright colors in order to remind them there is beauty and color in their dark world.  God placed him exactly where he needed to be.

My son Patrick was placed at a home for the disabled, washing their transport vans for the week.  Patrick hates to was vehicles.  I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to pay him to wash my car and I always get, “is there anything else I can do? I don’t like washing cars.”  God placed him exactly where he needed to be !!!!

My son Michael, whom I was really worried about, and wanted him to be placed in a really run down, dirty, hardship home was placed in a spot where I thought he’d gain nothing from this appointed mission.  

The first problem was Michael being placed in my group, under my direction.  Parents that chaperon are not suppose to be placed with their child.  I immediately went to the director to rectify this problem, unfortunately, when you set a schedule for over 300 people, oversights happen and nothing could be done about it.  I was stuck with my son.

Our appointed mission was at The Most Blessed Sacrament Friary with the Brothers and Priest and our job was painting the hallways where their private living quarters are and taking care of a very large overgrown yard.  I had no idea how my child was going to benefit from this somewhat glamorous, easy job. Again, God placed both of us right where we needed to be.

My son is a big gamer, he loves his Xbox.  Taking time to do quiet, reflective things at home are not part of his daily routine.  Since the friary is not ‘wired’, Michael was forced to settle down, slow down, listen, reflect and build relationships with total strangers.  Michael’s self esteem was pretty low at this time, his first love broke his heart one week prior to the trip and unfortunately she was a participant in the work camp, so he was still be tormented by her while in New Jersey.  I think the true mission for this boy was trying to get over his heartache.  

God sent a wonderful angel to the two of us while at the friary, his name is Brother Vittoreo.  Brother Vittoreo meet us at the friary gates our first day and both Michael and I felt we were entering through the gates of heaven.  I have never, in my entire life, felt so much love, acceptance, and a sense of real belonging than I did when I looked into Brother Vittoreo’s eyes.  They were truly the eyes of God.  

During the week, Brother V. spent a great amount of time with Michael talking with him and really getting to know him.  There was still things Michael needed to work on, however, Brother V. planted a seed that I knew was going to grow inside Michael.  It has been 5 months since our trip and Michael has matured and overcome obstacles that would normally bring him down. God worked through Brother V. and at the end of the week when our job was done, I left with a new son.

For me, I was given more than I could have asked for.  After entering the friary and was asked to work in the gardens it was confirmed what my purpose on life was, which I had been questioning for many, many years. I now know I am a steward for all God has created in nature, to put a smile on someones face, to help those who cannot help themselves and to create a brighter world for others.

I now have a very special friend whom I have unconditional love for.  Brother V. and I spent many hours gardening together and sharing conversations that were truly meaningful and fulfilling.  Praying with the brothers and priests each day before lunch was a true gift.  My prayers are now more meaningful and I pray in a totally different manner than I did before.

I truly believe certain people come into your life for a reason.  After 5 months, Brother Vittoreo and I are still corresponding and both Michael and I just spoke with him on the phone the other day.  Once again, I have learned to step aside, place my cares and worries at the feet of God, for He truly has a plan for all of us that is beyond our comprehension.

Blessings ~

Barbie 

Life Tides

When you least expect it, the ocean rushes in and wraps itself around your ankles.  As it recedes, it leaves it's mark on you.  Wether it's the wet coldness on your feet, a drop or two of salt on your legs that later dry, leaving it's mark only to remind you how a previous moment of joy can leave a salt encrusted stain that's sometimes hard to remove.

That's the way my life goes at times.  I feel I live my life, at times, in tides.  They come in with a rush of excitement and recede calmly leaving no marks at all. Then there are times when the tide rolls in a very calm sort of way but as the ocean recedes until itself, scummy sea foam surrounds you that bubbles under your feet, making your world ugly.  Or seaweed that washes ashore strangles your toes only to remind you that under those beautiful waves there is a world you do not want to be exposed to.  Suddenly your relationship with the ocean reminds you of certain relationships that exist in your life.

Now that I'm a middle aged women, I've learned that relationships are very important to me.  I also learned during my few sessions in therapy (back in my late 20's) and through a Landmark Education Course (on how to live a more empowered life) that I can choose who I want to have a relationship with and who I do not want in my life.  It's my choice.  I'm over the 'family' thing.  I think the term family is overrated.

I have a brother who I have not had a relationship with for over 16 years.  He is older than me, well, at least in the numerical sense, he is 60.  Growing up with this person was a joy, kinda like being at the ocean everyday.  As the years progressed, the tides turned and I found we did not share the same ideologies, morals, values or philosophy on how one should live their life. Is he wrong in his thoughts and ideas, probably not.  Am I wrong in my thoughts and ideas, probably not.  Even though we were brought up under the same roof, with the same set of parents, our worlds do not coexist.

We were thrown back together when my father became ill during the winter of 2010.  I should say, he was thrown back into my world.  I did what was expected and showed respect to both my parents by doing the right thing in communicating with him on a somewhat regular basis and showed respect to my brother in keeping him abreast of all the little details of my father's fading during this most difficult time.  Since my fathers death in November of 2010, I have had no contact with this particular brother, a choice I continue to make.  The choices he made during my fathers 11 month slow ride to the other side and his previous life's choices have never been understood by me, and I will never understand them.

Thanksgiving morning he decided to wash upon my beach by sending a text message to me saying, "Happy Thanksgiving. Give mom a hug from me (and one for yourself). I miss you." The number was not familiar to me. There are a few people I know who refer to my mother as 'mom' that live out of town and thought it might be one of them.  I soon realized the area code was from a place you can only travel to by plane or by some sort of people mover via a 2 day drive.

My reply back to him was, "You too. By the way, how did you get my number?" A simple question coming from a curious person.  No harm, no foul.  I receive a text back explaining I had given him my number when my father was in the nursing home with a very final reply stating ........ "don't worry, I won't use this number again."  Remarks like that tell me one thing. Ugliness.

The tide receded from around my feet, leaving sea foam scum, seaweed, broken seashells and my feet slightly sinking into the soft sand that I normally walk firm on.  Salt has stained my body, once again, where the stains cannot be removed, only to hope they will fade in time.  I know they will fade away, time heals all wounds.

Life is too short to play games.  Life is too short not to be honest with oneself, wether you're on the giving end or wether you're on the receiving end of the relationship.  Life is too short to carry baggage around with you, it becomes too cumbersome, too heavy, and after awhile that baggage thats being carried brings others down because that person expect others to carry it around for them too.

When you least expect it, the ocean rushes in and wraps itself around your ankles. It's up to you how you're going to handle the salt, the seaweed, the broken shells and how far you allow your heals to sink into the soft sand.  I decided along time ago I can choose who I want in my healthy, loving, honest life.

After all, you have to decide to make a choice.  That's the first step ~



Barbie

Christ is my compass

Back in July I spent a week at the Most Blessed Sacrament Friary with youth who participated in Catholic Heart Work Camp. We were giving our time to help the brothers in any way we could. It's an experience I'll never forget.

The friary was an amazing place and it took my breath away when I walked through the gates.  The presence of God was overwhelming and as the brothers greeted us, I could see God through their eyes and here Him through their words. I had no idea where I'd be placed to give my time and I had to leave it in God's hands.  I kept telling myself he'll put me where I need to be and he did just that.

The courtyard

The friary was very large and I found myself getting turned around each time I came in from gardening.  With the courtyard being in the middle I thought this would be a good point to find my fellow workers, but it wasn't.

My Amazing Lord

When we first entered the friary, there was the most beautiful Crucifix at the end of the hall that would take your breath away. I decided this Crucifix was going to be my compass for I knew Christ would lead me in the direction I needed to go. 

Day after day I would enter the friary from gardening to see one of the youth, gather more tools or speak to another group leader and I'd get turned around. I constantly found myself saying, "If I just find Christ, I'll know which way to go" and when I found that Crucifix and centered myself in front of Christ, I knew exactly which way to go.

I got so use to saying this at the friary, I find it's my new mantra. I continue to say those words when I feel lost, a little down, trying to make a decision or when I feel I have no one else to talk to.  Those words came so freely it didn't dawn on me until after I arrived home that's exactly how I need to live my life.  So each day, I make it a point to find Christ, spend some time with him, and after our little talks, I know exactly which way to go and what I need to do.

Barbie

Life is What You Make It

Recently my days have been full of surprises, disappointment, challenges, changes and confusion.  I have to continually say to myself, "Keep Calm and Carry On"

I've always tried to make the most of my day and be as positive as I can be.  I'm a happy person and enjoy making others happy.  With the curve balls that have been thrown at me lately I can only put one foot in front of the other and remind myself to "Keep Calm and Carry On"

Nobody said life was easy and the older I get, the harder it gets.  I try to instill wisdom to my children everyday about life, it's ups and downs and the ins and outs of it all. 

I told my son today the only thing that is important to me is his happiness.  That's all I wish for everyone, happiness.  It would be nice to throw some compassion into the mix along with a bit of understanding, concern and tenderness.  What I'm finding, as my life rolls along, is others I encounter do not have any of the above in their DNA.  I am truly concerned about the lack of concern people have for one another. 

For the time being, I can only work on myself and make sure I do everything possible to show others through my words and examples that no matter what surprise, disappointment, challenge, change or in the mist of confusion I'm doing the best job I can.  I'll make sure I show others compassion and understanding for what they might be going through, concern about their well being and I'll be sensitive to their situation by "Keeping Calm and Carrying On" 

Kindness and happiness can go a long way!

Barbie

Peace, Love,

Live To Give

This past July I was fortunate enough to go on a mission trip with the youth of our church to help the less fortunate.  (a blog will be written soon about this trip in the weeks to come) One of the nightly events was a presentation from the "hippie girl" which started off with a chant - Peace, Love, Live to Give -

This photo of Haley pretty much sums it up. Sometimes we sit right in the midst of rough waves crashing in all around us, just like Haley is doing. We get hit from the left, the right and smack dab in the back, not knowing what happened or why a certain event went so terribly wrong. With the busy, everyday ups and downs we experience, we need to remind ourselves life is about peace, love and giving.

The world we presently live in is not very peaceful.  With all the killing, abuse and bullying that goes on in our world between our fellow human beings, it's not very loving.  Our present world is so caught up in the monetary aspect of life, selfishness takes over and people are not very giving.  We also have to remind ourselves we don't have to give money, just a little time to help others, but most people have also become selfish with their time too. 

So many people talk about World Peace and wish we all could have it.  It truly is something that can happen.  We all have to remind ourselves in order to achieve it, you alone are the one that needs to change first ........ not your neighbor, your children, your husband or your friend, but you.  If you change to a peaceful way of being, others around you will follow. And we've all been told it's better to give than to receive, and guess what? It is. I find when you give yourself by helping others, expecting nothing in return, words cannot describe the satisfaction one feels and you find yourself doing more and more for others.

I challenge all of you to adopt this new mantra of "Peace, Love, Live to Give" and I bet your life will change for the better.  I know mine has -



Barbie

We Are Who We Are

We all have insecurities. Each person deals with them in their own personal way.  Some people do not like their nose, their breasts, their hair line, the sound of their voice, the way they walk or their overall body shape.  Others think they are dumb, not good enough or think they'll fail at something new, never trying what really interests them.  For some, they become so obsessed with their faults they can't see their successes.

Diane Keaton is one of my favorite actresses, along with Meryl Streep. I find the movies they have been in are some of my favorites :: The Godfather, Father of the Bride, Something's Gotta Give and First Wives Club. As far as Meryl is concerned, her movies are too long to list and there isn't one I couldn't watch over and over again.  When I watch these movies, I find I watch the women more than the scene or the other actors surrounding them.  They are both beautiful women and are excellent at their trade.

I just recently read Then Again by Diane Keaton and had no idea she would share certain aspects of her life, as well as her own personal insecurities.  When I look at these two women, I see a natural beauty inside and out. I would never have thought Diane Keaton would have been called stupid when she was younger.  She didn't think herself as pretty, after comparing herself to another famous actress and down the road, when she was older, she ended up sticking her finger down her throat three times a day for years. She was bulimic. Why? 

Her mother had insecurities which Diane herself couldn't understand.  Why is it we can't accept ourselves for who we are?  I thought when you reached a certain age it was time to pat yourself on the back for all you've accomplished.  Why must we dwell on the negative?  I sometimes wonder if the negative pushes us to reach our potential.

As I get older, my insecurities are shrinking.  I'm not saying they aren't there, I just don't give them much attention anymore. I've learned to focus on what I do best and what makes me feel good.  It doesn't matter how famous you are, how beautiful you are or how much money you have, we all have one thing in common. We all have insecurities.

Remember this, we are who we are for a reason.  Once you figure out who you really are, you'll enjoy yourself so much more.  Life is too short and too precious to dwell on the negative.





Barbie

Play-Doh

Champlain Stone has been our source of income since1982.  With the economic situation it forced us to lay more people off this past winter than we ever had before, in hopes of keeping our business afloat until March, where the orders picks up and we're off and running at a very fast pace.


It's very hard to lay anyone off, or let anyone go.  In these times a job is worth it's wait in gold and we know we are effecting the lives of others but our thought was this.  We'd rather have a business to call people back to, than have to shut the doors 6 months down the road because we made some very poor decisions.  Some employees understand, others don't.


With the turn of events, I talked to my husband about laying ourselves off from January 1 until May 1.  I felt it was only proper.  I couldn't justify letting people go and have my husband and I continue to collect a paycheck.  To me,  that doesn't send a very good message.  We all need to make sacrifices at times and this was also our time to do just that.  I knew we'd be okay during these 4 months but I took it very seriously and ran the household on a very tight budget, challenged myself at the grocery store and decided what outside activities were a must over a "want to."  The first thing my boys asked was if we were now poor.  I reinforced my thoughts to them about making sacrifices for others and because we salted away some extra cash, we'd be fine.  They too need to see you sometimes have to give up something to get something in return.

Life moves so fast, people get caught up in the everyday rat race and before you know it, a year has gone by and you've had no fun.  That's just how my husband and I had been feeling for quite some time.  We needed a well deserve break, even though I knew we really shouldn't take our 'rainy day' money to go and have some fun.  We're both very sensible people and it's not our nature to just blow hard earned money.  It was time for a well deserved vacation, regardless of our financial situation.  I made an executive decision and we headed to Key West with another couple, leaving the boys behind to study hard and to see just what it's like without mom catering to their every whim!

A week after we arrived home, my boys came back from attending a teen faith formation gathering and they walked into the house with Play-Doh, and that got me thinking.  Most people know what Play-Doh is and what you can do with it.  As a child I had Play-Doh with a Fun Factory and when my children were little, they too had Play-Doh.  

No matter what your situation, we all have to be flexible just like Play-Doh.  If you accept the changes in your life and go with the flow, you learn to adapt, learning to be resourceful so you can still have fun and deal with a somewhat uncomfortable situation.

Just like Play-Doh, some situations stink, but they're only temporary.  My mother would always say, and still does, "this too shall pass."  We all have the power to turn a bad situation into a good one, if you can stay positive and have a bright outlook.

I felt we had enough Play-Doh to go on holiday where it wouldn't hurt us, making concessions when we did start drawing a paycheck once again come May.  It was a decision I did not regret.

Knowing how short life is, you just have to listen to the craziness that's going on in your head, act like an immature teenager and do something out of the ordinary, acting like you haven't a care in the world.  With all the stress in ones life, there are times where you say, "We can't afford NOT to take a vacation." Your well being and your mental frame of mind is worth the investment.  So, for those who think they can't afford to get away, take the time off from work, or leave a family member behind, you're mind and body deserves the very best.  Grab a handful of play dough and treat yourself every once in a while to some fun and act like that crazy teen that is screaming to break free, you'll thank yourself at a later date.

Barbie

Good Morning Key West

I've been traveling to Key West since 1984 and have never had to set an alarm clock.  The wonderful Roosters that roam the streets will wake you at the crack of dawn, each morning, without fail.

I have just arrived home from a wonderful vacation with my husband and friends and want to share my photos of these amazing birds, in all their splendor.  

Key West is split as to whether the birds should stay or the birds should go. They were brought in by early pioneers and Cuban cockfighters and are part of the island's charm. The big debate about these birds is whether they cause a health risk.

Just like anything else, there are those who love them and those who hate them. If you've been out drinking all night and want to sleep in, well ........ good luck.  These guys will make sure you won't miss the sunrise.  Some residents would like to catch them and cook them.  Other's will tell you, "if you don't like them, then leave, they were here first."

I find them all quite amusing and beautiful, but then again, I don't take up residency for very long.  All I know is, these birds have the run of the place and really know how to strut their stuff.  They certainly put on a good show.

So, if you're headed to Key West anytime soon, you'll need not have to pack an alarm clock.  These bad boys will make sure your butt is out of bed so you get to see what the early mornings have to offer.

I happen to love them and can't even imagine Key West without them!




Barbie

$112,962.00

is what I'm worth?

I'm sure you all heard Hilary Rosen recently say Ann Romney "never worked a day in her life" because she stayed at home and raised her 5 kids.  I just have to comment on this, especially seeing a women made this statement.

First of all, when are women going to stop judging other women?  Especially professional women judging us stay-at-home mom's.  I like to call myself a "Domestic Engineer," my husband calls me a "Domestic Goddess."  I have to say, the way some children act these days, I'm more apt to judge the professional women for "wanting" to work 40-60 hours a week and making the decision not to be a stay-at-home mom and raise their own children. God knows if more women stayed home, raising their children themselves (and not by some stranger in an over crowded daycare center) todays youth just might be a bit more respectful and possibly not be so apt to turn to drugs, gangs, drinking and run into other troubles.

I have been part of both worlds.  From 1984 until 1998 I was entrenched in my husbands business.  Being Vice President of his company, there was never ending duties which needed to be preformed.  I traveled throughout the United States taking photos of finished jobs to be published in magazines to promote our stone products. Conventions were attended, sales trips taken and business dinners planned.  I absolutely loved working all these crazy hours.  I learned, listened and grew from the places I went and the people I met.  At times I'd have to pinch myself because of the opportunities this wonderful job provided.

After 14 years of marriage, the business was a success, our home was built and it was time to have children.  My husband and I both agreed when we had children, I would stay home and take care of them.  Both my husband and myself were raised by mothers who stayed home and we remember what a wonderful feeling it was to have mom there for our every need.  Neither one of us wanted someone else raising our children, influencing them or imposing their thoughts on life into their little brains. We wanted to nurture them in every way, shape and form.

I feel, and have always felt, one of the most important jobs a women can have is to raise their children and be there for them when they get off that school bus, pick them up when they fall and scrape a knee, encourage them when they have trouble with homework and listen to them when they have had a bad day at school with a friend or teacher.  

When my boys are in school, I have always had tons of "work" to do.  Most of it is thankless work that is performed day in and day out.  When my boys were little they always came to me when their favorite toy broke, the training wheels needed to come off, a snack needed to be prepared, or they needed to be shown again and again how to dive into the pool.  As they grew, they continued to come to me for help with homework, how to tie their tie, how to serve a tennis ball, how to start the lawn mower, how to coil a hose or what to use on the hub caps while washing the car.  I'm not saying my husband cannot do any of this, but when you own your own business and work all the time, there really isn't much time for anything else.  

Women can multi task very well and I've got it down to a science.  As far as whether I'm worth $112,962.00 (according to Salary.com) is yet to be determined.  I'm not sure what a seamstress, hairdresser, chef, plumber, electrician, carpenter, artist, teacher, gardener, psychologist, personal trainer, and mentor pays these days but I feel its a bit more than $112,926.00 - there are days I feel like I'm worth much, much more.  I cannot put a price on how much my family appreciates all I do for them and you cannot put a price on love. All I do for my family is done from my heart, because I want to do this job, not because I have to. I love them dearly and when they come home, I want whatever bad day they might have had to be erased from their mind and have them step into a world where they can relax, have fun and recharge their battery for whatever tomorrow may bring.  

My mother has often said, "I wish I had spent more time with you.  I was too busy cleaning and gardening." My reply to her, "Mom, I couldn't have asked for a better mother.  You were home and there for me whenever I might need you.  I was off running around the neighborhood playing with friends, but whenever I walked in the house, or out of my bedroom, you were there.  You made me feel safe, protected and loved. You taught me so much.  I only wish I had spent more time with you."

The most important thing we can do as mothers is to make our children feel safe, protected, loved and important. No one can attach a salary for that kind of nurturing.  

Barbie

What is a Mother-In-Law?

A question which is left open for criticism, jokes, bitching sessions and in my belief, a question one cannot really answer truthfully.

So far, in my lifetime, I have had 2 mother-in-laws.  I am one of the fortunate ones who admired and loved both women in different fashions.  Why I am writing about this I do not know, all I know is I'm feeling melancholy today and a whole bucket of emotions are coming forth regarding one mother-in-law in particular, and that's mother-in-law number 1.

From 1976 until 1982 I was around a women who, to me, was amazing.  She performed no miracles, was a simple housewife enduring, at times, the doldrums of life but was a constant for 5 children and a husband day in and day out.

We all have something through our sense of sight, smell and touch which triggers emotions beyond our scope.  Images appear out of nowhere which leads you to a different path where sometimes there is no U-turn, stop or caution sign warning us of our next thought and whether we should go there or not.

This morning, my melancholy mood took me to a vision of my former mother-in-law sitting at her kitchen table, facing so she could see into the living room.  In this particular spot, she could see if anyone was coming in to her domain.  I call it "her domain" for that is where I remember her being most of the time.  I felt like my face conformed into hers when this mood struck me.  I often remember her sitting at the table, elbow propped upon it with her hand holding her face as if she was all tuckered out.  I'm sure she was.  Her quite moods were not to make one uncomfortable but merely made one concerned if she was doing to much, worrying too much, or what she had to fix for dinner later in the day/week. Her kitchen table was a hub of activity.  It saw many early morning Yahtzee games with her friend, afternoon lunches with her husband, nightly family dinners and coffee sessions throughout the week.

I then put on my white, ankle sport socks and that road took me to Christmas.  Every year, her husband would present her with a box, and I mean a box, full of white sport socks for her.  I often wonder how many pairs she went through during the year, and how many socks came out of her washer and dryer as a singleton.

When I make homemade bread, at least that's what I call it, even if it comes out of a bread machine, my sense of smell overpowers my thoughts.  Each time a loaf is baking, the smell brings me to Thompson Avenue where many, many loaves of bread had been made, sitting around the kitchen cooling just waiting to be cut open to have a big slab of butter placed smack dab in the middle of a slice for you to enjoy a bit of heaven.  I never did know why so many loaves were made.  Did she give them away to friends or freeze them for later consumption?

Her kitchen was simple but great.  I can still visualize her homemade french fries, the greasy paper which lay beneath them as they so call, drip dry.  I remember the stove she cooked on, which was not your conventional stove as we know it today, but a hugh wood burning stove.  I remember her refrigerator eating the quarters it was feed by her to keep running so nothing would spoil only to stay fresh for the next hand that needed nutrition throughout the day.

I think about the Wrangler jeans she always wore,  along with her multiple sweatshirts that came in a variety of colors.  I can so relate to her choice of clothing now that I'm a "stay at home mom".  The only difference is my jeans come from the gap and my sweatshirts have some sort of tacky logo on the front.

Baseball season has begun with so many fans glued to their television sets, day after day, watching inning after inning.  This women loved baseball and was a true Yankee fan, she still is from what I hear.  With her husband being a Dodgers fan, a great - fun - rivalry begun and didn't end until the last man was out in the fall.  From what I hear, her husband has thrown in the towel and has decided, after 50+ years to join her in rooting for the Yankees.

Occasionally I see her in A.C. Moore craft store,  shopping for materials to create another one of her amazing projects.  She is talented in more ways than one.  She is not like any other person who has seen their share of heartache, love lost, disappointment, loneliness or plans gone awry but what I can say is this. Her joys have been abundant over the years.  She has seen her children grow and become productive people, she has welcomed grandchildren, and great-grandchildren with so much love one cannot measure.  She has stood by a man, who at times, I'm sure, could be difficult but has been there for better or for worse til death due us part.  This is a love that has endured and succeeded through the years and I admire her for her tenacity and strength.

Usually when a daughter-in-law leaves a family, she tries to put as many memories out of her mind due to "her" insoluble experience.  I have never done that.  For 30 years I've continued to think about many warm, happy and funny experiences I've shared with my former mother-in-law, and I know they are thoughts that will remain with me until the day I die.






Barbie

Heading On Down

"Mom, why don't we have a cell phone?" asked Michael with concern.  "Because you don't need one," replied his mother. 


"Mom, will we ever have one?" asks Michael, who is now getting frustrated. "Yeah, when you go off to college," replied his mother who really doesn't want to talk about it.


Michael then asks, "What about when we go to work?"  "You mean when you go to work while you are in high school?" asks his mother.


"Yeah, will we have one then?" .............. "I don't know, we'll see."


This conversation has come up more than once in my house.  It's a decision I'll be sticking to for as long as I can.  A short time ago I was listening to NPR's discussion on Nomophobia.


Nomophobia (no-mobile-phobia) is the fear of being without your cell phone and it is on the rise.  A past study showed 53% of all people suffer from this.  The percentage is even larger for those from 18-24 years of age, reaching 77% and dipping back down to 66% for those people  aged 25-34.


For me, I could care less whether I have my cell phone on me or not.  I was raised in a time if your car broke down, you walked to the nearest gas station or house for help.  For me, nothing is that important where I have to get a hold of a friend prior to reaching my home, where I can use my land line, sit in a comfy chair and have a nice chat. I find if someone has to get a hold of me, and their message is that important, they can leave it on my message machine at my home and I'll get back to them at my earliest convenience.  

While in Cleveland last week, I had an opportunity to observe many people while my friend was off taking care of personal business.  I sat in a very large lobby just observing people for hours.  What I found was I no longer saw peoples faces.  What I observed was how most people have their head down, constantly, totally missing what is going on around them.  They are busy texting, checking e-mails or playing games, all I see are the tops of their heads.  Are people becoming subservient to their phones, I think maybe they are.  I find this all quite disturbing.  


People are missing out on life, it's passing before their very eyes, and all they can focus on is their phones.  What can be so important you can't leave the phone in your purse or your pocket for a few hours, turned off, without touching it.  Sunday drives with my parents taught me an awful lot.  What it taught me was to look around and see things I wouldn't normally see in my back yard, neighborhood or town.  On Wednesday evenings, my father would take my mother to the grocery store and he and I would sit in the car watching people.  If it had rained, we'd place bets as to who would walk around a rain puddle and who would slosh right through it.  We'd see who would return the cart to the store and who would leave their cart in some discourteous manner, in the parking lot, only for the next patron to deal with their undiplomatic ways.  We'd see if the husband would get out of the car to help his wife load the groceries into the trunk.  My dad taught me to be a good "people watcher" and to obverse your surroundings, which I still do to this day.


Back in the early 90's my niece came to live with us for a month in the summer.  I remember, very well, taking her to Maine with us for our annual sojourn.  The Colony Hotel has a very large wrap around porch where people gather throughout the day.  Alysia and I sat in the afternoon shade people watching.  Each time someone new would enter into the scene, we'd ask each other, "Okay, what does that person do for a living?" We had all kinds of stories to tell each other.  You really have to study someone when asked that question.  You have to look at the clothes, their facial expressions, read their body language and use your imagination.  But what I truly remember about that time was the interaction we shared with each other and the laughs we had.  Something most people no longer engage in when they have a cell phone in their hand.


In my opinion, when you have a phone, you also need to know (and use) proper etiquette.  While riding the shuttle bus back to the hotel, there was a man in the front seat with papers spread out doing business.  He was on his phone, talking loudly, making business appointments.  Since when do I have to be part of his plans.  I find some people have no consideration for the people around them.  I was looking around on the bus for the sign saying, NO CELL phone use aboard this bus. It's only a matter of time cell phones will be banned from public places just like cigarette smoking.  Then what will the nomophobic do?


When riding the shuttles at the Cleveland Clinic, people are tired, stressed, nervous and just plain worn out after a busy day of testing and doctors appointments and I'm sure they are looking for a peaceful ride back to their hotel.  One women entered the bus with her friend and the minute she sat down she started texting her daughter while her friend was talking to her.  Her friend asked her if it wouldn't be better to phone her later in the hotel and her reply, "I'd rather text her at work." Again, this women did not take into consideration other peoples feelings.  Her friends or her daughter.


I guess I'm just an old dinosaur, at the young age of 53, who was raised to be courteous, a good listener, aware of my surroundings and to keep my shoulders back, stomach in and head  high.  I'd much rather have people see the smile and stress lines in my face than the grey coming through the top of my head.   


A submissive person I will never be to my cell phone, therefore, I'll not worry about becoming NOMOPHOBIC. It's just another phobia I need not add to my list. For those who have to be in constant communication via cell phone, take a look and see if you fall into the category of Autophobia.






Barbie
  
J

I now spy....

....with both eyes 

For the first time in years, I am able to read the digital clock that sits next to my bed, watch television and see the dashboard of my car clearly without glasses.

For the 7 days prior to my Lasik surgery, I was so excited.  The morning of, I was a nervous wreck.  It was an hour drive to the doctors office where the surgery was to be performed and couldn't wait to get there so I could get the 5mg of Valium in my system to calm my nerves.  I sent a text to my girlfriend about half way there looking for some comfort and she told me, "Being nervous is normal. Just don't back out of it!!! Remember, they do thousands of these. You will be in capable hands. Make sure you take the Valium!!"

After I checked in at the reception desk, I watched a post op video, was handed a big cup of decaf coffee, paid my bill, took a Valium and was directed to the waiting room.  After a few minutes, the technician checked my left eye once again, taking all kinds of measurements for the doctor and was then seen by Dr. Fleishman.  

Dr. Fleishman is all of 90 pounds soaking wet, has a fantastic personality and a great sense of humor.  She has twin girls who are 3 years old, a sports enthusiast, a sky diver and an older mom, so we had plenty to talk about. I knew I was in good hands.  Especially seeing the crystal statue in the waiting room stating she has performed 20,000 surgeries.

Once I was in the surgical room, I laid down on what looked like a massage table and was given 2 stress balls to hold on to. The assisting nurses asked if I was nervous.  I told them I'd rather be doing this than be in the dentist chair having a tooth drilled and then I wondered just how hard I'd be squeezing the stress balls.  Last week, I was in the dentist chair to have a very minor procedure and the box of Sensodyne toothpaste I was given ended up mangled and unreadable by the time I got out of the chair.

Dr. Fleishman explained the first machine she placed over my eyes would create the flap so the second machine could correct my vision using a laser.  She told me once the flap was made, everything would go black but it would only be for a few seconds.  With the 3 numbing drops the nurse put in each eye, I felt nothing. This procedure took all of 30 seconds.

The nurse then assisted me to the other bed.  When I stood up, I felt like I was back in NYC shrouded in a very dense fog on 5th Avenue.  It was the next procedure where I got to try out those stress balls.  Dr. Fleishman told me she was going to place device around my eyelids to keep them open so the laser could do it's job in correcting my vision.

I still don't know what was done, but it felt like a metal device was clamped around my eyeball.  It was not painful in any way, just a very uncomfortable feeling overall.  Dr. Fleishman told me to stare at the green light at all times, no matter where it moved.  The nurses counted backwards so I knew just how much time was left once the laser started its job.  My right eye took all of 27 seconds and my left eye took 20 seconds.  The balls were hardly used.

Dr. Fleishman then took the flap and placed it back in its correct position and squeegeed my eye to make it smooth and flat.  Watching her do this task was weird and the feeling was very odd.

After the clamps came off, the nurses handed me a funky pair of black glasses to put on, for 3 days, handed me a lollipop and told me I was good to go.  I walked out with my husband and we headed home.

By the time I got home my eyes were burning. No itching sensation and no feeling of sand in my eyes, they just burned like if you touched your eye after cutting up an onion.  You have to lay down with your eyes closed for 2 to 4 hours after the procedure, so I had a quick sandwich in bed, took 2 Tylenol PM and slept for the next 4 hours. When I woke, the burning was gone, I could read the alarm clock and felt great.  A bit tired still from the Tylenol but my eyes felt great.

Tomorrow I can shed the glasses.  I will have to continue with eye drops 4 times a day, and I have 3 different drops I need to use for the next 7 days.  Artificial tears will need to be used for the next few months.  I was told my vision for close up work would be wonderful and it is.  I do not need my reading glasses at all but my vision for distance would be a bit blurry until the brain started communicating with the eyes.  Each day my vision will change, my distance will become sharper and I am pleased with the outcome so far.  The day after my surgery I had to go back for an eye exam and it was the first time in many, many years I could read the bottom line of the eye chart.  I was told 20/20 vision is in order for me.

Was it worth it? Hell, yes.  I was told a long time ago to live big, or don't live at all.  I don't want to be one of those people who go through life saying, "If only I'd a ~ or I wish I had".  I only have one life to live so I might as well do it up big, cause ya just don't know how much time you really have to enjoy yourself and that's what I intend to do, enjoy myself until my final breath.






Barbie

I Spy....

...with my little eyes

Yesterday I was sitting outside, basking in the glorious sunshine.  I had my eyes closed absorbing 

all the vitamin D I could get.  Once I closed my eyes I immediately heard the most beautiful sound, a single bird singing the songs of spring.

While listening to her, I asked myself the question;

what would be worse, being born blind, or going blind years down the road, after taking in all the wonderful sites our world has to offer.

Which would be worse for you?

I've often thought about that, more so lately.  Today I am having Lasik eye surgery so I will no longer need to wear my eye glasses.  I've been wearing bifocals for 3 years and I hate it.  

I blame it on menopause, but my eye doctor looks at me each year and asks, "How old are you now?" When I went for the Lasik exam to see if I was a candidate for the procedure, I again blamed my poor eye sight on menopause. The tech looked at me and said, "Menopause has nothing to do with it, it's your age. Once you hit 40, your eyes change." Gee, thanks for once again reminding me I'm getting older!

I know I won't go blind from this surgery but one still has to ask themselves, what would happen if something went terribly wrong with the procedure and I came out of it blind.  To answer my own question, I'd have to say I'd rather loose my sight after years of being able to see. I'd at least know what the color red looked like, how the feathers of a bird laid on top of each other, what my families faces looked like and what I looked like.

Being born blind, you have to rely on your sense of smell and touch, along with your imagination, in order to enjoy the things around you. How do you describe the color red to someone? A piece of granite stone with the colors brown, gold and white running through it? If someone says to you, "Imagine a tree that is really tall, sporting short branches that sprout beautiful pink flowers that look like small pocketbooks." It'd be pretty tough. If I'd never seen these things before, I'm not sure if I could imagine them, I wouldn't know what to compare the image to.

I know the surgery will be a huge success. I'll once again be able to ski without hitting a mogul and going airborne, I'll be able to approach a tennis ball without misjudging its position, I'll be able to hike mountains without tripping over tree roots and stubbing my toes on rocks, and most of all, I'll be able to wear my Maui Jim sunglasses I've missed sporting for the past 3 years. No more bifocals to interfere with my sports.

I'll let you know how it all turns out.






Barbie

A Room with a View

My home office overlooks our backyard, I refer to this room as my little world of magic.  Each time I sit at my desk to compose a new post, pay bills, create a page for my scrapbook or download photos on my Mac, magic things happen.  This room gives me a warm, fuzzy felling upon entering it and has all the comforts I enjoy. I can bury myself in this room for hours at a time, especially when I'm scrapbooking. It's not so much the items I have in it, but the feeling it gives me and what I take away once I've completed my tasks or projects.


I find the view most enjoyable, regardless of my mood.  It is, a world I can escape to when the boys are hounding me, having a down day, needing to get warm, when it's time to reorganize my thoughts or when I just need a good fix of alone time.  My family knows when I'm in my room, I'm not to be disturbed.

With all the changes in my life, day in and day out, my little world of magic is a constant I can depend on to get me though all of life's ups and downs. I hope you have a special place you can retreat to, and if you don't, I say it's time to find a little cubbyhole that makes you feel special when you're all alone and need to reorganize yourself and your thoughts.






Barbie

Crop til you Drop

A few weeks ago I was invited to participate in a weekend crop with 8 other girls. For those who don't scrapbook, or know anything about it, a crop is a gathering where girls get together and create scrapbook pages for hours....... even days!

My girlfriend, Lee, picked me up bright and early Saturday morning (we choose not to attend Friday night seeing this crop was right in our backyard) and we were at our table, ready to scrap at 8:15 a.m.  I was told this was a small venue, only 65 women, the large crops host up to 185 women who are frantically designing, cutting, glueing, and shopping....... non-stop.  Being a newbie, I didn't know what to expect and was nervous.

My biggest dilemma, was whether or not I'd forget some of my materials and tools I'd need to be very productive. Once a month, Lee will host a 5 hour crop at our church hall and I always have a hard time deciding what to bring, always forgetting something or wishing I had brought a particular item. Knowing my strengths and weaknesses, Lee gave me really good advice on getting organized, and I took it.  She has been participating in weekend crops for some time now and knows the ropes.  Lee told me it was much better to pull photos I'd want to use, pick the papers to go with them, along with all the embellishments to finish your page.  I found it's kinda like going on a vacation. Vendors are set us with wears to sell, so if you forget something, you can walk over to their kiosk and purchase what you need.  As long as I had a fist full on greenbacks, I had now worries.  My only worry, being a paperholic, was that I knew I'd be falling off the wagon....... for the umpteenth time and I might not have brought enough money with me.  My husband has always told me, "Take all you want, but spend all you take".

It didn't take long to get in the groove, so once we all completed a few pages (and it was after 12 noon) we decided to break out the champagne!  One bottle of champagne doesn't go very far between 9 girls but it was just enough to keep us going until dinner was served.  We figured we'd save the wine we brought for after dinner.  With these weekend crops, it's like going to an all inclusive resort.  The cost includes your room, breakfast, lunch and dinner, and mini workshops.

  

This was a vacation for me.  I got to hang with a bunch of really fun girls, sit and crop without the worries of making meals for others, have conversations without being interrupted, drink alcoholic beverages and go to bed and get up when I wanted to. 

Usually when I'm home working on my page layouts, I only complete 2 pages. While at the crop, without interruptions, I was able to complete 21 pages (for some, that's an entire photo album).  I had chosen photos from 1999 and 2000 to work on, when my boys were 2 and 3 years old. For 14 glorious hours I was taken back to a really fun time with Michael and Patrick. There are so many small things I have forgotten about them, these photos show wonderful times that need to be documented.... that's why I meticulously crop these photos into elaborate scrapbook pages.  It's something I love to do. 

When Sunday came, I tried to get back into the groove but was rather tired from Saturday. I hit the hay before Lee, wimping out and calling it a night at 10 pm. She, however, went to the room, crawled into her pj's and went back down to crop until the wee hours of the morning with the other girls.  My last day was not too productive, making mistakes on the Cricut, not knowing how to title my pages, etc.  So, I decided to do some last minute shopping, look at other wonderful creations, exchange e-mails, pack my bags up and along with the 8 other girls, sign up for the weekend crop in November.  

These crops will now be something for me to look forward to.  I can now classify them as my little weekend get-a-ways.  Some girls shop til they drop, and feel good about it.  I however, would much rather crop til I drop, besides, I think my husband and boys need to do that male bonding thing every now and then, whatever that may be!

Sunday morning showed a very good day of Saturdays
cropping

Barbie