tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37731534917228107332024-02-02T01:26:03.016-05:00NC A Place to Call HomeA front porch thinker blogs about lifeNana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-53250191974719519112012-11-16T18:33:00.001-05:002012-11-16T18:33:28.195-05:00Scripture Lady
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<span style="font-size: small;">My morning commute here in North Carolina is NOTHING like my long drive used
to be in New Jersey. There I could carry on long conversations, listen to entire audio
books in a few days. Here I know that I can leave home at 7:27 and still be at
work in time to punch the time clock by 7:45! There is really very little
traffic, an occasional school bus or fender bender, but by and large there is
nothing to impede progress. The ride is so short in fact that there is
rarely time to listen too much of an audio book or even to complete a phone
call. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">But recently something new has been added to the "what to my wondering
eyes did appear" part of my trip to school. Every morning I
pass a lovely, African-American, elderly woman who stands at the end of her
driveway on a very busy road holding up handmade simple scripture cards. At
first I didn't really notice what she was doing, then I started to pay closer
attention... she is faithful - rain or shine, heat or cold. I now slow down and
wave to her and she waves back. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">There seems to be a repeat order to the cards and she always has the
references from the New Testament using the St. in front of the apostle's
names. St. John, St. James, St. Matthew, St. Mark, St. Luke and so on. One
morning I picked up my phone and asked Siri to look up the reference ... she
came back and read the verse - one of the so send I you verses... then she said
- "Now I don't know what I am supposed to do with that... " Got
to love Siri, and most certainly have to love the faithful saint standing by
the side of the road sharing the good news... even if I can't always catch the
verse as I drive by at 45 miles per hour! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Love my North Carolina life! </span><br />
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Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-45193651833087244552012-11-03T19:12:00.001-04:002012-11-03T19:13:56.247-04:00Day of Randomness = DelighfulnessI am guilty of telling my students that what helps with writing is to just start to write-to put something on paper... and so today I begin by listing my day! I am not sure what this will become other than to detail the randomness of some of my days...<br />
<br />
made Blueberry muffins<br />
<br />
cleared kitchen table (only to dump it into my office) <br />
<br />
washed kitchen window inside<br />
<br />
cleaned a drain (ewwww)<br />
<br />
washed the windows on all of the doors<br />
<br />
took down the front porch plants and cut them all back to hang in the garage<br />
<br />
vacuumed the side porch and brought in those porch plants to transition to indoor life!<br />
<br />
transplanted the aloe plants into 2 other containers<br />
<br />
rearranged living room corner<br />
<br />
brought in and cleaned up the 4th of July decor from the porches<br />
<br />
vacuumed the living room<br />
<br />
changed the 2 filters for the heat/air pumps<br />
<br />
took the back porch furniture to the attic and also cushions, soccer chairs, etc.<br />
<br />
cleaned the light fixture in the kitchen<br />
<br />
played with facebook, twitter and the internettyness<br />
<br />
talked with several of my children<br />
<br />
enjoyed a fire in the fireplace<br />
<br />
watched a sad movie <br />
<br />
had pizza for supper and leftover chili for lunch<br />
<br />
tomorrow will be another day!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-29302316373692372912011-07-07T22:53:00.000-04:002011-07-07T22:53:15.223-04:00Don't Be Alarmed... Step Away from the Bag!A few weeks ago I was most blessed to travel to the Boston area with our youngest daughter, Jaime. This trip was Jaime's gift to me for my birthday! We spent the first day in Lexington / Concord, and on the second day we took the train into downtown Boston to walk the Freedom Trail. We were not aware when we ventured out that morning that we would be sharing Boston with over 2 million Bruin fans, who had all come to town to watch the Stanley Cup parade and celebrate with their team! This made visiting the historic sites easy as most of the people were in town for the Bruins!<br />
<br />
We had enjoyed a great day together and we were coming to the end of the trail with only two more major stops to make. It was hot and we had been walking since about 10: 30 and it was now about 4:00 in the afternoon. <br />
We arrived at the USS Constitution and couldn't decide if we wanted to actually go on the boat and go through security or just look at it from the pier. After a few minutes we walked to the end of the pier and took pictures of the beautiful Boston skyline. About this time we start to hear a loud, high pitched alarm. We thought it odd that no one seemed upset by the sound but kept doing whatever they were already involved with. <br />
<br />
We decided to go on the boat and so we were willing to go through the tight security. We showed our picture ids, put our purses and camera bags on the x-ray belt and walked through the metal detector. All seemed fine and we were cleared. The last member of security who checked my id said he wondered what the alarm was about but sent us through.<br />
<br />
When we arrived in the visitor center, we first went to the restrooms and then planned to tour the visitor center to learn more about the USS Constitution. However, all too soon a young man approached me. He was obviously an employee of the visitor center. " Excuse me, Mam, I think your bag is making a noise." I told him that it wasn't me and that my daughter and I had heard the sound outside, through security, in the restroom - and well just everywhere! He said, " Mam, It has been a long day and I don't have the authority to go through your bag - but your bag is making the sound." I became slightly indignant and told Jaime to take him outside and show him that the noise was OUTSIDE too and in fact EVERYWHERE! I sat down near the door and Jaime and the young man went outside!<br />
<br />
A minute or two later they returned. Jaime, no doubt mortified by now, looked at me and said, "Mom - it has to be you- the noise is NOT outside NOW!" So then the young man looks at me and says, " Mam, is it your LIFE ALERT?" I said, "Son, I may be old, but I am NOT THAT OLD!" I start digging through my camera bag and there at the very bottom was - the personal alarm and whistle that I carry when I travel alone.I had forgotten that I even had it with me. I have never used it - and the alarm cord has never come out before!! <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-wu6mqctHH2r7sIH7n2ZfU1HJ_jJPUNjNH_PM443tbtdrw6hnFWyzEUC8BT_fzQlfYo22a2cPq639KKrtgh0P4LwxyzuHdsvpLReTMCHCHYmwXD4SagwqdGP3jDCV0b1QHQ_U-0N4uM5n/s1600/Alarm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-wu6mqctHH2r7sIH7n2ZfU1HJ_jJPUNjNH_PM443tbtdrw6hnFWyzEUC8BT_fzQlfYo22a2cPq639KKrtgh0P4LwxyzuHdsvpLReTMCHCHYmwXD4SagwqdGP3jDCV0b1QHQ_U-0N4uM5n/s320/Alarm.jpg" width="320" /></a>I started laughing so hard ... by now we had quite a crowd of people around us who thought that either I was some crazy terrorist out to destroy the USS Constitution - or just a pathetic old person! One of the joys of getting older is that we do not find things like this to be very alarming! :) I don't think I even apologized to the poor kid! I did apologize to Jaime! " Don't be alarmed Jaime, your mother is just getting old!" :)Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com3Boston, MA, USA42.3584308 -71.059773242.2719608 -71.28060219999999 42.4449008 -70.8389442tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-84986950241237646072011-06-11T21:42:00.000-04:002011-06-11T21:42:49.330-04:00Along the Way...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="fbPhotoCaptionText">Recently, I learned a valuable lesson about doing things when you first think to do them. For four years I drove past an old one-room school house -thinking each time I really need to take a picture of that building. Imagine my heartbeak when I drove by a few weeks ago and saw that a giant oak tree had fallen and destroyed the old school! So yesterday while driving home from the beach, I took the time to stop and take pictures of the things that caught my eye! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"> </span><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawXvqV8pM4hZb374AO36pZhglz3tDSHXwbxU9SB7hufpEBrNq9TprbPlL7XyVZ5zswZAO7jLFxKeEDx6kYV0xPVpsdkDLe7qxGpDoED9MweCox3kIu6sc7j57-Wz2wIjXgNOfYuloWOSA/s320/DSC_0004.JPG" width="320" /></div> The Old South still lives in Eastern North Carolina! Yesterday on the way home from the beach I stopped and took a few pictures of things that caught my attention! This plantation house was the first stop ... along the way... somewhere near Maysville, NC <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJ-9cdDkWbCKHy8S1P46RKsn6l-akmld-hRE1kRgeWJkFv905ri8cbKgwQvAQSP88yKUtHZd6IEMpZU-7ZY8KJbsJRrkG9axF4dPN_nb63wxhz6HQJJjTglYeUlf0Cvf8bctSG_hGqxQj/s1600/DSC_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisJ-9cdDkWbCKHy8S1P46RKsn6l-akmld-hRE1kRgeWJkFv905ri8cbKgwQvAQSP88yKUtHZd6IEMpZU-7ZY8KJbsJRrkG9axF4dPN_nb63wxhz6HQJJjTglYeUlf0Cvf8bctSG_hGqxQj/s320/DSC_0005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Harvest is near! This barn is located just outside of Trenton, NC<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoVqdrHmaAntlwxXwpp9d1twov5m_TIUnr31545Q5JHbRGWo61UGo7pLdCzWzwgs0lrpubjeL7tHDtKWQe4hL4UWlkxEVTQ9knF1lu4kRGx-k9UgNd4V8p2fktIvPyz9Uj6tuosDS3DmTh/s1600/DSC_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoVqdrHmaAntlwxXwpp9d1twov5m_TIUnr31545Q5JHbRGWo61UGo7pLdCzWzwgs0lrpubjeL7tHDtKWQe4hL4UWlkxEVTQ9knF1lu4kRGx-k9UgNd4V8p2fktIvPyz9Uj6tuosDS3DmTh/s320/DSC_0010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Oh the stories this old house could tell. Located in Trenton, NC - the old house no doubt holds the stories of many lives. I could spend hours thinking about the people who lived there.Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com1United States34.813803519799421 -77.4316410000000138.43255351979942 -138.69125350000002 61.195053519799423 -16.17202850000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-40997307376399028402010-08-14T23:41:00.000-04:002010-08-14T23:41:32.735-04:00NC A Place to Call Home: There she was with a pink and white flowing twirly little dress in the parking lot of Sam's...<a href="http://ncaplacetocallhome.blogspot.com/2010/08/there-she-was-with-pink-and-white.html#links">NC A Place to Call Home: There she was with a pink and white flowing twirly little dress in the parking lot of Sam's...</a>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-83689324546555169142010-08-14T21:11:00.000-04:002010-08-14T21:11:08.757-04:00Resurrection in May by Lisa SamsonOnce again a Lisa Samson novel has completely captivated me. I invite you to read the latest of Samson's fine works.<br />
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</style>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-62170046521352554182010-08-14T16:50:00.001-04:002010-08-14T17:05:13.796-04:00There she was with a pink and white flowing twirly little dress in the parking lot of Sam's...<span><span style="background-color: #ea9999;"></span></span>holding tightly to her mother's hand, barefoot on hot pavement. The child could not have been more than six or seven. A closer look revealed a slightly rumpled dress and hair only slightly less red than her mother's. The young mom, in her early twenties, held the girl by one hand and a small clear plastic box with the other. In the box were small resealable bags with peanuts still in the shells. "<i>Mammm</i>" she called out to me. "Yes?" "<i>Mammm</i>, we are trying to get some money for some groceries, would you be willin to buy some peanuts?' I gave her a few dollars and told her I did not need the peanuts and wished them well . She thanked me and headed the other way with the little girl in tow. I was clearly rattled as I headed to the entrance to meet my own daughter inside. As I returned to my car about 15 minutes later I looked for the pair. I wanted to take them shopping or bring them home or both. But I could not find them in the lot. I do not know if the mom truly just needed the money for groceries or if she was going to use the money for something else. How she was going to use the money was not important, what was important was the fact that she was there in the parking lot with her daughter in hand asking strangers for money. I wanted to do more, to help more but a plan did not come together at once and then when I had at least the beginnings of a plan, they were gone. I don't know if they will eat tonight or where they will sleep. I pray that she sold enough peanuts to at least provide food for them for today. I pray that someone else responded more quickly than me and that the pair will get a new start. God please protect the little red-headed pair.Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-86691324889348526962010-05-03T20:35:00.002-04:002010-05-03T20:41:02.482-04:00Peace for the Journey by Elaine Olsen<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I invite you to watch the trailer for this beautiful new book released only today by writer Elaine Olsen! Elaine is the mom of a former student and her dear son contacted me today to tell me about the book! I cannot wait to read Peace for the Journey! </span><object height="295" style="background-image: url("http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/qdJDjiHzCQI/hqdefault.jpg");" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qdJDjiHzCQI&hl=en_GB&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qdJDjiHzCQI&hl=en_GB&fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="295" width="480"></embed></object></div>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-54114485543772760812010-03-27T21:45:00.000-04:002010-03-27T21:45:37.476-04:00The Summer of '78<div style="text-align: justify;">The center of our great nation is not the place one always wants to visit in the summer and yet that summer a trip to visit family in Texas and Colorado seemed like the right thing to do. Traveling for weeks and long distances with two small children can be taxing to any parent but on this trip I was not feeling well and the visits remain a blur in my memory! While visiting in the Dallas area my illness was compounded with a terrible uti and I remembered that we had a friend from Bible college days who was now a doctor in the area. What I did not know was that the physican friend was a pathologist and so perhaps began what would later seem as foreshadowing in the story. It seems that even pathologists can write scrips and so I was able to obtain an antibiotic so that the trip might continue. I know we visited a brother in law in Texas and a sister in law and her family in Colorado, but where else and who else we saw will forever remain locked away in the back of my brain somewhere. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Upon returning home to the city of Chicago-life quickly fell back into a sense of normal for a few days. I still had the remants of an upper respiratory infection that I could not shake and traces of the earlier uti that the medicine had helped ,for awhile , had reappeared. I vaguely remember being at a church league baseball game and sitting outside at sundown, thinking that I was much sicker than symptoms seemed to indicate. The role of pastor's wife or in this case assistant pastor's wife was one that demanded mostly my presence at everything and my illness was no excuse to stay away from church services or functions. So I kept dragging myself and my two little girls to all the events of the week.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Returning to my two-night-a-week job as a nurse's assistant for a wealthy North Shore family was in some ways relaxing from a stress filled home and hours of relief from the demands of mothering a three year old daughter and a eighteen month old daughter. It was decent pay for the time and it was 12 hours worked twice a week that seemed the easiest to be away. I worked from 7 pm until 7 am usually on Tuesday and Thursday nights... the nights most often void of church services or activities. This was also the time that the girls were usually asleep and so not to much work for their father. On my first night back at work, the other nurse I worked with noticed that I looked sick and sent me to bed once our patient was asleep for the night. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">When I awoke the next morning the first thing I sensed was that the outside of my hands and feet were numb. I tried to shake the numbness away thinking that my hands and feet were asleep as though I had slept in a strange position causing them to fall asleep. When the numbness did not go away I thought that maybe I had pinched a nerve. By Thursday of that week the numbness had spread to my face and I was getting concerned. It was as though the face had been given novacaine like the dentist might give for a filling. Afraid to return to my patient because I thought that I might be carrying a contagious disease I visited a family doctor who assured me that I was a tired pastor's wife and mother and that there was nothing to worry about! I returned to work and woke up on Friday morning feeling more numb and as though my limbs weighed hundreds of pounds. I was becoming more fearful by the hour... to be edited and continued</div>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-72797830339337110142010-03-23T20:00:00.004-04:002010-03-23T20:21:21.555-04:00Blogginess and Purpose...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4oOhAbMM_Eh113Pxg7MFOo6jvP_QsubvPU7OWfa1s1azNJXUsKXEkNE65m9vJtkkYTZf-QDfPklYRRpTo9YP6E72Xncqj3Joy3b8hmZ4iJ5VFAy0BzZazn1EVObt_G0bsJoOjzppkg07M/s1600-h/nana_girls1.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4oOhAbMM_Eh113Pxg7MFOo6jvP_QsubvPU7OWfa1s1azNJXUsKXEkNE65m9vJtkkYTZf-QDfPklYRRpTo9YP6E72Xncqj3Joy3b8hmZ4iJ5VFAy0BzZazn1EVObt_G0bsJoOjzppkg07M/s400/nana_girls1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451988526684045490" border="0" /></a><br />My blog has been blogged down since last August,not that I do not desire to blog, and not that I do not have things about which to blog, but mostly because the blog seems to have lacked purpose! My original purpose in starting the blog was to write about my family and odd upbringing... this was met with some resistance.. A few who wrote comments thought that this was to much information. However, if my family is ever to know the story it would be wise to journal it somewhere. I could limit my postings to just a few family members, but a wider audience may well benefit from the testimony shared in the telling of these stories. So it is back to square one on my blog journey. <br />Recently, I shared with some of my students, as I do almost every year, some of the story of my miraculous recovery from Guillian-Barre Syndrome. They said I should write a book... perhaps I will and perhaps it will begin here!Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-67315862800073217532009-08-23T11:27:00.010-04:002009-08-23T13:12:01.248-04:00Out of Africa...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoIV71z0dz-OiDRb8zd7HRnbjK9EEvgTX8WZBVNr069EFWdpC1iOZSVKenX-Zkw8mx8GPx54nOHJAp0U_R-z_wKXLDgvz4cOHf7ROwAEFJLrtNBRz_vRu9miLL96mWCKYVjXDB9m6t-u4W/s1600-h/Sipi+Falls+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoIV71z0dz-OiDRb8zd7HRnbjK9EEvgTX8WZBVNr069EFWdpC1iOZSVKenX-Zkw8mx8GPx54nOHJAp0U_R-z_wKXLDgvz4cOHf7ROwAEFJLrtNBRz_vRu9miLL96mWCKYVjXDB9m6t-u4W/s400/Sipi+Falls+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373191946451151330" border="0" /></a><br />It is a lovely, rainy, misty, Sunday morning here and I am listening to the soundtrack from <span style="font-style: italic;">Out of Africa</span>. It has to be one of my all time favorite movies. Not so much for parts of the story line, but for the expansive sceanery and the amazing musical score. Africa has always drawn me, as it did my mother. Thelma always longed to go to Africa to see the zebras. That's all, she just wanted to go and see the zebra's. It is a wish that was not fulfilled in her lifetime, but as is so often the case, it has been somewhat fulfilled in the lives of two of her grandchildren. I do not know if either my son Daniel or his twin sister, Jaime have viewed zebras while in Africa, but they have been there! This morning my son Daniel is in the heart of Africa, visiting Uganda for the second time doing humanitarian outreach work and my daughter Jaime lived in Egypt for almost a year working with a linguistics agency.<br />So what draws me to this dark continent, as it was once called in school books of long ago? I am not sure, only that I have always wanted to visit, to see the people, the lovely faces of the children,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0p4Xl6w4pYzzLJ4P5BZY9JgBJcRwVGjqhvIe6O97l5ewtvhLu560LT82GwcV8AwUT99pvqXFBEWty-RSCvam4nVnZvCQ-4rzD7FsZ1CkcQlcG_sUE4L8sfrPa9skg3gK5DmAa9ODUQOm/s1600-h/Dan's+pics+from+Africa+Fort+Patiko+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0p4Xl6w4pYzzLJ4P5BZY9JgBJcRwVGjqhvIe6O97l5ewtvhLu560LT82GwcV8AwUT99pvqXFBEWty-RSCvam4nVnZvCQ-4rzD7FsZ1CkcQlcG_sUE4L8sfrPa9skg3gK5DmAa9ODUQOm/s320/Dan's+pics+from+Africa+Fort+Patiko+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373193580814586962" border="0" /></a> the land and its animals too, I suppose. But the stories I have read, often stories of survival and of the lives of people who went there early on, have always captivated me! Early missionaries and colonists worked tirelessly, persuing a passion for the seemingly impossible. In the book <span style="font-style: italic;">Out of Africa</span> by Isak Dinsen, she speaks of having been mostly a 'mental traveler'. A mental traveler sums it up well for me, for up until now that is mostly what I have been when it comes to travel to foriegn lands. A mental traveler can go where ever she wishes and the pictures in the mind are free to be as beautiful as can be imagined. But there is another side to Africa that frightens me, it is the side of hunger, starvation, unimaginable poverty, sickness, revolution and war. Perhaps that is the Darkness that is referred to when many speak of this large continent. I am so glad that two of my children have gone and been willing to see and experience both sides of Africa. They have been willing to embrace its beauty and its poverty, its people and their heartbreak. A new generation is going to tackle what those of us who have only travel in our minds have yet to see. Photos of Uganda by Dan Ford so far without permission! :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMwzCTEOE5Iwm8xyxn6I9AEy8MYF5CWJdIdr41GEhAKOEXrXyZBJbVhyphenhyphenLsmmD7e4Gq5fWNb_X6g6J2_prB0GTURGm6ks1m6q8IffB0UirZZosxcGNQ77NTBvOeDCq6xQjOGbLwPze6uMo/s1600-h/Long+and+Winding+Road+in+Africa+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMwzCTEOE5Iwm8xyxn6I9AEy8MYF5CWJdIdr41GEhAKOEXrXyZBJbVhyphenhyphenLsmmD7e4Gq5fWNb_X6g6J2_prB0GTURGm6ks1m6q8IffB0UirZZosxcGNQ77NTBvOeDCq6xQjOGbLwPze6uMo/s320/Long+and+Winding+Road+in+Africa+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373194011932583170" border="0" /></a>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-83304459431137438932009-07-13T19:06:00.016-04:002009-08-15T20:05:41.913-04:00"A Life Lived Small but in a Big Way"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYHzYVtGheJXC_YU1HJqr-V4cUdedHXDZOsUrpdWgFZjA-D0Awmp8qTY-fbSslcubcyaxg8RaMtoScKhane8-IqudxqegBoGRbbS-I-Sp2tepR8Nxp_DjLAI5yJyXCI7oDzafwsGD_3IG-/s1600-h/Kathy+Sutherland+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYHzYVtGheJXC_YU1HJqr-V4cUdedHXDZOsUrpdWgFZjA-D0Awmp8qTY-fbSslcubcyaxg8RaMtoScKhane8-IqudxqegBoGRbbS-I-Sp2tepR8Nxp_DjLAI5yJyXCI7oDzafwsGD_3IG-/s400/Kathy+Sutherland+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370325213751951026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ></span>I want to take a moment and make a few comments about my friend Kathy Sutherland who passed away on the 4th of July this year!<br />Kathy's obituary cannot begin to let anyone know what she meant to the many lives she touched!<br />Read my thoughts following the obituary.<br />Name: Kathleen L. Sutherland<br /> Date: November 22nd, 1946 - July 4th, 2009<br /> Obituary: Kathleen L. Sutherland, 62, of Browns Mills, NJ, went on to her eternal reward on July 4, 2009, at Samaritan Hospice in Mt. Holly, NJ, after a valiant battle against cancer. She devoted her life to service at Lighthouse Christian School and then at Deborah Heart and Lung Center in the Food & Nutrition/Environmental Services Departments. Wife of the late James Sutherland, she is survived by her children, Kari Mauerman, Marissa Sheley, and Matthew Sutherland; her grandchildren Claire, Lucy, and Jack Mauerman; her sister, Marie Lehar; brothers, Edward “Skip” Kowal, Francis “Bud” Kowal, and Chris Kowal; and her mother, Elizabeth Kowal. She is also survived by several nieces and two sons-in-law. Friends and family are invited to celebrate her life on Thursday, July 9, at Lighthouse Tabernacle in Lumberton, NJ. A viewing will be held from 5-7pm with a service beginning at 7:15pm. Rev. André Mauerman will officiate. Interment will be held 10 am on Friday at the Mount Holly Cemetery. Family will greet friends following the burial at Lighthouse Tabernacle. Donations in memory of her life may be made to the Deborah Hospital Foundation, 20 Pine Mill Road, Browns Mills, NJ 08015. Arrangements under the direction of the Perinchief Chapels, Mt. Holly. (www.perinchief.com)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fTxLlB06SLwBNxPKM06XySTBQ27mjNXjIhQSH1ojEbBpjdVPG-8aG21XhcqvcV8OoYDpJ9wFyXVLvzi7o9Dz3O5axenhdd6XrOkW7-Cli_lDPR1hBfwgd6G47wwYCbl3YxgQkNiQXmho/s1600-h/Kathy+Sutherland+family+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 335px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fTxLlB06SLwBNxPKM06XySTBQ27mjNXjIhQSH1ojEbBpjdVPG-8aG21XhcqvcV8OoYDpJ9wFyXVLvzi7o9Dz3O5axenhdd6XrOkW7-Cli_lDPR1hBfwgd6G47wwYCbl3YxgQkNiQXmho/s400/Kathy+Sutherland+family+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370325440082760098" border="0" /></a><br />When I first moved to New Jersey in 1986, I was a suddenly single mother of five children. I had been married for forever it seemed, but now I found myself in the new world of single parenthood. When I first started attending Lighthouse Tabernacle Church, Kathy was one of the first people who made me feel welcome. We both belonged to a great group of single women and Kath was often the voice of reason, like when some of us thought that doing something crazy would be fun! Nothing like watching a bunch of 30 and 40 year old women riding loudly in the back of someones pickup truck through the streets of Moorestown, NJ.. hmmm!<br />We worked together everyday for the three years that I taught at Lighthouse Christian School. Kathy had a gentle, quiet, strong presence that always amazed me! She had been widowed when her children were quite young and Kathy became my true mentor and friend. She was an amazing school secretary and touched so many young lives.<br />Kathy never appeared rattled, I never heard her complain about anything or anyone. She lived simply and gave her children a wonderful foundation of faith and a left them a legacy of love.<br />In recent years, we often joked about the fact that we rarely saw each other except in ICU waiting rooms and at the funerals of mutual friends. I could always make her laugh when I would remind her that the first letters of funeral spell FUN! (sorry-it is just how my brain works sometimes!)<br />By the time Kathy became ill, my family and I had relocated to North Carolina and so when I learned of Kathy's home going, I was unable to attend her funeral. But I do know this, we will get to see each other again one day in Heaven. There will be no sorrow, or tears or pain- only rejoicing before our Lord!<br />Thank you Kathy, for the example you set for me.<br />I will miss you and I will see you in a bit. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboC1QaKrPFHJAeK877MbyQQto1zpHHxhtiEZgxpTdAxntvy3xcDrAn09lGLLel2422FiAl2v2UWqcuK7Hpoti9ENnOhZmBEyAxygHCh7L_n1X_55YOqNKz6Nk7e9J28R8Hhdc868ESHHv/s1600-h/Sutherland+Family+wedding+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 365px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjboC1QaKrPFHJAeK877MbyQQto1zpHHxhtiEZgxpTdAxntvy3xcDrAn09lGLLel2422FiAl2v2UWqcuK7Hpoti9ENnOhZmBEyAxygHCh7L_n1X_55YOqNKz6Nk7e9J28R8Hhdc868ESHHv/s400/Sutherland+Family+wedding+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370345541314116274" border="0" /></a>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-80715290877671515462009-07-13T18:44:00.004-04:002009-07-13T18:50:37.076-04:00A Long Day's Journey ...It has been exceedingly long since I blogged! No excuses really except perhaps a lack of bloggy focus :) But it has been a glorious summer and my mind,spirit, and heart are rested and well! Seems like a good time to replace fogginess with blogginess. I have decided to set apart the history posts on their own site and I will give you that information soon. I will be uploading some new fun pictures depicting the wonder of summer! So just what have you been up to?<br />Blessings,<br /><br />SusanNana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-44646754460984540052009-02-16T16:45:00.005-05:002009-02-16T17:38:53.160-05:00Not Me Monday!While enjoying the blogginess of others it is NOT possible that I have have not blogged since the beginning of January! No not me! I have been following a fun blog whose author always treats us to a "Not-me-Monday" post. She also asks us to join her in hosting our own "Not-me-Monday" post. So here I go ready or not!<br /><br />Since I last joined you my friendly blog readers, the following has NOT happened to our family!<br /><br />Our son-in-law was certainly NOT hit by a truck while training for a marathon! And of course since he was NOT hit by the truck -he did NOT have his elbow broken, followed by surgery with NOT 1 screw but 2 and 15 staples! NO not in our lifetime!<br /><br />My precious husband who was out chopping wood for my fire-did NOT connect the axe and a large log to his large toe! NO NOT HIM! And the picture is a figment of your imagination!<br /><br /><br />Our 3rd daughter, who is expecting any minute certainly did NOT go into early labor only to be sent home from the hospital a few hours later! NO SHE DID NOT! And because she did not have the baby early, I MOST certainly will NOT be winging my way later this week to the windy city to witness the birth our 4th grandbaby! :)<br /><br />On Valentine's Day my dear husband did NOT bring me a full giant heart full of yummy chocolates... and because he did not bring them I have not eaten my way into a chocolate stupor, NO NOT ME!<br /><br />On this delightful 4 day holiday weekend I HAVE MOST CERTAINLY NOT AVOIDED GRADING PAPERS and doing LESSON PLANS! No not me!<br /><br />I have not stayed up to late, I have not exhausted myself from hours on facebook,bloglines, and twitter! NOPE NOT me!<br /><br />Having completed this assignment! I am now free to continue my NOT ME MONDAY PRESIDENTS DAY! <br /><br />Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by <a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net">MckMama</a>. You can head over to <a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net">her blog</a> to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-84920108129009980682009-01-04T09:40:00.016-05:002009-01-04T12:09:59.982-05:00The Horse Drawn Trolley Comes to Goldsboro<span style="font-size:180%;">F</span>or the second year we were able to take our two oldest granddaughters, Anna Marion and Emma Grace, to ride the free horse-drawn trolley, and to see the lights in downtown Goldsboro. These are some bullet thoughts and a few shots from the night!<br />* COLD<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tS_JruuLUBr_YcIYjTPdii9cTtJXvu57f13gnD1IkdaKjDajCaiD9H_SF7x8M9TC-tHaN-AB1b1lE_bhdTpp_auLPJDVmlbPOfU5r7-F8hcZx95S6fG3469vqqIPddIrCJNTZPD6L2Pn/s1600-h/IMG_1337.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tS_JruuLUBr_YcIYjTPdii9cTtJXvu57f13gnD1IkdaKjDajCaiD9H_SF7x8M9TC-tHaN-AB1b1lE_bhdTpp_auLPJDVmlbPOfU5r7-F8hcZx95S6fG3469vqqIPddIrCJNTZPD6L2Pn/s400/IMG_1337.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287460534306723122" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLFvoasHIihUJd9mwWU08XolVMOzOKu5ZJfbegHAVv3axx50X9_-otd7Uq6Yw2pVxk6_lsKLnb1qZld51DJbIe20D4FqJHvHbVkUt2mQjF6l3HRwWnyz9Cu9MO3iir-i0Bqdws95zCefU/s1600-h/IMG_1346.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLFvoasHIihUJd9mwWU08XolVMOzOKu5ZJfbegHAVv3axx50X9_-otd7Uq6Yw2pVxk6_lsKLnb1qZld51DJbIe20D4FqJHvHbVkUt2mQjF6l3HRwWnyz9Cu9MO3iir-i0Bqdws95zCefU/s400/IMG_1346.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287461065551023922" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWUSegQGM_JLHC8Yx3rxDQnJ17WmFn6j_3BRpzyLMWweWRt6Qwp0tOQEyYrKRdFqgTHh3uoUIZOyhRO0u2vhCiOJ39yh3sjYX96zwIVODxFrV-xym2_moYtbHNMHSpuWASRArfZKUV-Hz/s1600-h/IMG_1334.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWUSegQGM_JLHC8Yx3rxDQnJ17WmFn6j_3BRpzyLMWweWRt6Qwp0tOQEyYrKRdFqgTHh3uoUIZOyhRO0u2vhCiOJ39yh3sjYX96zwIVODxFrV-xym2_moYtbHNMHSpuWASRArfZKUV-Hz/s400/IMG_1334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287463345512188002" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYFO29dYdJqeFM2ilR-baeNqSva_N1ks7I6biQTFV5S_qmj29ljoyEohlPaoOr6y_Vn7VQjTTprgumV1oFKkdtQz9ZSSJgd8UIkRmSBJh6C6_qxkoFHC-bgX10oqXim3gwCCiypzsN9h5B/s1600-h/IMG_1332.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYFO29dYdJqeFM2ilR-baeNqSva_N1ks7I6biQTFV5S_qmj29ljoyEohlPaoOr6y_Vn7VQjTTprgumV1oFKkdtQz9ZSSJgd8UIkRmSBJh6C6_qxkoFHC-bgX10oqXim3gwCCiypzsN9h5B/s400/IMG_1332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287462110970614018" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ygMI0l3pG4yYpn9NUvAxFNqRcQYbtG_XVuG7VBjiqQhD4dlk52HWAdU52prDXvOcCe-KtdhyQxIKJLUMaMZDbUrc-2JSttUrcw_YZyok0sxzL2jbe5nKWOwfyLfVCBghkHpqS4x1MQny/s1600-h/IMG_1342.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ygMI0l3pG4yYpn9NUvAxFNqRcQYbtG_XVuG7VBjiqQhD4dlk52HWAdU52prDXvOcCe-KtdhyQxIKJLUMaMZDbUrc-2JSttUrcw_YZyok0sxzL2jbe5nKWOwfyLfVCBghkHpqS4x1MQny/s400/IMG_1342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287464306372842162" border="0" /></a><br />* A LONG WAIT IN A LONG LINE<br />* ONE CUP OF HOT CHOCOLATE SHARED BY ALL<br />* A LONG WAIT<br />* DID WE MENTION COLD? ( well, cold by Goldsboro standards)<br />* CHRISTMAS LIGHTS<br />* HORSES<br />* A WAGON<br />* FINALLY OUR TURN!<br />* A HAT FLYING OFF INTO THE STREET<br />* A GOOD SAMARITIAN RETURNING THE HAT VIA DRIVE BY TOSS<br /><br />* A SWEET GRANDPA TELLING US THE STORY OF THE HORSES<br /><br />* A MEMORY MADE<br /><br />* HOME BY BEDTIME<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7V3SKNJjhXfktBvysmdtUZup4aH4eXmAMWvlA7CRAtfmj00JfjblCLUHhHud6UO0bBtVSHZmTYZrAktKce8lFNtgU6JIx2SFDwr97M5taE14p8414rGRYUewugCpifGme7YvA0nPWj0bO/s1600-h/IMG_1345.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7V3SKNJjhXfktBvysmdtUZup4aH4eXmAMWvlA7CRAtfmj00JfjblCLUHhHud6UO0bBtVSHZmTYZrAktKce8lFNtgU6JIx2SFDwr97M5taE14p8414rGRYUewugCpifGme7YvA0nPWj0bO/s400/IMG_1345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287464947862292914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlQ-H-fUpH2lqPnbBrmtxP6LnAPUd-Wubpt5x0-o5Awft96Jbt4FQxO6BU4tZBCGHKPnOmqMRaIAxrm4S0S394ri6dnU5Q2BPkwHSDCiyB9ds5eZLIFqxKEeZm-HGCQsRWk7Oe0yaWCoj0/s1600-h/IMG_1329.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlQ-H-fUpH2lqPnbBrmtxP6LnAPUd-Wubpt5x0-o5Awft96Jbt4FQxO6BU4tZBCGHKPnOmqMRaIAxrm4S0S394ri6dnU5Q2BPkwHSDCiyB9ds5eZLIFqxKEeZm-HGCQsRWk7Oe0yaWCoj0/s400/IMG_1329.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287466458933668770" border="0" /></a>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-9109167588508670862009-01-03T19:02:00.005-05:002009-01-03T20:18:58.770-05:00Hands"<span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:180%;" >W</span>hatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might." Ecc. 9:10 <br /><br /><br /><br /> Hands have always fascinated me! I love the dimples in baby hands. I love watching young children use their hands to master the use of crayons and pencils. I love watching my husband's hands when he plays the piano. I remember holding my Uncle Harry's big, rough hands and coming to the realization that his hands were both rough and gentle at the same time. I remember playing with and pulling at the "chicken skin" on my grandmother's hands and thinking that surely I would NEVER get wrinkly skin like that! I would sit for hours and watch the blacksmith's hands as he would shoe our horses.<br /><br /> One of my favorite Peanuts cartoons from years ago was a strip about Hands. At the risk of causing Charles Schultz to spin in his grave I will attempt to do the strip justice. Charlie is walking along rather proud of himself and he holds his hands up, looks at them and declares that "these hands will do great things, these hands can save the world... etc." Well, you get the point. He continues with his dialogue about his hands when Lucy comes along, takes one look at his hands and says; "They have jelly on them!" Suddenly dejected, Charlie Brown walks away hands in pockets with his head down.<br /><br /> In the span of my life time my hands have washed thousands of dishes, washed cloth baby diapers using an old fashioned scrub board in a bathtub. These hands have used an old fashioned wringer washer, and have tried to send the hands through the wringer! These hands have kneaded bread, pulled weeds, "mucked" horse stalls, groomed horses, painted walls, cared for patients in hospitals, scrubbed floors by hand on hands and knees, these hands welded Zenith television chassis, played games, cared for children, have taught kindergardeners to write, cleaned factories and empty apartments and the list could go on and on.<br /><br /> Most of the time I can say that whatever my hands have found to do, I have done with all of my might. If hands could talk what a story they would tell. I would still love to learn American Sign Language which is an a<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_MITo6X0TzhCE_Qt-6I8e_xtUsdJm8cyVi38fEpvYtxLQUxMYjQp3ghOvPHx0iyldEUMjBFmrdbkxycQPMQyRj2iR20CZhzaK1soUVItOwfaqGngtz2DL3_qysvdEm2SQYmvhH00XsXv/s1600-h/IMG_1473.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_MITo6X0TzhCE_Qt-6I8e_xtUsdJm8cyVi38fEpvYtxLQUxMYjQp3ghOvPHx0iyldEUMjBFmrdbkxycQPMQyRj2iR20CZhzaK1soUVItOwfaqGngtz2DL3_qysvdEm2SQYmvhH00XsXv/s400/IMG_1473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287239907252174098" border="0" /></a>mazing use of the hands. I am sure there is still plenty let for my hands to do... but today I realized that I have "chicken skin" on my hands, my hands are now as old as my grandmother's were when I would pull on the loose skin on her hands.<br /><br />But that is okay, these hands can still do great things, even if they have "chicken skin", even if they have jelly on them!Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-64270551841795332202009-01-01T16:13:00.002-05:002009-01-01T16:32:52.735-05:00Welcome to the New Year!Essayist John Burroughs once said "One resolution I have made and try always to keep is this: To Rise Above the Small Things~"<br /><br />I think for the coming year this would be a wonderful resolution indeed.<br /><br />When I began this blog almost a year ago, I could never have imagined how<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4hs3B3s1_qn-7TNGx28SrxkoPZmwwsgVuwP_yvD-eEFm7DwQ5JMJlZsnl4uHtxZZT6HbWnzr3kuKN7R_RfSCsHhgW2XQj7j1FKhUTbwTVec8BPIcD-59PCWO4oncLOcANvM_1cn_lchy/s1600-h/IMG_0120.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4hs3B3s1_qn-7TNGx28SrxkoPZmwwsgVuwP_yvD-eEFm7DwQ5JMJlZsnl4uHtxZZT6HbWnzr3kuKN7R_RfSCsHhgW2XQj7j1FKhUTbwTVec8BPIcD-59PCWO4oncLOcANvM_1cn_lchy/s400/IMG_0120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286440973936098658" border="0" /></a> much would happen in that time. One of the things that slowed me down this year was that I often allowed the small things to consume my think time. And so for the coming year I, along with Burroughs, will attempt "To Rise Above the Small Things"!<br /><br />What are the small things that keep you from rising?Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-77862742645501245532008-12-31T18:59:00.002-05:002008-12-31T19:06:51.841-05:00Perhaps the Last Post of 2008...but I have the entire night to reflect and so maybe it won't be the last post of 2008.<br /><br />Earlier today I shared the following over at Antique Mommy's blog in response to her question about what would we remember about this Christmas.<br /><br /><p>I will remember this Christmas with a slightly sad yet grateful heart. What I will remember sadly is that for the first time in the lives of my 5 children they were not all physically’together’ for Christmas. But at least we were just a phone call,a text message,an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">IM</span>, or even a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">web cam</span> away from each other. One with a high risk first pregnancy in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">IL</span>, One with a collapsed lung in a NJ hospital, One trying for 4 days ,stranded in an airport, to get home. One family with three little ones with pink eye and a stomach virus, and one family with a bad case of flu. Oh and have we shared <span style="font-style: italic;">the above love</span> with others! :)</p> <p>I will remember that for those of us who were together (sick as we were), we laughed and played and made the best of being together even in times of ‘not so great’! </p> <p>I will remember that on the night that our Savior was born, Mary and Joseph had to travel outside of their comfort zone, they were away from family and friends, their lodgings were less than AAA approved, and yet there in the hay far from their home, a miracle, Christmas happened right there as that little “Stranger in the Straw” was born.</p> <p>So yes, I will remember with a grateful heart, that regardless of our circumstances, Christmas will still be Christmas even if only in our hearts.</p>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-20524902243241678702008-12-30T20:02:00.007-05:002008-12-30T20:43:31.884-05:00The First Decision of the new year, or the last decision of this year!Given where we now live, going to NYC for the big crystal ball drop is probably not going to happen. Although this New Year's Eve, I am told that NYC is bringing in the coolest portable toilets! But I digress- here in the south we do things just a little differently. I must decide whether to go the Raleigh for the giant copper ACORN drop, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZixYNMisp917hBpmZ3DRhKs0y_ublKpjENowtTifwgn5vqHTy9hxwgs_MgUifBYnTab2vEb6aXssR8piWRm92kc4q6OdgAQLD2n30wJ6N6ZIbWMRF8XnBCatAuVG2R8MgHjp3XZvfnoR0/s1600-h/Acorn+pic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 314px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZixYNMisp917hBpmZ3DRhKs0y_ublKpjENowtTifwgn5vqHTy9hxwgs_MgUifBYnTab2vEb6aXssR8piWRm92kc4q6OdgAQLD2n30wJ6N6ZIbWMRF8XnBCatAuVG2R8MgHjp3XZvfnoR0/s400/Acorn+pic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285759057588865042" border="0" /></a>(With droppings (( you know what I mean)) at 7:00 for the kiddies and 12:00 for the party goers), or should I go to Mt. Olive, home of the Mt. Olive pickle company and be there for the giant pickle drop?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQoi8Q3AiImc5BHPMFbZWwMWvL7lQ6fYXdZFtr0dfEp2PPzy88x_sr-cxIrz85H2OovI-yJw6MgVJzGnrFCANxLXMvCWV1OH5iWTwCQwUQGT-NZPOWrSvpANrdcxOooRRB-hqDbjt0qlwj/s1600-h/pickle+pic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 339px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQoi8Q3AiImc5BHPMFbZWwMWvL7lQ6fYXdZFtr0dfEp2PPzy88x_sr-cxIrz85H2OovI-yJw6MgVJzGnrFCANxLXMvCWV1OH5iWTwCQwUQGT-NZPOWrSvpANrdcxOooRRB-hqDbjt0qlwj/s400/pickle+pic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285762248404946018" border="0" /></a><br />Now if I still had small children at home I might lean towards the ACORN. But since I am older and very fond of pickles (although the story does not specify if the pickle is a Sweet Baby <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Gherkin</span>, or a baby dill. I lean towards the sweet <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">gherkins</span> variety!) and since Mt. Olive is just down the road apiece, I guess the pickle drop would be my 1st choice. I know we won't have Dick Clarke or Ryan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Seacrist</span> for that matter. But perhaps the mayor will be there or the CEO of said pickle company. This one thing I know, 2009 is going to arrive regardless of what drops from where. And with the new year we all have new opportunities to make a change and a difference! Just like the differences that Raleigh and Mt. Olive are making with their unique answer to those in NYC! VIA LA DIFFERENCE!Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-50001599135219260262008-12-06T19:53:00.002-05:002008-12-06T20:33:04.712-05:00Christmas Past...<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span><br />It was the Christmas of 1950 in a tiny third floor tenement apartment in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Pawtucket</span>, Rhode Island. This was my first Christmas with Thelma, my then twenty something-single-mother. We had just come home from Plymouth, New Hampshire, where I was born in less than auspicious circumstances, in a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">hospital</span> which has since been torn down, I might add. My grandmother had allowed Thelma to fix-up the tiny third floor attic apartment where we could live! As angry as my grandmother had been that my mother had become pregnant, all it took was one look at me to melt her heart! I can have that affect on people! :)<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: lucida grande;"></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2RIyWw44fTOQXoxBxa6mFSibyZJMSZ3en1Cq_RDmNxsA_-caiEt3bQdBObjRSviPtPMIlzT9iqX8ytIpHbcUORwnWhyphenhyphenTDgwyn3XfArjVn3swkqOx8oe3hG3Mh_YBU6sGqFC5JOGTG_Ry/s1600-h/mom2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2RIyWw44fTOQXoxBxa6mFSibyZJMSZ3en1Cq_RDmNxsA_-caiEt3bQdBObjRSviPtPMIlzT9iqX8ytIpHbcUORwnWhyphenhyphenTDgwyn3XfArjVn3swkqOx8oe3hG3Mh_YBU6sGqFC5JOGTG_Ry/s400/mom2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276845991096182850" border="0" /></a><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzLyIHB1Y-NErZJnyuLu-3LB1EiOMOa0jb_V-r_0gccTku6H7SVLn8Bzl3gLq_XbOc6gw9w6Gw5sqdKVyoaaBx_9q4crYOPSB49OChQZaN-_NzDcd1vHa35mTDzpuA3Qmc0sFalaExpLN/s1600-h/Susan1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzLyIHB1Y-NErZJnyuLu-3LB1EiOMOa0jb_V-r_0gccTku6H7SVLn8Bzl3gLq_XbOc6gw9w6Gw5sqdKVyoaaBx_9q4crYOPSB49OChQZaN-_NzDcd1vHa35mTDzpuA3Qmc0sFalaExpLN/s400/Susan1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276845985445134786" border="0" /></a>This is the early version of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">porta</span>-crib! Notice the statue of a saint in the window... this was during my short lived Catholic period, followed by the longer Episcopalian period.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGy1AR0gvt76k7Ca7nEaV_jl4LGflIg7mXjPH_CkXsX5TbFsuMwj0M1ZsS9KsP8PWEMmjXsSjSikEa16gaMa_MSF5xN3_cnPpwExdSAy2VieSZ0zc8bPble_UCCnb6Xlv9pi5iC5tk__uq/s1600-h/Susan16_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 336px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGy1AR0gvt76k7Ca7nEaV_jl4LGflIg7mXjPH_CkXsX5TbFsuMwj0M1ZsS9KsP8PWEMmjXsSjSikEa16gaMa_MSF5xN3_cnPpwExdSAy2VieSZ0zc8bPble_UCCnb6Xlv9pi5iC5tk__uq/s400/Susan16_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276845988173033826" border="0" /></a> In 1952 Santa and I had a great deal to talk about! When we gave a copy of this picture to my great-grandmother she proceeded to tear Santa out of the picture because, as she said "We don't know him" and indeed we did not!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rICymIRS7U6xNQPaVGCg_ZDGldGiq5rl6bQWE9NxCCc1LEfHz0S0oo5VImuRLz-zWj1BLycwXN25f57MJ02vS4WyySgF8DI9dUAvLzYX-3Zf0JNFvxo1Vv7w11eOGpIVsw6dE1At7yAN/s1600-h/Susan12_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 382px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6rICymIRS7U6xNQPaVGCg_ZDGldGiq5rl6bQWE9NxCCc1LEfHz0S0oo5VImuRLz-zWj1BLycwXN25f57MJ02vS4WyySgF8DI9dUAvLzYX-3Zf0JNFvxo1Vv7w11eOGpIVsw6dE1At7yAN/s400/Susan12_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276845982398589906" border="0" /></a>Well, Santa came through and I received the BIG dolly I was longing for! Isn't she cute? Aren't we both cute? Check out the wallpaper and sofa contrast in flowers... my my my!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDO5JnhBCjCRaOmdx-3LQy72gxWdzVjEQY9TKmpUOM9dwm1sqGh2F2RzUlrNcqj7xzT6KBTPwuL0KP4h4nhgdB8hpLmdn59hBSwU2_zpBXDSzgyWu8tpIC1zvkuKsoQLunpS7__j0rK-IN/s1600-h/Susan21.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 396px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDO5JnhBCjCRaOmdx-3LQy72gxWdzVjEQY9TKmpUOM9dwm1sqGh2F2RzUlrNcqj7xzT6KBTPwuL0KP4h4nhgdB8hpLmdn59hBSwU2_zpBXDSzgyWu8tpIC1zvkuKsoQLunpS7__j0rK-IN/s400/Susan21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276845978522984594" border="0" /></a>Christmas in 1955 or 56 in Miami, Florida and the last Christmas I would spend with my mother for many years! The next several Christmases I would spend surrounded by 15 or 16 "strays" all living in the care of Harry and Marie <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ingals</span> on 101st Street on the Northwest side of Miami, just over the bridge from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Hialeajh</span>. Those Christmases would the most secure of my childhood.<br /><br />Wherever you spend this Christmas I pray it will be safe and secure and full of love and spent with those for whom you care deeply.Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-51803850387042802152008-11-26T08:03:00.003-05:002008-11-26T08:17:15.357-05:00100 Things That Make, Me Happy, Joyful and Thankful!I was challenged by a fellow blogger and so this morning I have had so much fun thinking about these things... I am sure there are hundreds more but this will get you started! I wish each of you my readers a blessed Thanksgiving day. What makes you happy,joyful and thankful?<br /><br />1. The sounds of birds in the backyard<br />2. The smell of fresh coffee<br />3. The feel of sand beneath my feet<br />4. The crunch of leaves in the fall<br />5. That picture of sun rays coming through the leaves on the trees with dust particles dancing on the rays.<br />6. The donkeys in the field near our home<br />7. The taste of the bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches that my mom used to make for me.<br />8. Seeing my grown kids laughing with each other<br />9. Having my husband spoil me the way he does<br />10. The sound of the tea pot whistle<br />11. The look from students when they ‘get it’!<br />12. Talking with good friends<br />13. Starbucks, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">grande</span> skinny green tea latte, iced, with extra ice on the side please, and with a shot of espresso sometimes<br />14. Starbucks, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">grande</span> skinny vanilla latte<br />15. Singing at church<br />16. Watching my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">grand kids</span> ride in the wagon with G-pa<br />17. Reading a good book that I can’t put down<br />18. Staying in my pajamas on a day when I am not sick<br />19. The smell of clean laundry fresh out of the dryer<br />20. The smell of burning leaves in the neighborhood<br />21. The sound of the surf hitting the beach<br />22. Watching the waves roll in on a stormy day<br />23. The feeling of pride in a job well done!<br />24. Clean bathrooms<br />25. Fresh crispy sheets on my bed<br />26. Riding in the car on the back roads with my husband<br />27. Looking at the Rockies as you approach from Kansas<br />28. Seeing the Grand Canyon<br />29. Waiting for ‘Ole Faithful to erupt<br />30. The amazing joy of seeing each of my five children brought into the world healthy and the sound of that first cry<br />31. Seeing my old high school after forty years<br />32. The ‘discovering my roots’ tour with Sandy Hay<br />33. Listening to my mom laugh and talk when she was still alive<br />34. Spending the time right after work with my husband, having coffee, watching the news each evening.<br />35. The feeling that a fire in the fireplace gives me<br />36. Seeing historical sights and markers anywhere<br />37. Reading about the history of the places I have<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"></span> lived<br />38. Giving God the glory for my recovery from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Guillian</span>-Barre over 30 years ago<br />39. The memories of going to the mission field in Anguilla,St. Martin, Mexico City, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Puerto</span> Rico<br />40. The joy of watching my kids travel to other mission fields<br />41. White fluffy terrycloth bathrobes<br />42. My amazing new bookcases, lovingly handcrafted by my amazing husband<br />43. Seeing each of my girls get married in amazing weddings each of their own design and personality<br />44. Remembering times at the alter in Bible college<br />45. Remembering all the people who took my kids and I in when we were on our own!<br />46. The joy of purchasing new furniture for the first time EVER last year!<br />47. The joy of signing papers on our 1st EVER home purchase last year!<br />48. The amazing story of how our kids surprised us with an extreme home make over before we moved in!<br />49. The feeling I get every time I drive up to my house!<br />50. Remembering the awesome trip home from Florida with my friend Carole- reading Lisa Samson’s book <span style="font-style: italic;">Women’s Intuition</span> –aloud to each other all the way!<br />51. Remembering the trip by myself driving my 1987 pick-up truck all the way to Florida taking back roads and finding places I had lived as a child and discovering St. Simon’s for the first time. Incredible!<br />52. Staying overnight in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Theime</span>’s funeral home in 1971 being scared to death by the guys living there. Sleeping on sheets from the morgue! Ah!!<br />53. The miracle of wireless <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Internet</span>, digital photography and the whole cell phone thing<br />54. The way my classroom smells after I clean it and put in new air fresheners<br />55. Decorating my classroom<br />56. The joy of owning special 1st editions of special authors and missionary books!<br />57. The taste of the first hamburger of the season from the grill<br />58. Meeting up with Carol Miller and Debby <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Kitts</span> after 35 years and spending three days talking and laughing!<br />59. The thrill of knowing I have the whole summer off from school!<br />60. The joy of doing our taxes and getting a tax refund!<br />61. The fun of learning our way around a new town and a new culture!<br />62. The way a new baby snuggles and how a clean baby smells.<br />63. Knowing what Christ did for me!<br />64. Seeing my old teachers at the 40<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">th</span> reunion<br />65. Seeing Jo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Daughtery</span> my old high school youth group leader from church!<br />66. Seeing my high school friend Robin at the reunion<br />67. Listening to Garey play the piano<br />68. Listening to Garey play the drums<br />69. Getting my teeth fixed!<br />70. The feel of getting a manicure and pedicure<br />71. The feeling of walking out of the hair salon with a new cut and highlights<br />72. Traveling with Leslie and the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Buoy</span> Babes to Hilton Head<br />73. Seeing the whole family at the Christmas House!<br />74. The day I graduated with my Master’s Degree in 2007!<br />75. The day I FINALLY finished my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Bachelor</span>’s degree in 2005<br />76. The day Garey and I were married<br />77. Going to ‘Nana Camp’ at the beach with the grand kids!<br />78. Pecan pie<br />79. Watching parades – especially the bagpipers<br />80. Occasional football games<br />81. Blogging, Twittering, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Facebooking</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Texting</span> (are those words?)<br />82. The smell of bacon frying<br />83. The excitement of our school accreditation visit going extremely well!<br />84. The joy of knowing I did a good job creating the Curriculum guides for the whole school, for every subject!<br />85. Surprises!<br />86. Fresh flowers<br />87. The thrill I used to feel whenever the yearbook made deadline.. and even more exciting when the books won awards!<br />88. The feeling of a good work out at the gym!<br />89. The way I used to feel riding horses across the fields in California<br />90. My old stuffed animal <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Starvel</span><br />91. Many of our pets through the years.. happy and sad<br />92. The way the house looks when it is especially clean!<br />93. The way house looks decorated for Christmas!<br />94. Remembering my Nana..<br />95. Knowing that getting older is a joyful thing!<br />96. My kitchen – even though I don’t really like to cook!<br />97. The pride I feel in each one of my children, Stephanie, Jennifer, Amanda, Jaime and Daniel!<br />98. The love I feel in my heart for each of my children, their spouses, my grandchildren and for my husband.<br />99. God’s grace on my life<br />100. Looking forward to Heaven – in about 32 + years!Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-67784663730226382242008-11-16T09:22:00.007-05:002008-11-16T11:09:08.274-05:00Procrastinators's dream...<span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >"<em>Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task."</em></span><br /><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" ><em> - William James</em></span><br /></div><br /> One of the things that keeps me from blogging as regularly as I would like to is that I procrastinate! Yes, it is true... I stall at getting started. And why after 58 years should this come as revelation? It is not revelation at all... I am the one who came within 3 credit hours of earning a degree in 1972 and then did not complete it for 33 years! But then I finished my master's degree in just under two years, so go figure! I am the one who purchased 50 yards of quilted material about 35 years ago to make place mats for everyone I knew and then made one set; gave out IOU's for the rest and proceeded to carry that 50 yards of material around the country with me for the next 30 years or so until I gave up and gave the whole shootin' match to someone else to finish. I am the one who learned to "hook" rugs from a kit, and after making one 12x12 square thought that I would hook rugs for the world and so purchased little rug kits for many, many people ... and well you get the picture. I purchased and gave "empty" scrap books to my children several Christmases ago with the promise of putting the pictures of their lives onto the pages and so far I have moved the scrapbooks (still empty) to two different states. I mean, I am the parent who has a barely - started baby book for child number 1, an empty book for child number 2, and no book at all for children 3,4, and 5 (although I think I did have calendars with stickers to show when they took their first steps etc.) . I buy cards for sick friends and fret over what to write so I can say the perfect thing and then do not send it until it is too late and they have already passed away! (This has really happened.. and just to show my friend Anne that I was thinking of her mother, I finally sent the cards.. years after her mother's death!)<br /><br /> Now in fairness to me there have been some mitigating circumstances... 5 children... total paralysis...(not the mental kind either) ... many moves...multiple jobs... oh and did I mention 5 children? But in reality procrastination seems to have come in my gene pool with a side order of perfectionism. There they are - the destructive fraternal twins... <span style="font-style: italic;">procrastination ism</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">perfectionism. </span>Why even start something if it is not going to be perfect? I started this blog with the very notion that it indeed did not need to be perfect and then all it took was one off-handed quasi-critical comment about my bad spelling and grammar and since then fear has kept me from sitting down and blogging very often. Now the truth is that I know that my brain runs much faster than my fingers and so in my haste to spill the words onto the page, I often make mistakes. I tend to write like I speak-- in bits and pieces. But another part of my brain says... If you aren't going to make it perfect then don't even try! There has always been a war within me about things like this.<br /><br /> When getting ready to go on a trip I will procrastinate until about 9pm on the night before and then start cleaning like a woman possessed. I usually begin in the bathroom with the grout.. because, you see, if I die while on vacation and someone has to come into my house -- heaven forbid they should find dirty grout around the tub... next is the oven... then the mattress pads and clean sheets. I try to wash, dry and fold every piece of fabric in the house. I empty the trash and wash the trash can out. I vacuum and dust. Run the dishwasher, clean out the refrigerator and somewhere around 3 in the morning I decide to pack! My poor husband learned long ago that if he is going to get any sleep at all (he wisely goes to bed at 9:00pm) then he needs to make sure I take all luggage and clothing out of our room and into the living room where I can go through my OCD pre-travel ritual. All so that in the event of my demise... people might find my house "perfect"? Am I nuts? These would be the same people who already know that I am far from perfect! Now my husband will awake in the morning (@4:30 like always) refreshed from a good night of sleep, he will shower and pack his gym bag with about three days worth of clothes, turn off his computer and he is ready to go! (This took him about an hour-including his shower,coffee and breakfast). While I am still running around on about 2 hours of sleep, unplugging EVERYTHING, plugging in light timers, in an ridiculous attempt to make the house look occupied even though the WHOLE neighborhood knows we will be gone. This is why I don't travel very much.<br />I could write for days about how I procrastinate grading papers and writing lesson plans, but we can save this for another day.<br /><br /> So what on earth am I trying to say here? I don't think I will ever get over the procrastination/perfectionism dilemma. This blog will never be perfect.. it will still be sporadic because I of course still want it to be perfect and so will not write down half of what I would like to. Does any of this make sense to you? I have run spell check about four times so far. So do I publish this or not? Should I take a chance and run the risk of public criticism? You decide.... oh yea.. I will have to publish for this to happen.... hmmmmm I will re-read this a few times and think about it and then decide.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><em>"Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task."</em><br /><em>- William James</em></div>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-52897731053739884752008-11-09T22:17:00.002-05:002008-11-09T23:03:39.355-05:00Post Election Let Down SyndromeNow that the election is over and we have a new bevy of elected politicians and a new president- elect, I believe I am experiencing post election let down syndrome. For almost two years we watched with interest as a parade of would be nominees made their way across our states and our television screens. For months we watched and taped the primary debates with a cast of characters on both sides of the aisle. We watched the conventions of each party as they selected their nominee. We listened to pundits rattle off endless issues and non issues. In the last months of the campaign we were inundated with more commercials than I thought even possible. We saw the mud being slung, character <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">assassinated</span>, and a liberal media crown their heir apparent. We watched a number of firsts; glass ceilings were cracked (whatever that means), racial barriers were torn asunder, and we saw enough money spent on advertising to run a small nation for a long time! <br />And then just like that - it was over. The candidates commercials stopped, the signs disappeared from the yards, the "news" went back to talking about Madonna or some other non news-news. It is all over for another election cycle. No more will we hear Kay Hagan say "I will let you know". There is no more talk of expensive wardrobes or haircuts, no more late night comedy gigs using the word "also" way to much!<br />I find myself channeling surfing more than usual. I am struggling to make conversation about... well anything. Everyone I voted for lost and I am sad for them. I am sad for me. I have been alive through several presidencies; Truman- I was a baby and he had already dropped the bomb on Japan. Eisenhower - former famous General, wife Mamie. Kennedy- a terrible tragedy, November 22, 1963- I was in the 8th grade. LBJ- never a favorite, but one of his daughters got married at the White House and so it all evened out. Nixon- oh the shame still burns on my face when I think about it. Gerald Ford- golfer, bad golfer. Carter- gas lines, a crazy brother who urinated in public. Reagan- now there was a president! George H W Bush- 1st desert storm one term wonder. Clinton- "He did NOT have ... "well you know the rest.<br />George Bush the current president- 9/11, Afganistan, Iraq,the Tsunami, Katrina, economic crisis, brought honor and integrity to the office, many would argue. So I have seen good, bad and horrible presidencies, 11 in all. But part of what makes this a great nation is that we still have a great nation oft times in spite of our ourselves. So we give each new guy a chance. We pray for him and wish him well and then we wait and see. .... In the mean time you will find me emerging from my post election stupor, battle weary, but still proud to be an American!Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-27398395874779628142008-11-01T21:02:00.004-04:002008-11-01T21:31:32.594-04:00You have got to be kidding right? In defense of books!So recently I have been following the newest gizmo being offered for sale on Amazon.com . Now I am all for gizmos and gadgets. I mean I have an ipod,a laptop and a desktop computer,a cell phone, and a digital camera. But the lastest gizmo I think just might be the biggest bamboozal ever sold to a gullible people!( All political races aside) The gadget of which I speak is the "Kindle" offered by Amazon for the price of $359.00. The makers tout the product as;<br /><div class="buying"><h1 class="parsesans"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span id="btAsinTitle" style="">Kindle: Amazon's Wireless Reading Device</span></span></h1> <span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/s?ie=UTF8&search-alias=kindle-accessories&field-brandtextbin=Amazon.com"></a> </span> </div> <div class="tiny"> "This is the future of book reading. It will be everywhere." Michael Lewis, author of <i>Moneyball</i> and <i>Liar's Poker</i>.<br /><br />A wireless reading device... hmmm ... I might be going out on a limb here but is not a book a wireless reading device? All of my books are wireless! In fact that is one thing I love about them. I know, I know, the product is capable of downloading multiple books into the the little device, but it further promotes itself in this manner... <br /><br />• Revolutionary electronic-paper display provides a sharp, high-resolution screen that looks and reads like real paper.<br /> • Simple to use: no computer, no cables, no syncing.<br /><br />Am I crazy or is a book not the same thing? Looks and feels like and IS real paper! <br />A book is simple to use and has no cables or wires either!<br />A book does not cost $359.00 dollars before the cost of downloads! Ahhhhhhhhhh<br /><br />I was recently blessed with the most amazing set of hand crafted bookcases, lovingly built by my dear husband. Bookcases for BOOKS! Lots and lots of books! Now if he knew that a little device like the Kindle could replace the need for the bookcases he could have saved a good deal of money and a great deal of space... he just might have bought me the Kindle! But then where would I have put my dear books? <br /><br />Now one day I might be forced into buying a Kindle in order to get a book and then perhaps the feel of paper will be a thing of the past! But until then I will visit the Library, go to the book stores, and lovingly take books from my new bookshelves and read their sweet pages. All without wires! I have the original Kindle... wireless reading device...it is called a BOOK! <br /> <br /></div>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3773153491722810733.post-30637334182787889832008-10-26T22:02:00.003-04:002008-10-26T22:07:23.822-04:00The Ocean Always Brings Me Peace!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtWIky_LzMcXa_i_9zIVoZPcQJOinvjAsrLWV_acMvZCoyFV7BExYYosMqOIWmi8MaWcPRQuh4qaqJiov-FDOZZEYR0Yfty-kCrGEfXZw9oleEG_dfvlg4zoBCiC0zdu1mjtll-XMqLs-/s1600-h/IMG_1146.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtWIky_LzMcXa_i_9zIVoZPcQJOinvjAsrLWV_acMvZCoyFV7BExYYosMqOIWmi8MaWcPRQuh4qaqJiov-FDOZZEYR0Yfty-kCrGEfXZw9oleEG_dfvlg4zoBCiC0zdu1mjtll-XMqLs-/s400/IMG_1146.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261649092093288786" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8J68t9Fz31W1BkVzFh6av8r7YtEJqmhSN2jUdfXAuQYFaNK8BXiPvjwr5QsjQEv1m4xBStSMNVNEFlgD3f5p0DImeDdqebhxpV_LJ1nwPfUug0c1VDV1QR0xHCXWa1GZ3mwciDMJRakd/s1600-h/IMG_1141.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8J68t9Fz31W1BkVzFh6av8r7YtEJqmhSN2jUdfXAuQYFaNK8BXiPvjwr5QsjQEv1m4xBStSMNVNEFlgD3f5p0DImeDdqebhxpV_LJ1nwPfUug0c1VDV1QR0xHCXWa1GZ3mwciDMJRakd/s400/IMG_1141.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261649088558888898" border="0" /></a>Nana2Sixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10948108951297365909noreply@blogger.com0