The Best

My daughter Carrie is expecting a baby any day now; in fact, from what she’s told me, Colton might arrive this weekend. That’d be nice. We’re all getting anxious to see his little face. Will this be a dark haired baby like Carrie’s family or another fair haired, blue eyed one like Rich’s? Doesn’t matter. We just want the little fellow to arrive safe and sound, healthy and strong. And we want his sweet mama to have a smooth, uneventful delivery.

Speaking of Carrie, she and Rick met at a restaurant for lunch the other day, an event so infrequent that it was triply special. A sweet friend of hers who offered to babysit for the girls made the rendezvous possible. Thanks Lorinda. Anyway, as my daughter was telling me about their lunch, I was reminded of just “what a guy” Rich is, and it breaks my heart that more men don’t treat their wives, sweethearts, mothers, sisters, girlfriends, grandmothers, daughters with respect and honor. EVERYONE deserves the best that life and love have to offer. Yes, men do too. It’s just that right now I’m on a female jag.

Years ago, I was acquainted with a beautiful, intelligent young woman who was experiencing a bit of annoyance with her husband. Seems that after she would wash and fold the clothes, she’d put the linens and her clothes away but would leave his on the foot of the bed, not because she was averse to putting them in his drawers but because he was a little picky about what went where. Anyway, the annoyance came in because if bedtime came and his clothes were still on the bed, he’d slide in under the covers, thus knocking this freshly laundered and neatly folded undies on the floor. When she sweetly and demurely mentioned this to him, he replied that it was her job to do something with the clothes. His rationale was that since he made 70% of the income and she made 30%, then she should do 70% of all household duties.  I tried (unsuccessfully) to convince her of her worthiness, but I’m sure I struck out.

Thank goodness my daughters know of their divine heritage and individual worth. They’re daughters of a King, and they know it. Sure, we all forget from time to time as we get wrapped up in the craziness of life and relationships, but the bottom line that EVERYONE DESERVES THE BEST THAT LOVE AND LIFE HAVE TO OFFER. That 70/30 rule is for the birds.

Back to Carrie, she’s a co-creator of life itself. SOON, the baby nestled beneath her heart will be in her arms. She deserves respect, honor, preferential treatment, love, casseroles, kisses, and prayers from Rich and the children and any and everyone else within her sphere.  

Yuletide Memories

Ouch. Hayden’s comment about my new header made me realize that yes indeed, I have gotten a lot of mileage out of my New York trip and the dozens and dozens of pictures. So much in fact that I went straight from NYC to Williamsburg and then jumped right over Christmas. It’s not that I didn’t have good intentions of recording all of the joyous moments and memorable sights and sounds. Is it too late now? I hope not. Warning: If you don’t know me, you’ll probably be bored to tears. If you do know me and my loved ones, then you might enjoy it.  

On the Saturday before Christmas we got together with DH’s extended family for a scrumptious dinner and fun family time. Santa came by for a visit, thus making the day even more memorable. DH’s nephew donned the red suit and black boots and apparently did such a great job of impersonating the jolly  visitor from the North Pole that his little daughter later said, “You wouldn’t believe what you missed, Dad. Santa came while you were gone!” Aren’t kids wonderful?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Sunday, I enjoyed singing and hearing Christmas carols. That afternoon and into the evening, Mr. B. and I wrapped gifts and decorated the house for a breakfast on Monday morning. I sneaked out for a couple of hours that night to hear a beautiful, soul-stirring cantata at First Baptist Church. DH doesn’t much care for such goings-on, so I was fortunate to run into Lisa and Sophia, some church friends.

On Monday, DH’s children and grandchildren arrived for a heavy duty breakfast and gift exchange, and Tuesday found my sister and me in Myrtle Beach for the day so that we could spend some time with our brother David and his family. The lucky stiffs were renting a condo on Ocean Boulevard, and it was nice to have a few hours to reunite with them. To sweeten the day, my sister-in-law Becky’s sisters arrived in time for lunch, thus another reunion. Did I mention that my good looking son met us at the food court at Coastal Grand Mall?

Christmas Eve was spent cooking, cleaning, wrapping, and delivering goodies. On Christmas day, we motored over to Columbia to eat with Mike, my other brother, and his family. Our Aunt Joni joined us. Huge fun. Mike and Lisa’s home has a warm, welcoming feel to it, especially the kitchen. Oh, but so does the family room. Come to think of it, so does the dining room where we gathered around a large round table. Hmm, so does the sun room which they’re recently furnished.

 

 My children and grandchildren arrived that afternoon, Elizabeth first and then the Crolleys and Masedas. It was delightful to have them all here, and we spent the evening doing what thousands of other families were doing: eating and opening gifts. Speaking of the eating part, my son keeps reminding me to “stick to the basics, Mom,” and this year I did it. Sure, I mixed and measured and grilled and broiled and baked with the best of them (so to speak), but I did stick to a simple menu. That way, I was an itty bitty less harried and thus more into the merry spirit of the occasion. But I digress. Here are the grandchildren sitting in the Adirondack chairs that Elizabeth and her friend Carla painted and decorated for them. 

While it was fun, I kept thinking something was missing. Later, I realized what it was: We had no program. That might seem like a strange thing to say, but years ago, we began having a program of sorts.  Someone would read the Christmas story in Luke, I would read “A Cup of Christmas Tea” (sweet story) or some other little book or poem, their dad would read “One Solitary Life,” and we’d often end with Paul exclaiming (like Tiny Tim), “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”  I recall one year before my mother’s death when Ann gave us a Christmas quiz dealing with Biblical information, and I think Greg, a preteen at the time, won the prize. I couldn’t even remember the name of Elisabeth’s husband. Well, at least I knew the name of the angel who visited Mary…unlike someone who shall remain unnamed.

Read between the lines, my dear children and start preparing your parts for next year. While I’m on the subject, now that we have Amanda in the family, perhaps she can add some music to our family Christmas. Hmmm. And perhaps Rich and Braden can strum a little something on their guitars.

Okay, we’re up to Friday, a day the girls and I spent shopping and exchanging things. Greg and Anna were getting married the next day, and we had to make sure that our attire was appropriate from head to toe. Paul and Amanda met us for lunch, as did Sarah Beth, my niece. That night Mr. B. and I went to Greg and Anna’s rehearsal dinner in Florence, a very nice affair. Sitting around the table with my sibs and their spouses, DH, and Paul and Amanda was fantabulous (that’s a real word; I heard it in Van Morrison’s “Moondance”). The groom’s father Allen gave an excellent toast, heartfelt and articulate.

Saturday arrived cold and wet. One of my fondest memories of the day is of walking through the dining room and seeing Paul, Amanda, Carrie, and Rich playing Buzzword in the dining room while hearing sounds of laugher from Elizabeth and Emma from the bedroom down the hall. Braden was off somewhere being “serious,” and Brooke was shriveling and shivering in the bathtub. Yep, we temporarily forgot her with all of our busyness. 

FINALLY, we were all ready to head out to Pamplico for the wedding. It was beautiful. My niece Katherine sang “Surely the Presence,” a hymn that I love. I hope someone sings it at my funeral. Paul was a groomsman, and he and Greg were the most handsome fellas up front. John and Chris, David’s sons, were in the congregation, and they’re pretty easy on the eyes too. Do I sound a bit biased? Perhaps I am. A nice reception followed, and my favorite part of the evening was dancing with Baby Emma.

Sunday morning found us at church. It was divine (really) to sit with people I’m kin to. Mr. B. isn’t much of a churchgoer, so that’s usually a solitary activity for me. Well, sort of. I never feel alone; plus, it always brings me great joy to know that even when they’re not beside me, all three children and their families are in another ward getting the same kind of spiritual nourishment.

By Sunday at 3:00 o’clock, the house was quiet. I have my memories, and I like to think that some of the laughter lingers within our walls, especially the dining room where so much love and fun and memories were shared.

Are You Creative?

What’s not to love about a church that offers advice, guidance, and direction in all important areas of life? Throw in some extra lessons on love, encouragement, perseverance, hard work, gratitude, forgiveness, and tolerance, and you have the makings of heaven on Earth. EVERY TIME I go to church for any kind of meeting, I come away uplifted and edified, and this past Sunday was no exception.

I could go on and on about the beautiful musical presentation by four of the young women or the talks about serving others, going the second mile, or following Christ’s example in all we do. However, I’m going to concentrate on one of the presentations in Relief Society. All three speakers were fantastic, but the message about being creative and using one’s unique talents to beautify and improve the world (or at least your surroundings) is the one that really spoke to me.

After considering some definitions of creativity, the speaker asked the class for examples of how they demonstrated it…or what their talents were. At first, everyone was quiet, and then someone spoke up and said she didn’t think she really had any special gift or talent. As the discussion continued, we were reminded that we were each created by a loving Heavenly Father, a divine Creator who surely imbued all of His creations with a special spark of divinity and of uniqueness.

Almost immediately, class members began sharing some of the things they did to improve their corners of the world. The room was abuzz with ideas from gardening to decorating and singing to sewing. I glanced around at my “sisters” and thought about how their laughter, music, sense of color and style, and many other gifts create a better world for everyone, including me. I hesitate to single anyone out because they’re all creative, but I just have to add that I’m in awe of Lulu Belle’s Boutique.

So what’s your gift? Do you add an aura of peace and harmony to your home? Can you make people laugh and enjoy themselves? Can you arrange flowers? Can you frost cakes without getting the crumbs all mixed up in the icing? Can you play a musical instrument? Dance? Can you knit or crochet? Can you “make a home” in which things run smoothly and people feel comfortable?

Please share your gifts with us…or perhaps put a friend in the spotlight.

Doing What You’ve Always Done

A week or two ago, I posted something about losing weight on the Shrink Rapping blog (http://psychcentral.wordpress.com) , mainly because I was becoming increasingly annoyed at the numerous articles on losing weight and the promises of this or that product to make one into a svelte person (for a price, of course).  Several students jumped on the bandwagon and posted some honest and “true –life” responses.  Check out their posts and feel free to leave one of your own.

Today it occurred to me that while I stand by my original premise that there are no secret formulas or shortcuts to losing weight, I’d like to add a little postscript, a comment I’ve heard so many times that I’ve committed it to memory. So have many of the rest of you. The problem is that I haven’t committed it to lifestyle, to personal decisions and behaviors. Here it is: “If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always got.”

I’m an average sized gal who’s never worried that much about weight except when “with child.” Even then, I knew that it was a temporary state and that sooner or later, I’d resemble the me of yesteryear. That said, I’m carrying around 3 – 5 more pounds than I did five years ago, and while it’s true that I’m older and that my metabolism has slowed, there are things I must change IF I want to shed those few pounds. Some who know me will argue that I look fine, but the truth is that once you gain 3 or 4 pounds, it’s easier to gain 8 or 9 or 10 or 12.

What have I been doing about it? Mainly talking. All talk, no action. Sure, I still walk about 20 miles a week, and I’m pretty good about not eating fatty foods or red meat. I don’t even drink soft drinks, not even the diet variety.  However, if I’m serious about losing those four annoying pounds, then I’ve got to do something more than I have been doing. I must develop a new strategy.

So here’s the plan. Tomorrow I’m going to walk 15 minutes more AND eat one less granola bar or cookie. And I’ll do it the next day too. In fact, I’ll follow some version of the above until I’ve reached my desired weight. That said, I’m going to floss and brush right now, thus removing the temptation to waltz back into the kitchen where the goodies are.

Remember: If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always got.  What are you changing?

Self Acceptance

When I was a younger (less mature!) woman, my hair was dark, almost black, and then as I eased into my early midlife, it was salt and pepper. That was fine for a while, and then one day an exasperated friend hissed, “Why don’t you try color?” after she had heard me say that I looked like a witch and was going to cut my hair SHORT. “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” I replied. At that time, somehow I construed coloring one’s hair as artificial and too “obvious.” Interestingly, that same week, both of my teenage daughters experimented with hair color, and they looked stunning. I’m a biased mom, but still….Anyway, I changed my attitude about color and realized that it could be FUN. I followed my daughters’ examples, and for the first time in years, my bangs were dark brown. And so it began. Fifteen years later, and I’m still experimenting with color and having fun doing it.

 

Moving along, one day someone remarked that I was too old to have such dark hair. Ouch. A dagger to the heart. Not willing to go gray, I began experimenting with high lights and low lights and light brown and warm brown and all sorts of colors in-between. Nothing looked good; nothing suited me. However, some people apparently liked it. A brother-in-law even told me that I looked more real and less “plastic.” And yet, I wasn’t satisfied with my tresses.

 

My sweet daughter Elizabeth said, “Mom, it’s not you. You need to see Liz, my former hair stylist who lives 115 miles away.” My other daughter kept silent. So did my son…and DH too. Oh Christmas day, we went to Lisa and Mike’s house, and Lisa’s mother, Mrs. Mitchell was there, an 80 year old with dark brown hair. She looked fantastic. I remember once when someone asked her if her hair was (I know were is the correct verb but it looks funny here) really that dark, and without batting an eye, she said, “Yes, today.” Isn’t that great?

 

I relented and called Liz. She worked me in that week. After saying the magic words, “You’re too young to be an old lady,” she applied a medium dark color to my locks. I LOVE it. It’s more me. And if you ask, “Is that your real color?” I’ll answer, “Yes, today.” Or I might say, “Did you really ask that?”or “Are you that audaciously rude to ask a question like that?” or “Why don’t you try to improve your appearance a little too?”

 

So to Becky and Allen and any and everyone else who would prefer that I stay with high lights and low lights, I say, “This is the real Marla Jayne.” I think it was Judy Garland who said that a person should always be a first rate version of herself rather than a second rate version of someone else. Go Judy! By the way, Lisa and Elizabeth say this is the real me; the jury’s still out with DH and some others.

 

Am I writing this so that you’ll go out and color your hair? No. I’m writing this so that you’ll be true to yourself. Find what works for you and go for it, ignoring the critics and naysayers along the way.  

 

 

Principle of Power

I’ve recently had the opportunity to teach a “teacher preparation” class at church, and although I’ve enjoyed it, I’ve also found it to be a bit stressful. Teach future teachers about how to teach? Please. It’s a little discomfiting to be the sage on stage when in my heart, I know there are others who could do a far better job. Hmmm. Maybe that’s why the Bishop asked me to do it; he wanted me to learn more, to improve my teaching skills, and to gain a better grasp of gospel principles.

 

That said, today the assignment was for everyone to choose a gospel topic and outline just how he or she would teach it. Would the teacher use music and lecture? Lecture with a combination of discussion, questions, and stories? How about the use of pictures and object lessons? Excitedly, I went to class only to discover that only one person of the class had come to church and hence to class. Still, we persevered, and Kathy did an excellent job of telling about King Benjamin and his comments to his people. She asked questions, directed my attention to a picture of King Benjamin in the tower, read scriptures, and generated a discussion between the two of us. She did a superlative job, and her future students are in for a treat.

 

On the outside chance that folks showed up unprepared, I decided to follow the homework instructions for myself. Faith was the topic I chose, and I looked it up in the Bible dictionary, read several scriptures about it, found a modern day story about it, and brought some sunflower seeds posing as mustard seeds. Kathy’s presentation was so good that I didn’t get to any of my “stuff,” but since I came across such great material, I’d like to share some food for thought.

 

I could write about Christ’s remark to the frightened disciples about their being of little faith or of his statement to the woman who had touched his robe: “Thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.” There are dozens of such stories. What grabbed me most, however, is a statement by Talmadge in Jesus the Christ: “Faith is of itself a principle of power; and by its presence or absence, by its fullness or paucity, even the Lord was and is influenced.” Isn’t that potent?

 

Is there something you want or need? Is there something you’ve been praying for, something that you’d like to have happen in your life? Are you fervently praying for it AND doing the things that would make that dream more of a reality? If so, do you truly believe that your Heavenly Father will help you find that job, complete that course, sell that house, heal your loved one, ease your pain, or give you confidence?

 

Active faith must take the place of passive belief on the part of would-be recipients if we are to receive our Father’s richest blessings. It’s foolish to say something like, “I have faith that I’m going to do well in the course,” and then watch football all afternoon instead of studying. It’s crazy to have faith that God is going to heal you from an infirmity if you fail to seek or follow medical advice. It’s foolhardy to pray that your children will stay on the straight and narrow if you’re serving as a sorry example of what that means. It’s senseless to ask your Creator to help you handle stress when you continue saying, “Yes,” to every request made of you even when you know you’re already overscheduled and overburdened.

 

I just remembered a quote by Joan of Arc that fits perfectly here at the end: “Act, and God will act.” If you don’t act, why should you expect Him to?

Williamsburg

The week after the New York  trip, DH and I accompanied his brother Lynn and his wife Karen to Williamsburg. Lest any readers think we’re rolling in dough, think again. This was a free trip, thanks to my in-laws. Part of a time share deal, all we had to pay for was the admission price to Colonial Williamsburg, and since DH opted to visit the Bass Pro Shop in nearby Hampton, VA, there was only one admission price to pay. Sure, we had to pay for food, but since we’d have eaten at home too, it wasn’t that bad. With our “deal,” we also got a $60 coupon towards dinner in a local restaurant, and the food was scrumptious. I even ate apple pie with creamy vanilla ice cream; after all, we were on vacation!

So what did we do? For starters, I took a 45 minute walk each morning we were there, and on the first morning hike I called my brother David who lives in Chesapeake. “Where are you exactly ?” he asked, and when I told him, it was neat that he knew my location and was able to point out some of the attractions around me. Being in the military, he’s lived away from SC all of his adult life, and I found it exciting to see and think about some of the things that David, Becky, and their sons have viewed for years. And it gets better. That night, he and Becky drove from Chesapeake to Williamsburg, and we dined with them at Panera Bread before going to the Williamsburg Inn for a photo op. We also browsed through the Barnes & Noble bookstore there, a favorite haunt of theirs.

Saturday was my favorite day in Williamsburg, and I think Karen would agree with me. The menfolk dropped us off at 9:30 and picked us up at 5:30 in the afternoon. While they spent their day at Bass Pro Shop and in the motel room napping, we spent our day soaking up history. We LOVED it. Talk about going back in time! I included just a few pictures that show the contrast between colonial America and current day NYC. The clothes, the traditions, the sounds, the food, the behavior, the diversity (or lack thereof)…everything was drastically different.  When touring the historic area, we saw reenactments such as Order in the Court, sent some Christmas cards with an 18^th century postmark from the post office,   visited a millinery and a blacksmith shop (among others), and ate lunch at Shield’s Tavern. At the Governor’s Palace, we learned that restrooms were called “necessaries” and that people in Colonial America didn’t have Christmas trees.

 Before the men picked us up, we took a bus ride of the periphery and then ended up in the more up-to-date touristy shopping area. There we saw a man “do” A Christmas Carol (all parts), talked to Santa, and listened to a group of women sing Christmas carols.  I told Santa I wanted peace on Earth for Christmas, and he said, “Ho ho ho.” I bought a chocolate and caramel covered apple that was covered with pecans, and I savored the moments of attempting to eat it while listening to the carolers. Thank goodness for my little pink Swiss army knife that I used to cut a few nibbles off with.

And thank goodness for the opportunity to visit this reconstructed village that was so important in our nation’s history. And thank goodness for Williamsburg itself. And while I’m at it…thank goodness for America, a land that’s choice above all other lands.

Last Day in NYC

This is absolutely the last New York entry. Classes begin Monday, and I’ve got a lot to catch up with before then. Plus, by this time next week, I’ll be pretty much snowed under with limited time for blogging.

This picture was made at Tavern on the Green, a restaurant that had been “talked up” to us by other visitors to the city. What we basically thought (and I think I speak for all of us) was that the food was overpriced and “okay.” To be quite honest, even the atmosphere was just okay, a 7 on a scale of 10. I’m sure the okay factor is at least partially because of where we were seated, in a noisy area between two dining rooms, and two of us (including yours truly) had our backs to the snazziest dining area in the restaurant. I NEVER like to sit with my back to others, and I found it especially loathsome this particular night. If I couldn’t sit in the pretty area, I’d at least like to enjoy the view.  In retrospect, maybe we should have said something about it.

Here’s what we liked best about the evening. Meal complete, we began our journey (really) to the front of the restaurant to get our coats, and when we looked outside, we saw some gently falling snow. It was lovely. When we made it outside, we were enjoying the snow so much that at first we didn’t notice that there were no taxis anywhere. None. Nada. And there were a lot of people standing out in the falling snow in the same situation…no way back to the theatre district. A man standing beside a van approached us and offered to take us for $35, and someone (not sure who) said yes. We piled in, and by the time we’d turned out of the park area, we realized that there was a stranger amongst us, a petite curly haired woman who said she saw us getting in the van and figured she’d join us. Turns out that she was a urologist who’d eaten at the tavern with fellow doctors, and she regaled us with neat information all the way back to our hotel. When we told her that we had all just turned the big 6-0, she admitted that her big birthday was coming up in 2009.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. Our limo (Joan Ella arranged this) picked us up at 10:30 sharp, and the city seemed quiet and gray as we cruised over the bridge and towards the airport. We checked our bags and found our terminal without mishap, and as I sat down to wait for time to board, I looked outside and saw snowflakes. Even though they only lasted about three minutes, I just had to call DH and let him know, and for some reason, that memory seems special…something about connections and sharing, I guess.

The trip back to NC was uneventful, and after landing in Charlotte and retrieving our bags, we headed for SC. Ah, but first we had to stop at Cracker Barrel for a light dinner. It was SO GOOD! Truly, it was one of the best meals we’d had in days, but then we’re Southern born and bred, and we enjoy corn bread and other such vittles. Leaving Charlotte, we began the long, curvy (especially HWY 97) ride home, and as we parted company at Patty’s, we decided that a good time was had by all.

None of us got to do every single thing she wanted to do. For instance, I didn’t get to visit the New York Public Library or Ellis Island. Jeanita didn’t get to go to Tiffany’s, and I don’t think Patty saw any ice skaters at Rockefeller Center. STILL, since I’ve been home, I’ve had a dozen people  tell me how much they long to go to New York. Some want to see a real Broadway show, and others have told me that it’s always been a dream to see the “beautiful lady” in the harbor.

Why did I mention the above? For two reasons: (1) If traveling to New York City is truly on your list of places to visit, do it. Seriously.  Start planning and saving today. (2) I’ve realized that I need to be more grateful. I’m fortunate to have seen and heard all the sights and sounds of my recent trip and to have done so with such good friends. It’s kind of whiny to say, “Yes, but I didn’t get to….”  So what? I got to do a lot of other things. So did we all. Ain’t life grand?

Random Pix

I snapped these other pictures because they’re of sights not seen in my sleepy little town, and I wanted to remember that somewhere there’s an Elmo standing on a busy sidewalk. I love furry little Elmo. When I move the Elmo chair I bought for the grandchildren, he giggles and says, “Elmo loves you.” We also saw Minnie Mouse and the Tin Man standing around.

Before going inside of Macy’s, we stood staring at the decorated windows like the awe-struck tourists that we were. Look closely at this cool picture, and you can see Judy’s face reflected in the tree. Her nose has an ornament on it.

I’ve been  taking my Macy’s bag to work this week. I didn’t want to use it for fear of getting it dirty or worn looking, but then I thought, “What in the heck am I saving it for?” It’s black and gray with gold and gray stars all over it. When Jeanita and I bought them, we talked about how they’d remind of the Christmas season and the star over Bethlehem, the “stellar” qualities that all women have, and the hustle and bustle of Macy’s itself. I love it…just like I loved the time in Macy’s.  A young Korean couple took our picture, and I took one of them and their sweet baby. We rode the escalator to the top just so we could say we rode the wooden ones, and we did a little shopping too.

Speaking of shopping, we looked all through Macy’s for just the right scarves to take back to family in SC, but none were just what I was looking for.  After we left there, however, we came across dozens of vendors on the street. We finally stopped at one near Rockefeller Center, and with Jeanita’s helpful guidance, I selected ones for Carrie, Elizabeth, Paul, Amanda, Donna, and Jayne. As far as I know, everyone is enjoying them, especially after I gave the lesson on scarf tying (?) and explained that these scarves had come directly from the streets of NY.

The Time’s Square picture speaks for itself…as does the adorable big red M & M. The picture of the American Society of Buddhist studies is one that I snapped in Chinatown for my brother who ribs me about worshipping Buddha (ha ha). I can tell him that I worship God and His beloved son Jesus Christ until I’m blue in the face, but he still hassles me.  After he leaves my home, I almost always have to turn my little Buddha statue, a decorative item from my son, back around the right way. Alas.

Folks, there’s only one more entry I plan to post about the NYC trip. My goals have been to chronicle our goings-on and to motivate some of you who’ve been wanting to go but have been procrastinating.  Have you looked up air fare and hotels on Expedia yet?

Moon and Stars

 I just got in from a quick pre-book club walk around the neighborhood, and I just had to take a moment to share something: the moon is fabulously beautiful tonight. High in the sky and silhouetted again the bare limbed, stark trees and a gray sky, it was breathtaking.

It makes me think of something Elizabeth and I chatted about a week or so ago. We talked about the importance of writing in our gratitude journals every day because if you miss a day or two, sometimes it’s hard to go back and remember exactly what you were grateful for that particular day or what events took place. I told Elizabeth that whenever that happened, I felt frustrated that I couldn’t remember and saddened to think of how many days of my life have just floated off into oblivion. I also told her that when that happened, I’d just jot down things like the sun, the moon, the stars, the clouds, and everything else celestial. She said, “That’s a lot, Mom.”

Indeed. That’s a lot, Lib. Thanks for the reminder to be thankful for the beauty of this earth and the sky above.