"Tomorrow is another day..."

Granddaughters are ballerinas on Tuesday afternoons, so after their class they and their mom came to Grandaddy & Grandma’s house for supper.  As they were coming into our house, calling out our names, Hannah took a photo.  Now it is one of my favorites because when I look at it I can just hear them calling out to us, bringing laughter and fun through our front door!   

Ophelia asked what was for supper and I told her, “Breakfast!”  She asked about bacon and of course there HAS to be bacon!  A big smile came across her face!  Azalea got busy with a project I had put on their little table in the kitchen – coloring a wooden photo frame/ornament for our Christmas tree.  Soon both of them were busy coloring their ornaments.  

After dinner, while the adults were visiting, the girls went to their play area under the steps...a little space with a play kitchen, a stack of drawers for all their treasures, dolls, stuffed animals, doll clothes, etc. and books.  Lots and lots of books.  The place is cramped for two little girls, so they know it’s  okay to bring the things they want to play with into the sitting room.  Azalea asked if I’d come in and read to them, so the three of us cuddled together for some stories.  

 

Soon it was time to head home.  Hannah told the girls to pick up their things and put them away for next time.  But it was nearly their bedtime, so I told her I’d put everything away.  After hugs, kisses, and goodbyes.  The house was quiet again.  Little did Hannah know that I had no intention of putting anything away just yet.  All the things they pulled from their play space last night are exactly where they left them.   

 

I like seeing the evidence that our granddaughters came for another visit!    And I’ll put things away...eventually.  To quote Miss Scarlett, “Tomorrow is another day!”  

 

I have officially become the grandmother I used to make fun of.

Always remember: if you have a pulse, you have a purpose.  Make your life count!

Most comforting thing I've read this week...

 

Remember me between the stitches...

I used to write a blog about sewing.  Since that blog is sort of gone with the wind, I decided to share just a few of my favorite postings from that blog on this one. 

December 26, 2009...

    I would like to share an email I got from a friend that I see once a year - at Camp Sychar in Mt. Vernon, Ohio. She and I grew up there, albeit many years apart! I am 56 years old and she's a spring chicken! 

    After looking at some of my pictures on facebook and reading the blog posting about my dear Mother, Kim Harmon sent this note: "I remember your Mother from when I was little and I was just telling my kids the other day (while looking @ your photos) how kind she was to everyone. She ALWAYS had such a sweet smile and sweet spirit about her that even though I didn't get to know her as much as I now wish I would have, I'm so thankful for the example she gave us during those short 10 days of the year that we spend together.  I also wanted to share with you a little quote my Grandmother DeLong wrote in my Diary when I was a small little girl. She died when I was 12, and the Diary is a "Holly Hobbie" one so I know I must have been like 8-9 years old maybe when she signed it.... she wrote: 'When you're old and mending britches ~ remember me between the stitches.'  Maybe you've heard that before but I loved what she wrote and through the years it's made me smile when I mend something and think of her. I have her old Sewing Basket, which I use as my own. It's extremely unorganized and still has most of Grandma's stuff in it! I just can't get the nerve up to throw stuff out!"  Thank you, Kim, for sharing that with me!

Reading that post again made me smile.  I had the sweetest mother and I'm glad other people knew that, too!  

Always remember that if you have a pulse, you have a purpose.  Make your life count!

Definition of Marriage

Wish I could remember who sent this to me so I could give them credit.  Thought this would make you smile tonight...  

In our case...Joe Green's wife is the weirdo! 😁

And remember, if you have a pulse, you have a purpose.  Make your life count!

Watching the Dodgers

Watching the Dodgers play baseball with my husband.  

Here's the scenario...

        announcers are announcing

        volume is turned up kind of loud so my husband can hear it clearly

        closed-captioning is on because he can't hear everything

        Joe is in his favorite chair and I'm in mine

        Joe gives me play-by-play while we're watching and the announcers                

        are...........announcing

        I'm trying to hear the announcers, read the closed-captioning, and listen to Joe

        I'm not doing any of that well

        Betts, Freeman, Lux, Turner and the guys are doing their thing and doing it well

        Urias or maybe Kershaw is pitching

        I ask questions and get explanations that help my understanding of the game

        Roberts is chewing gum and observing

        Joe either complains about Bellinger or says he's doing better

        Dodgers win - we celebrate

        Dodgers lose - we remind one another it's only a game

😁

 

...asking for a friend

Is there a deadline for when packing boxes should be empty, broken-down, and recycled after the move to another house?  I’m asking for a friend.

 

We both know I’m not asking for a friend.  I just want someone who reads this blog to make me feel better after having moved into a house one year ago this week with boxes still randomly sitting about.  Most things are unpacked, but my sewing room is a maze of boxes.  The sofa that belongs in there is in our neighbor’s garage.  The table with built-in lamp that belonged to my sister is still in a giant box.  I’m not quite sure when I’ll get around to unpacking that room.  Not all the pictures are hanging on the wall yet.  

 

I just celebrated my 69^th birthday and I’ve lived in 22 places.  

1.     Greensboro parsonage #1

2.     Greensboro parsonage #2

3.     Galax parsonage

4.     Woodlawn parsonage

5.     Abingdon parsonage

6.     McComb parsonage

7.     Sabina parsonage

8.     Columbus/rented a room from aunt & uncle

9.     Columbus/German Village

10.  Columbus apartment

11.  Wilmore trailer #1

12.  Wilmore trailer #2

13.  McClure parsonage, which was an apartment in the church building 

14.  Dryden parsonage

15.  Ft. Oglethorpe parsonage

16.  Radford parsonage

17.  Alcoa parsonage that we liked so much after 10 years we bought it!

18.  Cleveland purchased home

19.  Kingsport parsonage

20.  Kingsport purchased home

21.  Maryville purchased home

22.  Alcoa former parsonage that we bought from the man we sold it to!

 

My daddy was a minister.  The first seven moves in my life was with my family, growing up in the south, then moving north to Ohio.  My mother did most of the packing when I was little but when I was 9 years old, she taught me how to pack up my bedroom.  She didn’t help me, but sat down with me, making suggestions on how to keep things from being broken in the move.  Who knew that pajamas and nightgowns wrapped around lamps and jewelry boxes would protect them!  Underwear was good for my little breakable things on the dresser.  And rolls of toilet paper could make a great box filler!  

 

Now I’m a grown-up, married to a minister, and know how to pack really well.  I kept a list of numbered boxes on my computer, with the contents of each box listed there.  Each room had their own boxes marked with the rooms they belonged in for our movers to take care of.  Signs were hung above each door to each room and we did great!  My organizational skills were put to use and worked extremely well.  Most of our moves were done this way.  (Pre-computer, I used a notebook and lined paper for the same information.)

 

Those methods worked extremely well until this last move to our forever home.  

 

Because we lived in the next town...boxes were packed and brought over periodically.  Nearly every time we came to the house while it was being remodeled, we’d carry over some boxes and stick them in closets.  No numbered boxes.  No lists.  I’m really regretting that now.  Hard to find what I need out in the garage which is still FILLED with boxes.  

 

The next time I move, I won’t have to pack anything!  

Next time I move...it’ll be feet first!

 

 

 

 

If you have a pulse, you have a purpose.  Make your life count!