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Today is Clark’s Birthday.  Hurray!!  He’s my fabulous Hubs!  Happy Birthday, Clark!!

It’s easy to remember his birthday because, well, I’ve known him for about 35 years.  I’m also pretty good at remembering birthdays.  Sending out cards is another story.  I tend to either send them out late or not at all.  I’ve had an ongoing deal with myself for longer than I can remember to work on that personal flaw.  Each year when the New Year rolls around I challenge myself to not only send every single person I know and love a birthday card but to also send it to them on time.  And, each year I break that vow.  Not on purpose, but because I tend to be a bit unorganized.  (A sign of creativity I’ve been told – *probably by my mother*)

When I woke up this morning, I put on my robe, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed towards our basement.  I walked down the stairs into the messy, cluttered, musty space under the first floor of our home.   I needed a picture of Clark.  I needed a picture ~ or two ~ of him to post on Facebook.  It’s been a longtime tradition of mine – along with everyone in the universe – to start our loved ones birthdays off on the right foot by publicly posting old, forgotten pictures of them and attaching some sort of sentimental blurb under it.  We plaster these Jpgs (pronounced Jaaayyy-pegs) out onto the World Wide Web and into cyberspace for the whole world to see. Well, I exaggerate.  But if you’ve Googled your name recently you’ll find I’m not too far off on my statement

At the bottom of my basement stairs, I walked back through a slim, cluttered hallway and towards what was once a working darkroom that Clark and I had built in a cut off, private section down there.  I passed up stacks of stored once treasured objects laying everywhere that had once held coveted spots in the rooms upstairs.   I got to the door of the old photo room, opened it and carefully stepped into what now looked like a cluttered room where most of our accumulated treasures from 30 years of marriage had landed. I looked around and thought to myself, good grief, we’ve become hoarders…

There were boxes and boxes of photos in that room which were saved in their original envelopes and stuffed into drawers.  Jammed drawers that you could barely open up because there were heavy stacks of boxes upon boxes filled with junk and memorabilia crammed all over the place.  The walls were also filled with cabinets that held a bonanza of old photo albums.  Eventually, I got down to work and started searching for a few pictures that were Facebook worthy.

Not too far into my task I became unfocused as I sifted through what seemed like a million unorganized photos.  It’s easy to get sidetracked when you’re looking at a photogenic history of your life.  The sentimentality of the task pulled at my heartstrings.  I started to examine the content of the piles of photos I was sifting through rather than finding photos of my hubs.  Photography sure had changed…..

  • The Selfie – Those popular self photo’s taken with smart phones and hand-held digital camera’s, which are usually flattering and an attempt to *appear casual*  had definitely not made it onto the scene yet.  It seems that back before the digital age and social media, people took more pictures of the world around them than they did of themselves. Clark, being the nature lover that he is, seemed to be fascinated with landscape photos.  I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at.  He also shot tons of photos of birds…..and animals at Zoos. But, no selfies.

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  • Photo Bombing – When I did come across the occasional photo of Clark from the olden days, I noticed that a few had some pioneer photo bombers in the background!  They were different though than the photo bombs of today where the pranksters purposely put themselves into the view of the photograph with a goofy smile or waving as to tell you that they’re back there and they GOTCHYA!!  These photo bombers were mostly elderly Aunts, Uncles or family members simply misplaced in the backdrop of the photo.  Often funnier than the bombers of today.

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  • Hairstyles – They will always give away what decade you are looking at.

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  • Labeling Photo’s – I was always told to label the back of my photos with names and dates because one day I’d forget that information.  I scoffed at that bit of advice knowing I’d never forget people or names or places.  So, I didn’t label anything.  And, for the life of me I could not place who half the people in the photo’s with me were.  We must have been close pals though because mostly we were hugging and laughing together.  Huh??

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After a few hours of walking down memory lane, I had finally found a handful of pictures that would work as a tribute to my Hubs.  They were awesome photos and during a time when we first met and started dating.  His hair was long and he sported a thick, full mustache.  He wore t-shirts with pictures of rock bands on them and cut off, frayed jean shorts.  He drove a convertible and had a wild streak in him that caught my eye right away.  These days he’s traded in that youthful attire and look for work slacks, ties and weekend golf shirts.

It was odd-looking back at those old photos.  It’s odd how you don’t realize how much you age and mature from year to year until you look back.  It hit’s you then and you think solemnly to yourself, wow, I’ve aged….  You wonder where the time went.  How did thirty years fly by so fast.  And, were the memories recorded in those old, treasured photo’s really as glorious as our minds would love to convince us they were?  Or, is it true what they say; that it’s fun to remember the way things used to be, but the way things used to be probably could never live up to how we recall them.  We tend to glorify the past with fabulous stories and timeless photo’s that make you think ‘all the world’s a sunny day…’


Until death do us part

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It’s Tuesday morning.  It’s been my norm for years and years to get up early.  Very early.  Usually between 4:30 – 5am.  Since I decided to retire early – last December – I’ve gotten into the habit of sleeping in late.  Well, late for me.  I usually wake up around 7am.  This was alarming to me at first.  I felt shame and guilt.  I felt lazy.  As my Mom used to say to me, “half the day is gone!”  It must be an Irish thing.  She used to get up early.  For as long as I can remember, she was up before the sunrise.   She would have half of her housework done by 7am.  But, I’ve gotten used to the luxury of sleeping in “late.”

So, its morning.  I’m having coffee.  I’m sitting at my kitchen counter and looking at a blank, white screen in front of my sleepy eyes.  My blog is calling to me. It pulls me in.  But for the past few months I’ve had a sort of writers block.  Clark says I’m forcing it – that when I’m ready to write again, it will come naturally.  Like it always has.  And, he’s right.

Brian – my youngest son – has said to me in the past that when I don’t have anything to write about, perhaps it’s because I have not been doing anything “write worthy”.  He’s observant.  I believe this to be the case of my self-proclaimed block.

 

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I could chalk it up to the transition of summer into fall if I really needed a scapegoat.  The changing of the seasons.  The fault could be laid at the heels of that happy sad place we find ourselves in when saying goodbye to one season and welcoming in the next.  I always feel a little bit melancholy as the seasons change.   And when I’m melancholy, I tend to take a break from writing.  Oh, the changing seasons is a cycle of life that I love – one that I really do not think I could live without witnessing year in and out, but still, it’s a constant reminder of how fast time goes.  The seasons speed by.  You blink your eyes and time flies.  Really, it would be unusual to go through an entire Summer without hearing at least a dozen times…that old familiar phrase..”I can’t believe the Summer is almost over!”  And it’s true.  It’s always a shock to see how fast it went by and how the next season has miraculously arrived without you noticing that it snuck up on you.

But, there it is.  Fresh and new.  A new beginning. A new cycle.  A new Season.   A fresh start.  With all the promise and excitement of what lies ahead for you.  New resolutions. New untapped energy.  Come on New Season…I’m ready!

 

Seasons Change

 

However, If I am going to be honest, my writer’s block could most likely be chalked up to the Clark Factor.  My better half tends to be around the house more than he used to be.  Right now he is upstairs snoozing.  He took the day off.  In all honesty, he takes a lot of time off of work these days.  He is somewhat semi retired.  He usually golf’s on the days he is not working, but I had a mini empty-Nester melt down last week and accused him of not wanting to spend time with me.  Suddenly, this week he decided to spend his time off with me rather than hitting the links with his golf buddies.  Coincidence?  Nah, I don’t think so.  But, I didn’t fight it.  I decided to soak in the attention and enjoy spending some quality one on one time with my Hubs!  YaY!!

Booo!!  By noon on the first day that we spent together,  I was wondering what in the world I was thinking when I practically bullied him into spending his day off with me rather than the guys.  In theory, I was going to love having him around!!  Hurray!! Us time!!   In reality, it didn’t quite work out that way.  He was in my space.  All.Day.Long.  It’s not that he was actually doing anything wrong – I just had not realized how much I liked my days to myself and my routine kept in place.  I didn’t want to spend my day running to the hardware store with him.  Or, dropping him off at the car dealership to get his car looked at.  I didn’t want to eat lunch at 10:30am or watch the financial station on TV all morning.  Or worse yet, watch golf on TV.  And, when we went to the grocery store together, it took some getting used to watching him plow the cart down the center of the aisle and getting into some sort of freakish road rage event with the other shoppers.  *Holy Cow!!*

By 3pm that day, I started to suspect that he was purposely trying to tick me off so I would beg him to please.. please, for the sake of our marriage…go golfing!!!  And, I did.  I told him to go golf with his friends.  He was happier,  I was happier.  I realized that having him around gave me an odd sense of feeling all out of whack.

Slowly (and Thank Goodness!!)  eventually he reverted back to his old ways.  I once again became a (happy) golf widow.  And more importantly, I was able to write again.  He still hangs around somewhat in the early mornings before he heads out for his day with the guys, but that’s a compromise I can live with. 

So now, these days when I am happily alone at home and carrying on with my usual routine, I wonder about what full retirement will be like.  How do retiree’s do it?  How do they learn to live together all day long without driving each other crazy??  Is it something that simply takes getting used to?  And if so, how long is the transition period?

I Love My Hubs!!  He’s my better half and my soul-mate and for better or worse, he’s my best friend!!  Until Death Do us part!!!  But, I pull my hair out when he’s around all day.  I feel like I’m losing my ever-lovin’ mind!!  I can not be the only one who goes nuts when your loved one suddenly decides to spend the day with you.  Can I?


 

 

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12 ways to spend your time and money at Target

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I’m sure by now you have all heard about the massive security breach of credit and debit cards used at Target stores across America.  During the 2013 Holiday season no less.  Now, this week, we hear of another cyber attack and data breach at Home Depots from coast to coast.

I was having coffee with Clark when the story hit the news last week.  I could not believe my ears.  How can this happen twice in the span of a year, I asked him.  And, how do these cyber thief’s pull off these big scale heists?

It’s that cloud!  That cyber cloud that we’re all up in.  That’s the culprit and the source of these leaks.

 

Me: I don’t understand all of this cloud stuff.

 Clark:  *…turns to me *blank stare*

 Me: Well, do you?

 Clark:  *continued blank stare, followed by incredulous look*  pfffft, of course I do….. (insulted)

 MeWell, then what do they mean by “you’re info is stored up in the cloud?”  What cloud?  Where’s this mysterious cloud at? Is it an actual, literal, tangible location?

 Clark  *Well, they don’t tell you thattt. 

Me:   Oh, so you don’t know either. 

 

 

I thought about this for a long time.  I don’t like the fact that I don’t feel safe using my credit card at Target anymore.   Target!!   It’s my home away from home.   I’m there a lot.  It’s not the same Target from my youth.  It’s got snappy advertising now.  And, fun products.  I can get lost in there for hours.  Not to mention, it’s a great place to spend money.  What was once a store for purchasing your cleaning supplies, is now an oasis for wasting hours of time and hard earned cash.

 


 

 

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 Twelve ways to spend your time and money at Target

 

 

1. Circle the parking lot for 15 minutes looking for the best parking space.  If you are there during a busy season, (holiday and school supply shopping) keep your eye on the front door of the store as you enter the parking lot.  As customers walk out, gun it over to the aisle they are headed for.  Then do the slow creep two feet behind them, stalking them all the way to their spot with your car.  Wait for them to load their stuff into trunk, pull out and then….Success!

 

2. Upon entering the store, go directly to the Starbucks that is conveniently located near the entrance.  Purchase an expensive latte with extra whip topping.  You’re going to be strolling the aisles for a while.  Go for the Venti.

 

3. Head straight to the cosmetic section.  Wander through these aisles for a long time.  Purchase new makeup, makeup remover, wrinkle creams, hair shampoos & conditioners, smoothing potions, frizz sprays, gloss sprays, tanning lotions, trendy colored nail polish.  Feel satisfied and move on.

 

4. On your way to the cleaning supplies, get diverted into the clothing section.  Buy a t-shirt in every color.  You can never have enough.  Set the Latte down and browse through the work out gear.  Toss some yoga pants into your cart.  They are comfy to wear while watching TV.  Notice the new PJ sets as you pass up the intimate apparel section.  Be strong.  You don’t need new PJ’s.

 

5. Take a leisurely stroll through the housewares section.   Decide you need some new picture frames for the digital photos on your phone that you won’t end up having printed.  Purchase two.  Also, put the star shaped candy dish that caught your eye into your cart.   Smell every candle on display.  Decide you can not live without the tropical scented one.  Toss it into your cart and move on.

 

6. Feel a bit of Guilt.  Decide that you don’t really need all of the items you have in your cart.  Dig the tropical scented candle back out.  Look around to see if anyone is watching you.  Stuff it in between the two stacks of Kitchen towels you are standing in front of.

 

7. Think about purchasing those kitchen towels.  Your kitchen could use an facelift.  Toss the new towels in your cart.

 

8. Notice the absence of cleaning supplies in your cart.  Circle back around to the household aisle.  Hurray!!  Toilet Paper is on sale.  Grab the large, awkward sized 20 roll package and place it under the cart.  Grab another one since it’s on sale.  Balance it on top of cart.

 

9. Look down at phone and notice Text From Hubby  Where are you??  Are you going to be home soon?  Ignore text. Turn off phone.

 

10. Wheel over to the magazine and book racks.  Flip through your favorite decorating magazine.  And cooking.  Buy both.  Toss in this weeks People for good measure.

 

11. Head to the Checkout.  Feel a bit shocked when the cashier rings up the grand total of $187.35.  Fret over purchasing with Credit Card for fear of data getting breached.  Shrug off the worry and hand over your Master Card.  Sign on dotted line and you’re on your way.

 

12. Head for parking lot.  Look for car.  Where’s my car?  Which aisle am I parked in????

How to become a seasoned traveler

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Hey!  It’s Summertime!!!   Time to take to the highways and sky-ways for travel.  Here are a few helpful tips on becoming a seasoned traveler.  You’re Welcome!

 


 Helpful Hints

 

  • Dramatically roll eyes when your fun friend suggests taking a weekend trip together while out having cocktails

  • Order another round of drinks

  • Jump on board

  • Discuss possible destinations with fun friend

  • Start small – possibly a road-trip to a neighboring state.

  • Pay the high tab from cocktails you’ve been having while discussing fun road-trip and decide to pin down destination soon.

  • Ignore work, chores, spouse, kids so you can obsess all week about where to go on fun girlfriends road trip

  • Decide a weekend is not long enough

  • Extend weekend trip to an extended long weekend road-trip.

  • Call fun friend at work to discuss extended long weekend road-trip details.

  • Scrap the idea of road-trip.  Decide to fly across the country

  • Look for good airfare

  • Pay exorbitant price for airfare

  • Book earliest flight of the day as not to miss a single minute of fun get-away.

  • Look for good hotel deal in a small, reasonably priced hotel.

  • Book a suite at a swanky hotel

  • Get disgusted at lack of weekend getaway outfits.

  • Go shopping for new wardrobe.

  • Sneak new wardrobe into house when hubby is away at work

  • Feel guilty

  • Hide new wardrobe in back of spare bedroom closet.

  • Call fun friend to discuss new weekend wardrobe

  • Get excited

  • Brilliantly decide to extend weekend road-trip to a week-long get away.  Hurray!

  • Go shopping for more clothes

  • Start obsessing about weather for fun girlfriend’s trip

  • Go shopping for comfy vacation walking shoes

  • Buy three pairs

  • Call fun friend and tell her about new, comfy walking shoes.

  • Check out vacation destination weather again

  • Worry about possible rain

  • Screw the rain.  Who cares!

  • Go shopping for new rain slicker and travel umbrella

  • Call fun friend and discuss new purchases.  And, weather.

  • Lug old suitcase up 2 weeks before trip and set it in corner of bedroom

  • Decide old suitcase is not good for fun getaway

  • Go shopping for new weekender bag

  • Call fun friend and tell her about new luggage

  • Check on vacation weather again

  • Start laying out clothes for fun girls getaway.

  • Call fun friend to ask what she is packing.

  • Over-pack

  • Unzip suitcase extender for extra room

  • Take a few things out of suitcase that you decide you don’t need.

  • Re-zip overstuffed suitcase

  • Have fun friend stay with you the night before leaving on fun friends getaway.

  • Check out vacation weather with fun friend.

  • Ask hubby to drive you to airport in the morning.

  • Worry about possible, heavy traffic on the way to airport.  And, the weather.

  • Set alarm clock for 3am to avoid being late for first flight out

  • Lug overstuffed, heavy suitcase down the stairs and out to waiting car.

  • Arrive at airport 2 hours early for first flight because there was no traffic.

  • Board airplane.

  • Get situated in seat and worry about who will be sitting with you in third open seat.

  • Avoid eye contact with boarding passengers

  • Pray for someone skinny.

  • Cough and pretend to have massive head cold as boarding passengers check out open seat.

  • Turn to fun friend in excitement as seat remains open.

  • Talk about weather at destination

  • Talk about all the fun you will have

  • Order a Bloody Mary from Flight attendant

  • Talk about how this will be the BEST TRIP EVER.

  • Land at destination.

  • Lug overstuffed suitcase out to cab

  • Wait in massively long cab line

  • Load heavy suitcase into trunk of cab

  • Swerve away from Airport and Off You Go!!

  • Arrive at Swanky Hotel.

  • Check into room.

  • Drop off luggage

  • HURRAY!   Have a GREAT fun friend getaway!!

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A Bite of the Big Apple

 

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I have been fortunate enough to have traveled to NYC a time or two. Actually, Clark and I go there whenever our schedules permit. We both absolutely love that city.  It’s big and bustling and has an energy like no other place I know of.  I have wanted to take my sister there for a long time.   I’ve brought up the topic to her more than once.  I would beg and plead. “It will be fun!” “You’ll love it!!” Then one day, just like that, she agreed! Whoa! I was shocked! My heart flipped over! I could feel my NYC Tourist adrenaline start to surge through my veins. She agreed!! Hallelujah!!!

So after months of planning and what would become daily emails and phone calls, off we went. We were New York Bound! Big Apple, here we come!

We stepped off the plane in NYC – with suitcases in tow, we grabbed the first cab we could. Hurray! We were on our way to our fancy Big Apple Hotel!! The cab driver was like an Indy car racer! How exciting!! Swerving in and out of heavy traffic. Honking his horn at anyone who got in his way. I LOVED it! My sister, mouth gaping open, was holding on for dear life. I assured her we were safe and that after a few days, she’d get used to the fast pace of the big city. Did I mention that she is from a small town in Indiana?

When we got to our hotel, we were excited that our room was ready for us. (We took the first plane out and arrived at 8am – didn’t want to waste a single New York Minute!) We headed straight up to drop off our luggage.  We had decided to book a suite. And boy was it ever sweet! It was fabulous and big and the definition of luxury! It was situated in a corner room on a high floor. It was probably bigger than most NYC apartments. We had a great view of the city. And skyline. This was living!! It had 2 bathrooms and plush bathrobes and an amazing mini bar (with equally amazing prices!!) We reluctantly made a pact not to touch anything in it regardless of how tempted we got.  That was settled!  We changed and off we went. The Big Apple!!

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And so it went – Our days were packed. We got up at the crack of dawn and would fall in bed exhausted well after midnight each day. I took her everywhere a first time New York Visitor would want to go. We stood atop of the Empire State Building and went to the Top of the Rock. We visited the 911 Memorial & Museum and took the ferry out to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. We went to the ABC & NBC studios and made our way through mobs of people in Times Square. We visited The Ed Sullivan Theater where David Letterman tapes his show. Every day, we walked past Radio City Music Hall and Carnegie Hall which our hotel was situated between.  We explored Central Park and the Upper West Side (My Fav!) – as well as Midtown and Downtown. We traveled by subway everywhere we went. Or walked. And walked. And walked. We went to Grand Central Station and shopped on 5th Avenue. We went to Plays and had late night dinners. We spent Friday night in Little Italy and Soho.

The day before we left, we decided to walk the Brooklyn Bridge. Oh Yay!! So exciting!! And Fun!! This historic bridge was massive. And Beautiful. And the doorway onto the island of Manhattan from Brooklyn. And it was crowded. Yikes! ridiculously so.

We found our way to the foot of the bridge and started to embark up the ancient, wooden slats that made up the narrow walking path used to cross the bridge.  It was probably about 10 – 15 feet wide. There was a white stripe (or was it yellow?) painted down the center of it which made it even narrower. We were surrounded by thousands of people who also were walking the bridge. And, riding there bikes over it. WHAT?? Whoa!. Half of it was for walking and we shared the other half with bikers who were riding over it at dangerous, high speeds. At first I was a bit uneasy with the way the bikes would so closely whizz past us. But then, you forgot about them as you got caught up in the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen. You were walking across this amazing structure and you could see views of the NYC skyline that you’d only seen before in books or on television. It was magnificent! And breathtaking.

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I had my camera and was taking 100’s of pictures. I spotted a group of guys doing maintenance on the Bridge. They had climbed up the thick, metal wires that helped to suspend the structure. They were up several hundred feet over the water. There were lots of people taking pictures of these guys. The photographer in me wanted to get that shot!  I turned to focus on one of the men and BAM! Before I knew it, I was knocked off my feet and laying face down on the Brooklyn Bridge.

‘OMG..what just happened?’

I was a bit dazed. I looked up and saw my sister standing over me. Mouth gaping open. With a stunned look on her face. And then I heard a loud, snarly voice swearing at me. “What the F***…this is the bike lane you idiot”

Hmmph. How Rude!! I looked around and got up quickly. I could see a bike laying on its side. It’s rude rider knocked off to the ground. (Dear God, had I caused that?) In my excitement to get a good shot, my foot had accidentally crossed over the white line and caused a collision. (The rude bike rider was not very forgiving.)  I stood there in my touristy red shirt, camera hanging crookedly around my neck and scuffed up knee and kept apologizing over and over again. She just kept rudely snarling at me. It was one of those humiliating times where you hope nobody noticed. But you know they all did.

The embarrassing moment passed and we parted ways, I kept telling my sister how terrible I felt. She kept saying.. “Oh, nobody was paying attn.” I knew she was lying but somehow her words made me feel better.

I never did get the shot. But I did get this shot….

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How can you write about a ‘FAB! NYC Vacation’ in one itty-bitty blog post? It’s an impossible task!

My sister and I had the time of our life! We ate. We drank. We went without sleep. We walked all over that huge, beautiful city with that touristy, deer in the headlight look. And, loved every minute of it!! More than once, I caught my sister out of the corner of my eye with her mouth gaping open. Just staring in wonderment and awe.

Like all vacations, it went too fast.  But we have such GREAT memories!

Take a look….

 

 

 

Sister’s FAB NYC Vaca!!!

We’reeee Backkkkkkk……

 Sisters

 

I was overwhelmed when I returned home from our FABULOUS SISTER’S NYC VACATION to find as many comments and posts to Twenty-Thirteen asking for details and a follow-up to our Super-Duper-Awesome get-away!!  Wow! Thanks, People!

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I need to sort through all of the glorious, memorable details and collect my scattered, exhausted thoughts first.  As a teaser, I can tell you that there was an unfortunate incident that left me flattened (not to mention, embarrassed!!) atop of the Brooklyn Bridge.  Oh My!!  My sister looked on, mouth gaping open……

Well, you will just have to be patient.  Stay Tuned!!

There’s no place like home…  There’s no place like home…

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Meet The Hawks

Wednesday Feature

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Whether you’re a seasoned, hardcore hockey fan or you’ve jumped on the playoff’s bandwagon, how could you not get caught up in the excitement of Playoff Hockey?  It’s one of my favorite times of the year.  Ranking right up there with Christmas.  And, summer vacations.  I Love this team!!

Getting to know the Chicago Blackhawks

Easter

 

* reblogged from my own blog – One of my very early posts.  My style of writing has changed a bit, but the message is timeless.

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Happy Easter!!

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I sit in my kitchen early in the morning drinking coffee before anyone else in the household wakes up. It has always been my style. It has always been my favorite part of the day. The house is quiet. It is the calm before the storm. Raising three active boys, I knew it was only a matter of time before the storm came. Each day. And it usually did. Not in a bad way. But, in an active, chaotic way. I loved every part of it. Bring it on!

Today, tho the habit is deeply rooted and I still wake up early, the chaos is mostly gone. My children have grown. One married. One graduated from college and working. One living away from home at college. It’s mostly just Bruce and I these days. I think back on Easters past and how exciting this holiday used to be for our family.

Stay up late to fill Easter baskets. Hide them in the house. Get up early in the morning to three little boys racing from room to room trying to find their loot.

Then church. It was always a battle to try to calm everyone down. The prior weeks leading up to the big day, I would go out and shop for new outfits for each of them. When they were young, the outfits were always coordinating. They usually included suspenders and knee socks. Something they cringe at now. As they got older, they each developed their own sense of style. I still felt the maternal need to get them new duds for the holiday. So, I did.

Half the time on the way to church, a brawl would break out for some reason or another. There they would be in their new clothes, sitting strategically in our mini van to ensure the least damage to their appearance by the time we made our 10 minute drive to our destination. They knew how to push each others buttons. Inevitably, the buttons would be pushed. I would get stressed out. Clark would threaten to pull the car over.

We always made it to church in one piece. We would plant forced smiles on our faces so that nobody would know that 5 minutes earlier world war III was breaking out in our car. It was not until years later that I found out that most of our friends had that very similar experience on their ride to church. It was not unique to us. It was normal. It was the American way!

After church, the boys would find their friends in the church gym while the adults would gather and have coffee and talk for a little while. I loved this part of church. I still do. Time to catch up with everyone. This group of people end up being your church family. In a way, every Sunday after church felt like a mini family holiday or gathering. You are not born into each others lives. You find each other. Bonds form. A family by choice.

I was raised catholic. Irish catholic. That is a strong combo. Irish blood runs deep and loyal. Both of my parents worked at Notre Dame and because of this, we had the special perk of being able to attend Notre Dame at a deeply discounted price. You paid for room and board. The education was free. My friends think that for this reason, it was ironic that I ended up at a small, private, expensive protestant college.

I frequently tell my friends that I know it was not ironic, but rather, Divine Intervention. God knew exactly what he was doing when he plucked me out of my environment and plopped me down in the middle of Hope College. There, I met Bruce who I ended up marrying. There I found my true faith. A deep faith by today’s standards. Maybe it was the freedom that you experience while in College or maybe it was my age, but it was then that I realized that faith is a choice. You choose to be a believer or not. You realize that in the end, we are all worshiping the same God. We are just going down different roads and paths in our journeys.

Many Easter’s later, as a mom of three boys ~~ and now a beautiful daughter in law ~~ I think back fondly of all of those Easter mornings. The wild beginning, the chaos of trying to calm everyone to get ready for church, coming home to our big feast. I Love family holidays. I love being all together. It is my favorite thing in the world. We sit down for meals, sometimes for hours. I Look around my table and know how truly blessed I am. I have a beautiful, healthy family. My boys are the best of friends. They all love Bruce’s wife, Lauren. She fits in perfectly. They look up to their father with such respect and love. Today they might even admit that, yes, he did know what he was talking about most of the time when lecturing and giving advice.

So, however you choose to spend your day tomorrow, whether you choose to celebrate privately, with a family of choice or the family you were born into, on this day before Easter, may you all feel the special blessing that family brings to your life and of Easters past and present. And may you feel the deep meaning of the sacrifice given up for you through the cross. Happy Easter!!

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it’s all in the name

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Branding.

What’s all the fuss lately?  I seem to run across article after article referring to “branding yourself.”

I started my blog casually. I saw my handsome hubs, Clark, doing something witty one day and just decided to write it down for all the world to read!

OK, not true.

The real story ~ I was prompted a bit by my dear friend, Bonnie, to write.  Well, prompted a lot.  Come to think of it, she was borderline abusive about it.  But I digress.  Sweet Bonnie encouraged me to write.  She saw something in my stories.  Thought I had a gift and should be using it rather than letting it sit stagnant.  So, I wrote.

Who in the world would have ever thought it would have turned into this little obsession of mine a year later?  There’s so much to think about.  Who knew?   You don’t just sit down and toss out some thoughts onto your keyboard and hit “post.”  You start to live and breathe it.  (Yes, I know, never end a sentence with a preposition)

Creating a brand means essentially to think of some cohesive core values that represent you and your blog.

Branding.  You must start off with a catchy title!

Huh?  How about Twenty Thirteen!  Hmmm.  Not so catchy, but hey!!… that was the year I started!  So there’s that.  It will be self-explanatory years from now!  People will identify that I have been blogging since wayyyy bacckkk thennnn!

To-blog-or-not-to-blog_943_426068_0_14072635_500I certainly do not take myself too seriously when writing a post. So why in the world do I want to work on creating a brand for myself that speaks to my audience?

Well, I guess because the longer you blog the more you become obsessed with it.  You slowly start to want to build an audience.  Blogging grabs a hold of you and all you can do is think about is your next post.  I constantly have blog material going through my head.  I can be out do anything, with anyone, and think to myself (and often out loud… ) “oh, that’s great blog material!!” It becomes your mantra.  And part of your daily routine.  Especially when you find humor in simple, ordinary events that happen on any given day.

Face it people!… you are just one huge, humorous blog post waiting to happen.

So, as I often do, I have caved in to the pressure.  *shame*   I have decided to create a fab, new title for my blog!!

Will this create an identity crisis between myself and my readers?  Will they still recognize my blog if the old “twenty thirteen” is replaced by something shiny and  brand new?

Or, Is it actually really necessary to change my title?  I havvveee become a bit fond of it.  Even tho it is a bit vague and generic.  It just feels like….mine.  It feels like home.

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Hey, wait just a minute.  Maybe I AM home!  Maybe Twenty Thirteen IS my identity and my brand.  It does feel comfy like an old sweatshirt.  And, people have already become wildly fascinated with it.  OK, I exaggerate.  But they DO know it’s my blog title.  : )

So, maybe all the fuss about creating a catchy title and developing your brand is just hot air. Maybe, with time, you DO develop a brand simply by being consistent with posts, writing good, solid content and taking care of your site on a day-to-day basis.  Perhaps your brand evolves into something spectacular all by itself just by being yourself and blogging your little heart out.

 

Hmmm, I must give this more thought.  Is it too late in the game to change my title?  Is it even necessary now that I have been blogging for a year?  Do you all know what you are coming to read when you visit my page?  Do you feel you have a handle on branding?   Do you feel you’ve branded your site well and has it served you in a positive way?

Thoughts?

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The Taxi

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Life moves on.

I’ve always used that statement flippantly.  An off the cuff phrase.  It has an entire new meaning to me now.  It’s deep and meaningful and a statement that is intertwined with healing and moving forward.

It’s Thursday.  That means I’m on my way to meet my very dear friend Jeri for coffee.  She’s the kind of friend anyone would be lucky to have.  Always happy.  Always smiling.  She makes me laugh.  When she walks into a room there is an energetic force that enters with her.  Everyone loves her.  I’m happy because we’ve set up a standing weekly date on Thursdays to get together to meet for coffee.  Or manicures.  Or lunch in the city.  Or just so we can talk.  And lately, I’ve been doing all the talking.  And Jeri listens.

It’s been an emotional few months.  The loss of my Mom hit me hard.  It hit all of us hard – my siblings, my kids, my nieces and nephews.  It also left a mark on my Aunts and Uncles and, well, pretty much anyone who knew her.  She was lively and young at heart and fun.  She laughed a lot.  And made you laugh.  She was someone you loved spending time with.

It’s an emotional process learning how to say goodbye to someone you love.  It’s hard to move on because there is a daily sadness that washes over you.

And Guilt.  You feel guilty just for going about your daily routine.  I guess because somewhere down deep that means that you are starting to face that fact that this cherished person is really gone.  But you don’t want to acknowledge it because that means that it really happened and that it’s not just a dream.  A bad dream that you are waiting to wake up from.  You want to hang on to every last piece of this person for as long as you can.

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There is a recurring dream that I have often.  I’ve experienced the same one repeatedly – over and over for years.  It comes to me at night when my mind is supposed to be shut down and relaxed.

I dream that I’m back at school again.  I’ve returned there in my dreams for years.  It’s never as I remember.  It’s always in a different town and with a different group of people from my life, past and present.  But, the theme is constant.  I can not remember the last time I went to class.  I can’t find my classroom or my locker.  When I finally do find my locker, I can’t remember the combination.

Somewhere towards the end – and always right before I wake up – I realize that everybody is graduating and moving on except me.

I haven’t had this recurring dream recently.   No.  It has been replaced by a different dream.  One that does not come to me at night, but one that is on my mind throughout the day.  Everyday.

I’m driving in a taxi with my mom.  I don’t know where we are but it’s in some big city.  We are riding along and suddenly the taxi pulls up to the curb and stops.  My mom turns to me, smiles and gives me a hug, opens the door and then steps out.  The taxi pulls away from the curb again.  But, I’m still in it.  I turn to look out the back window and can see my mom standing on the corner where she had gotten out.  She gets smaller and smaller until she is out of view. I can not see her anymore.  And then, she is gone.

I’m moving forward and going on with my life and she is not with me anymore.

Every now and then you get to the point where things start to make sense again.  Your routine as you once knew it feels somewhat back to normal.  Then the sadness washes over you again.  It can be set off by any small thing.  A song.  A picture.  An upcoming holiday.  A dream you have at night.  A thought during the day.

So, you surround yourself with your support system.  You spouse.  Your kids.  Your dear friends. Thursday’s with Jeri.

It’s a process.  One day at a time.

Life moves on.

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