BOGO!

Patty and I had to make a run to two Payless Shoe Stores for the advertised BOGO. Patty found a cute pair of black shoes for herself and a pair of pink house slippers for her granddaughter, Eden. Unfortunately, I didn't find anything I needed or wanted. Robin had given me shoe money (he knows some of the ways to my heart) so I was anxious to take advantage of BOGO and come home with at least two new pairs.

I didn't think to bring my camera, but Patty did. She, at least, was thinking of my blog. I was so embarrassed when she had me to stand in front of the BOGO sign outside of the store. I, in turn, insisted that I take her picture, too. Then the fun began, in spite of our embarrassment. We began trying on ridiculous looking shoes for the sake of my blog. Yes, we received some curious stares, but we snapped away.

Enjoy as we model some of the latest fashions at Payless. It doesn't take much to make us happy!

Update on Cheryl

Cheryl's husband, Sid, called me a few minutes ago and told me no blockages were found in Cheryl's heart. That's great news! Her heart seems to be fine. However, there is still some reason why she is having problems and further tests may be in the works. It could be that her asthma needs more attention. Your continued prayers are appreciated, and we can praise God that Cheryl's heart is good. But then, I knew that!!!

Celebrating 14 Years of BBs

It was 14 years ago today that God sent Cheryl and I to the grief recovery seminar so that He could fill part of the void in our lives. I won't repeat "Our Story", but I do want to recognize the date and the occasion.

Thank you, Cheryl, for being my anchor. That pretty much sums up all you mean to me. An anchor holds and keeps one rooted. You have been my anchor in good and bad times, through an incredible friendship, as a confidante, as a leader and instructor, and as one who doesn't judge, but accepts me as I am. That in itself, is a major feat. Thank you for listening, for encouraging, for laughing with me, and crying with me. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life and character with me. You have been so instrumental in my growth and stability. And thank you for the touching e-card you sent to celebrate this wonderful day. I greatly cherish your presence in my life.

Now, I'm pleading with my blog sisters to pray for my BB, my anchor, my lifeline. Cheryl will enter the hospital tomorrow for an arteriogram, a procedure to check for damages in her heart. She's been having some problems and her doctor is concerned that they are related to her heart. I can't vouch for her physical heart, but I can assure you that her emotional heart is as pure as gold. I ask that you lift Cheryl in prayer tomorrow as she faces an unknown. Ask that God will comfort her and bring her peace, knowing He is there through it all. Thank you for your prayers.

And thank you, Cheryl, for being the woman you are, and for all you've done for me. I know God will continue to care for the friendship He started 14 years ago today. You remain in my prayers and heart. I love you, BB, SF, FF.

I Got The Message

It took two experiences, but I finally got the message. A local restaurant chain that serves delicious Mexican food has triggered an ulcer war both times I ate there. There's also another popular home-cooking chain that does the same thing to me. It might be the oil they use.

Patty and I indulged in the Mexican food today and I ate a lot. It was my only meal of the day and I was famished. They serve unique individual bowls of chips with salsa. The chips are different than what most restaurants serve in that the shape is smaller, almost like Fritos, and they are crunchy, greasy and delicious. The grease will get me almost every time.

I'd rather omit a restaurant from my list of places to eat because of a dislike for their food or service. I don't want to scratch one off because the food doesn't like me. Knowing how I reacted when Allison took me there once, I swallowed an acid reducer prior to eating. I took two more when I got home, and two more a little later when the pain wouldn't let up. I'm asking God for a cast iron stomach when I get to heaven.

Before the pain really set in, Patty and I went to a quaint little cafe for coffee, apricot tea, and caramel apple pastries. That didn't help me any. When indulging in instant gratification, we usually pay the consequences later.

Note to self: There are two restaurants who serve food that makes your taste buds rejoice! Stay away! The pain isn't worth the fun. It's kinda like having sex and getting pregnant.

Countdown to # 9

Callan John, my 9th grandchild, is scheduled to arrive next Thursday, August 23. Like her pregnancies before, Angela's labs show too must bile acid in her system so labor will be induced. She will see her doctor again on Monday and if there are no changes, the delivery will be set for the 23rd.

Clayton will take off and help Angela the first week or so after they bring Callan home. I will fly there around Labor Day and take over for Clayton as he returns to work. I'm anxious to meet my newest grandson, and spend some quality time with Ashton and Juliet. And, needless to say, I miss my daughter so bad that I can hardly stand it. It will be a wonderful visit, and a hard visit to end.

Ashton and Juliet are looking forward to my funny face pancakes and the cookies I bake for them. Angela has warned me to be prepared to do a lot of math problems with Ashton. I know he will quickly expose my stupidity, but who better to outshine you than a grandson? He will help me brush up on my Algebra, and I'm not kidding. He even creates his own Algebra problems. He may find Memaw a very dull playmate.

Juliet has always had a fear of me. I hope now that she's older and we will spend more time together (not to mention my laser hair removal), that she will warm up to me and let me love all over her. She talks easily on the phone to me, but face to face might be awkward for her at first. I really believe we will become great pals on this trip. I plan to share some of my perfume with her and that should make us instant friends.

I feel really blessed to have nine grandchildren. Each one is so unique and special. Five girls and four boys is as balanced as it gets with an odd number. Thank you, Lord, for Candice, Camryn, Thomas, Jude, Baylee, Sophia, Ashton, Juliet, and precious little Callan.

More Old Friends

It was wonderful to get a call from Jan today. She and I became friends in high school, so we go way back. She called to invite me to lunch, then treated me to baked lasagna at Angelo's. She even stopped and picked up a bag of peanut M&Ms for me. That token of kindness endears her to me even more.

There was so much construction going on that we were taking detours left and right to the restaurant. That gave us the opportunity to relive some of our childhood as we passed by places from our youth and the home Jan's grandmother used to live in. We discussed books, family, and old times. It was such a fun time and a needed diversion for me.

Jan is such an "UP" person that one can't stay down very long in her presence. She always has a smile on her face and a kind word on her lips. She never meets a stranger and loves everyone she meets. And she laughs a lot. Laughter is so good for the soul.

Jan is also a great promoter for Simon Says, Books One and Two. She's told all her friends and family about them - and that includes a lot of people. I've tried to hire her as an agent, but she just retired and assuming another position isn't too appealing, and I don't blame her. Instead, she is dedicated to spreading the word and hoping I will get rich because of it. As you've read before, Jan once typed one of my stories for me in high school. This was before I got my hunt and peck down pat.

She's a wonderful blessing in my life and I love seeing her walk into my office at work. Looking up at her wide smile is always refreshing. Thank you, Jan. You're such a dear friend.

Woe Is Me

Fair warning: I'm sitting on my Pity Potty today and it will take a miracle to get me off. But I believe in miracles and witnessed quite a few in my lifetime. Most concerned my business and it is in dire need of another one.

The machine that was down for two months, then up again at the expense of $22,000, is down again. It over-heated last week and shut down. We let it cool off - for days now - and it still refuses to run. Then, we blew a hose on another machine. Our punching abilities are now at a standstill.

This latest problem has happened at a time when I hadn't even begun the recovery from the previous disaster. Our loss in down time is in the thousands of dollars and we weren't in the position to handle such a blow. None of my options are good.

First of all, I don't believe in bankruptcy. My financial problems should remain mine, and not placed on those who put their trust in me and my company to fulfill an obligation. So this option is no option at all.

I could cash in all investments and sell my house and be able to walk away from Hi-Tech debt free. This isn't a good option either. Where would I live? Where would I work? How would I build up for retirement? I would own nothing and still have a big hospital bill.

The final option is to hang on a little longer and see what happens. Will the time come when utilities are turned off and the doors are locked? Will my employees stand there with their hands out and I have no paycheck to give them? Will the bank take my personal CD, equipment, and receivables and call it even? Will it take off and become profitable again, perhaps even able to pay me back all the money it has taken from me? Will God step in and perform another miracle as He's done the past 14 years that I have been saddled with this company?

I never wanted to be the sole owner of a sheet metal company. But I'm here, coddling it along, hoping to preserve something my husband started and loved being a part of. And to be honest, I love it, too. Many of you know that I refer to it as my baby, my handicapped baby that will always need me. As Chezzy was dying, he told me to make the company take care of me, not me taking care of the company. I've failed in that area. I'm the mother, the nurturer, the one feeding it all my personal money, only to have it come back for more. I'm the caretaker and I'm drained, mentally and physically.

I'm making a great effort to listen to God. Looking back, I see all the ways He has helped me along, proving to me that He hasn't given up on Hi-Tech. Our move to Irving and being able to operate rent-free is definitely a miracle. It enabled us to start catching up. I want to be anxious to see how God will handle this latest setback, but I tend to be more overwhelmed than anxious.

Please keep us in your prayers. I want my mind to be clear enough, free from worry and despair, to heed the direction God is pointing toward. I'm so tired of the fight, yet know that trials come along to cleanse us. I want to live again, not hide in my home. That's where I long to be, safe within those walls that I know so well. I've lost interest in so much that should be important to me.

I'm still on my Pity Potty but venting has been therapeutic. For those of you who are still reading this post, I thank you for your support and prayers.

A Card From The Heart

Robin and I received the sweetest card yesterday from Jude and Baylee. They knew they were coming over here to swim and Jude suggested that they get us a card. I so agree with what Allison told him, that a card without a special occasion attached, is special indeed.

It wasn't our birthdays, or grandparent's Day. It was just a sweet note thanking me for making them good pancakes and Papa for watching Sponge Bob Square Pants with them. What they might not know, is I love making pancakes for them and Papa loves any TV show that is geared for pre-schoolers. The note also thanked us for letting them come over to swim.

I was touched that Jude - being of the male gender - would want to give a card for no other reason than to show his love and appreciation. Those are the best cards of all. None of us are surprised by birthday cards, but that rare card that arrives to thank you for being you is really awesome.

I once told a friend, "Jude is so sweet. It's hard to believe he will grow up someday and make some woman's life miserable." I think I was all wrong about this little guy.

Thank you, Jude and Baylee. I love you both!

Fun In The Sun

We had a wonderful day in the pool. Believe it or not, this was my first time in this summer. The pool water has been too cold for this Memaw! But I braved the 87 degree water to enjoy swimming with three of my grandchildren.

One of the big highlights of the day was watching the progress Jude is making with his swimming under water. Each time he did, his distance increased. We were all so proud of him and he realized he'd made a very good accomplishment too. He even suggested letting him be Baylee's swim instructor. And beside his swimming, he jumped off the diving board a few times too!

Randee and I "pooled" our talents and resources and came up with a very delicious meal for the hungry swimmers. She made this wonderful chicken and eggplant parmesan over spaghetti. It was so good! I provided the salad, French bread, and Italian green beans. Also, I'd baked a chocolate cheesecake, using Randee's famous recipe, and whipped up a batch of strawberry cupcakes for the kids. After feasting on all of that, it was back in the pool for more water fun.

Papa Robin bought a blow-up lizard for the kids to play with in the pool. He also got several pool rockets. They shoot across the pool when thrown, or can be chewed on by Sophia, who had fun splashing in her ladybug pool float. Baylee did her fair share of splashing and laughing today, too. All three of them were happy little fish today.

Now, the pool is still and empty, the kitchen is cleaned, laundry is finished, and so are Memaw and Papa! But the active day was good for us and we enjoyed it so much. Thank you, God, for family!

I stand Corrected

Boy, do I have egg on my face. I get so high and mighty about my ability to memorize how a word looks, and then spell it correctly. My kids have at times asked me how to spell certain words and I am constantly correcting Cheryl for words she messes up so badly that she ends up writing "whatever". And I usually know which form of a word to use when dealing with words that sound alike or closely alike. Words like effect and affect, and advice and advise. I've actually made fun of my best friend for asking me for a receipt for a delicious meal I prepared.

So imagine my shock (and pride) when my daughter, Randee, told me I had used the wrong word in one of my posts. It was the "Spam" post where I said "peaked your interest". I remember sitting there, wondering if I should use peaked or peeked. Never did it enter my mind that the correct word is piqued. I realized my mistake when Randee modestly called it to my attention. Of course it is piqued! Where was my brain when I was writing that piece?

"Imagine me finding one of your mistakes," she told me.

I'm very proud of her for catching that embarrassing absence of brain cells on my part, and I do stand corrected. Way to go, Blondie.

Old Friends

I enjoyed being a part of a wonderful girls' night out last night. What an evening of fun! My sister, Donna, and I had dinner with two of our elementary school friends. We caught up on each other, discussed old times, and did a lot of laughing.

Donna and her friend, Deborah, met in the third grade. They have kept in touch through the years, even if they don't see each other often due to living in different states. We hope to solve that problem very soon.

Patty, as you all know, and I met in sixth grade and are in daily contact with each other. Patty and Deborah hadn't seen each other since we were in our teens, so it was a real treat having us all reunited.

When Patty and I arrived, I told the hostess there would be four of us and I didn't know if the other two had arrived. She asked if they were very funny women, I said yes, she pointed in the direction of a table and there they were! They had already let everyone know they were full of laughter and excitement at being together. We enjoyed our Mexican food, but loved the sharing even more.

We've decided to spend a day with my parents in East Texas since they, too, got close to our childhood friends. I can just imagine the laughter when we add my Mother to the mix! She's the only mother left among us and I'm sure she will love adding two more daughters to the fold.

Thank you Donna, Deborah, and Patty for a splendid evening. I don't know when I've had this much fun. Or laughed so much! You are all precious and I love you so much. Sissy, thanks for treating me to dinner. You are a jewel! A jewel as in diamond!

Happy Birthday, Thomas!

Happy 6th Birthday, Thomas

My first precious grandson,

Our little Thomas boy.

How our hearts burst with love

And our lives filled with joy.

How could anyone resist

Those curly locks of hair,

A soft, pure gold that framed

A face so sweet and fair.

Now those curls are cropped

To fit an older guy,

One who's now in school,

Oh, the years so swift go by.

His eyes are like sapphires,

Such a handsome shade of blue.

He's missing one baby tooth

And soon it will be two.

He's an ace on his bike

And knows how to take a curve,

He loves to go repelling,

Our Thomas has some nerve!

Transformers and Hot Wheels,

And action video games;

Muscle cars and hot rods,

He can tell you all their names.

Nails, snails, puppy dog tails,

Any rough and rowdy toy,

Yet, so loving and affectionate,

That's our Thomas boy.

Happy Birthday, Thomas, from Memaw. I love you.

Spam - Don't You Love It?

It's a good thing my Yahoo! mail account has a bulk folder or I'd spend my life sifting through the debris of mail. I expect to hear from stores I've ordered from online. But there are many others who have entered my mailbox uninvited. I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Have you received the mail from Nigeria that is jam-packed with great news? Either a distant relative or a complete family have died and you are the one to inherit their millions. Or perhaps they just need an American bank to make a transaction and if you help them, you will get a certain percent of the vast amount of money. All you have to do - and this is so simple - is provide your personal account number. Just a few key strokes and you are on Easy Street.

Are there people out there who actually fall for this? It boggles my mind.

The latest invasion, and one that is reported to be a virus, is the announcement that you've received a greeting card. We all like getting mail and a card is the icing on the cake. I've received them in many forms, as you probably have, too. "You have a greeting card from a partner!" "You have a postcard from a classmate." Doesn't that one peak your interest? Makes you wonder if the captain of the football team actually had a crush on you, as you did him, and has mustered up the nerve to contact you.

Other supposed greetings have come from friends, neighbors, a family member, and my personal favorite - a worshipper. Let's pull God in on this joke. Since He has the power to heal, your computer's virus will be short-lived.

Is there an extreme feeling of accomplishment just knowing you have wrecked someone's computer? I don't catch the logic. I deal with enough frustration every day from a perfectly normal computer. I sure don't need a sick one.

Sending a virus must be akin to egging or toiletpapering a house, defacing property, destroying curb-side mailboxes, and all the other mischief that some people find so fascinating. I don't understand the need to destroy, unless it's a fat picture of myself that no one needs to see. Our computers and our phones, our personal property, have become targets. We pay for those items and yet others believe they have the right to peddle their wares or send worms onto our property, using a means that we own.

I guess I should at least be grateful that greetings are being sent my way. For awhile there, I was getting ads for penis enhancements and Viagra. I never realized before that Peggy was a unisex name.

Who Would've Thought?

Yes, that's me with a rake in my hand. Believe it or not, this is not the first time I've used a rake. I used to assume some of the yard work duties when the kids were in school and my husband worked long hours. I discovered that it's much like riding a bicycle - once you've mastered it, the technique stays with you.

Robin was thrilled that I offered to help him while trimming the hedge. Me, not so much. Robin is bossy and in the captain's seat, and I've never been good at taking orders. Especially from an equal, a partner, a husband. While he trimmed, it was my job to rake the loose leaves from the bushes, then rake them all in piles. I also did a little extra and raked up the many pine needles that blanket our yard.

Robin was pleased with my raking ability. But when he added a new responsibility, I failed miserably. He was cutting the hedges to make them even with a certain brick line. That's easy enough until a window or door separates that line and estimating comes into play. He kept telling me I had the wrong brick line. I told him to measure it himself, which he did and finally came out to the same spot I had pointed out. Imagine that.

Then, I was told to go to the street and inspect the bushes from there, making sure they were all symetrical. I announced that he did a magnificent job. I was wrong. His inspection from the street proved that he had made some uneven lines.

"I'm not pleased with it," he said.

"It looks fine," I assured him.

"Stay here and watch as I trim a little more off and tell me what you think."

"It looks fine," I told him.

"It needs to look perfect from the street."

"I don't care how it looks from the street."

"Don't you want it to look good?" he asked.

"I have some major problems at work," I told him. "The shape of the hedges isn't even on my list of important concerns."

He finally pronounced the hedge trimming as presentable and the task was over. Gee, I'm glad we don't work together often.

This past week, Robin taught me - again - how to hang his jeans. He doesn't believe in ironing much of anything and assures me the clothes are fine right out of the dryer if folded properly.

"Take the zipper part and fold in to the first belt loops, then follow the crease to the cuff, shake out any wrinkles, lay it on the bed and smooth it, then fold it. You might have to work with it a little, but they will look fine once on the hanger."

I don't want to work with it a little. I want to be done. And who wears creases in jeans any more?

I remember those distant days when Robin and I were dating. We'd go to dinner, or take a ride on his motorcycle. Then, we went our separate ways and his jeans never ended up in my clothes hamper.

I remember, too, those days of having total responsibility for the yard and pool. I'm grateful that Robin enjoys taking care of those things. He may be bossy and in control, but he's kinda nice to have around.

Hints From Jan

Jan: When I read Hints from Heloise this morning, I thought of you. Here it is:

Heloise Column: "When we became empty-nesters, I found that I was using the same two dinner plates, and they were showing wear. Likewise, linens, towels, sheets, etc., so I started removing from the top and putting away on the bottom. It has saved things from being used so often. Sharon, via e-mail "

Jan: Well, DUH.........I've done that forever, just following instructions from my Mother and Gama.

Jan: Another thing I do......when I get the last of something out of the cabinet or pantry (toothpaste, deodorant, coffee, paper towels, toilet paper, etc.) I write it on my list for my next trip to the grocery store. Then you never run out. Maybe I should re-phrase that "I" never run out. You would think after being married 36 years, I would have Ronnie trained right, but some how he sometimes still runs out of his after shave, electric shave or shop towels!!! Oh well, what is a Honey-Do list for anyway! Ha Ha

Thanks, Jan. I keep a grocery list, too. But I've been known to take the list with me and still forget one of the items on it. Maybe it's an age thing. Or maybe it's because I don't want to dig my reading glasses from the bottom of my purse, and the squinting at the list doesn't always work.

Also, I seldom have to rotate dishes and linens. With just the two of us, the stack of plates dwindles by the time the dishwasher is full. And I wash towels once a week so that stack has dwindled too. I'm always ready for a change in pattern when I put clean sheets on the bed, so those get rotated as well. What I'm actually saying is, I don't make a conscious effort to be Suzie Homemaker. I just follow my own routine.

Fortunately, Robin is a believer in lists. Unfortunately, he tells me to put something on the list. I have to remind him that the list is on the refrigerator and he can add to it as easily as I can. Of course when he does write something, I have to decipher it. Cat food is written as cat "phude" and often there is a suggestive remark on it that I discover on the aisles of the grocery store. I just continue shopping and pretend I never saw it.

The Yellow Guy

It's obvious that I have a thing for Peanut M&Ms and the Yellow Guy. He's so goofy looking that he brings a smile to my face and the candy he represents is my absolute favorite. In case you can't read the size on the bag of M&Ms in the picture, it's the XXL that I bought at Sam's Club. It's 56 ounces of heavenly taste and texture. Don't ask me how long a bag that size lasts in my presence.

Most of my Yellow Guy stuff came from Patty who knows my passion for M&Ms very well. Included in this assortment is a Yellow Guy radio, a phone, several candy containers, a mug and a plush Yellow Guy toy. She also gave me a M&M Halloween ceramic house that lights up. I'd show it too but it's packed away for Spook Day.

While in Vegas visiting the M&M store, Robin bought me the other Yellow Guy plush toy. Also, he gave me the one of Yellow sitting in a recliner. When you raise the handle on his chair, M&Ms drop onto his rug in front of him. Since the rug isn't dusted three times a day, I usually don't keep candy in it.

Randee gave me the M&M car and the large gold M&M. Angela has sent me scrapbooking embellishments from the M&M store in Vegas. Cheryl, Patty, and my kids usually have a good supply of M&Ms for my Christmas stocking. On one birthday, Cheryl used packages of M&Ms as a filler around the gifts she sent to me. I don't remember my age on that particular birthday, but I do know she enclosed the exact number for my age.

Although I love this sinfully delicious candy, I'm not addicted. Not even if I buy the 56 ounce. The fact that I lather my hands with sanitizer when I get in the car after grocery shopping and tear into the bag of candy and chomp away until I get home, is no indication of a serious addiction. It's merely an appreciation for the finer things in life. And I'm not one to indulge in a plain piece of chocolate. If it doesn't have nuts of some kind, it's a waste of calories to me. M&Ms need peanuts and fudge needs pecans or walnuts, and peanut clusters aren't bad either.

Okay, denial is a symptom of dependency. I'll fess up. "Hello, I'm Peggy, and I'm a M&Mholic."

Vanity Lost

Okay, the last post wasn't fair to Robin and Thomas, who had failed to smile. In this picture they are smiling and my eyes are closed. I decided to ignore how I look and print the best picture of my guys. We women need to get over ourselves.

A Date With Thomas

Thomas will turn 6 years old next week so we scheduled our birthday shopping and eating out for after work today. Needless to say, he was bouncing off the walls with excitement. What child doesn't love going to Toys R Us, knowing they get to pick out toys?

I took off from work early and drove him to my house. He played awhile in the toy room/guest room, and on the slot machines. When Robin and I finished our coffee, we all got in the car to begin our shopping spree. Thomas had his heart set on Transformers and I told him I know right where they are. I've taken grandchildren shopping many times before. He picked out three of them (don't ask me what kind) and wanted to carry them himself to the check-out counter. I even gave him the money so he could pay for them.

Thomas is not a shy boy and seldom meets a stranger, so everyone we came in contact with now knows that in six days he will turn six. People at Toy R Us are aware, as are the greeters at Chili's where we ate our birthday dinner, our waitress, and anyone else who happened by.

Thomas ordered macaroni and cheese but was too excited to eat much of it so we carried the rest of it home for him. He didn't want to eat. He wanted to get home and play with his new toys. Even in the picture his Dad took, you can tell he didn't want to waste time with a picture when three new toys were waiting to be ripped from their packages. Thank you to Ron for taking this picture when absent-minded Memaw forgot her camera.

We had fun with our boy, even though we faded into the background when he got home and put his focus on playing. We always enjoy our birthday outings with the grandchildren. We love you, Thomas! Enjoy the Transformers!

Ulcers Are No Fun

When I left work yesterday I had the beginnings of a nice ulcer attack. It eased some as I drove so I went on to the grocery store as planned. Then the pain got worse. Never full blown, but even a little ulcer pain is uncomfortable. Doing payroll and closing out a lousy month in sales is what triggered it. It took four acid reducers during the evening to help me get comfortable enough to fall asleep.

One reason I am mentioning this is because Angela has a similar personality to me, meaning she gets the nervous stomach and uptight when things aren't going well. So, a word of caution to my baby girl: Being strict about meeting self-induced deadlines is not worth the pain. You don't want to end up like this. There are many days ahead to get things done, but only one YOU. Take very good care of my daughter and my grandchildren's mother so we can all have a happy life. Your plate is full right now, but it's temporary, and no one is holding you to a completion date. Take time to smell the roses. I love you, Punkin!

Our New Door Mat

We found the perfect door mat! Ours was so faded that we couldn't read the words "welcome". We were out to dinner tonight and decided to stop in at Bed, Bath & Beyond. We looked at several varieties but kept coming back to this one. As we laughed, we both said, "let's get it!".

When we got home, Robin placed it at the front door and I heard him chuckle as he came back inside. Our friends and family will ignore the words, and know they are welcome. As for the rest of the door-knockers, "Leave".

It reminds me of the door mat Allison has: "We love our vacuum cleaner, we gave at the office,

we believe in God."

Sophie's Choice . . .

. . . was to stay with Memaw tonight while her Mommy went to her Kindred Voices practice. We pulled out the toys and had lots of fun. I fed her the sweet potatoes and lentils that her Mother brought while I ate my spaghetti. She never made a whimper. She's such a good baby.

Sophia looked especially sweet in her hair bow and her hand-me-down threads from cousin Juliet. And she'd get excited when Papa came in the room and spoke to her. I think all kids sense the kid presence in Robin.

Thank you, Sophia, for a wonderful evening and letting me munch on those sweet thighs and cheeks. I love you so much!

Family Reunion

Hot Springs was the perfect setting for the family reunion. We stayed at the Velda Rose hotel and used one of the meeting rooms for our Saturday night gathering. When Robin and I arrived on Friday afternoon, my cousin Lou was waiting outside with her grandson. I jumped from the car and embraced them both.

Lou is my Dad's cousin, but she is only three months older than me. When I spent time in Bonnerdale with my grandparents, Lou and I would play for hours. We lost contact somewhere along the way and I learned she had always worried about me since she knew my grandmother had instructed my grandfather to put me in the cellar for crying. "I cried many times over that, just knowing you were in that dark place with spiders," she told me. "No," I assured her, "I quit crying when he got close to that scary cellar, but was dumb enough to start crying again after we returned to the house." That's when my grandmother would insist that I go into the cellar again, and my crying would stop.

I stayed in her hotel room until well past midnight that first night as we shared with other cousins I'd never met, some of our childhood antics. There was the time we spent the night with Aunt Cle. The back bedroom was scary to both of us, but I was especially afraid of the deer rug on the floor. After all, I was the city girl. Aunt Cle came in the room, jumped up and down on the rug to prove it wasn't alive and wouldn't devour me. Still, I cowered in fear. Her husband finally had to drive me back to my grandparents' home. This story produced much laughter from us that night. Lou was doubled over in laughter at remembering Aunt Cle jumping all over that rug.

Lou and I ate all our meals together and spent every moment with each other except for when Robin and I went to the National Park. She has this marvelous sense of humor and I admire her greatly. She was born with Charcoal Marie Tooth, a crippling malady that has confined her to a wheelchair. But Lou and her chair refuse to be confined. She uses that electric wheelchair much as we do a car to get wherever she wants to go. She planned the reunion, rolling along those almost two miles to downtown Hot Springs, to scout out hotels. On our walk through the town, I was surprised how many people along the way would stop to say hello to her. She knows so many people and is so active. She was presented an engraved clock at the reunion for all her diligent work.

Saturday night festivities were so much fun. We visited with many cousins, mostly distant, and learned much of the history of the Lambert and Ewing families. We had a catered buffet of a variety of sandwiches, dips and chips, and chicken strips. My sister, Donna, baked a cake and I made two kinds of cookies.

Fortunately, over half of my cookies were eaten because when I awoke on Sunday morning, I found the cookies totally infested with ants. And we were on the 7th floor! We had to throw out all the cookies. What a waste of time, energy and ingredients! Especially those expensive pecans. Donna's delicious cake escaped the invasion.

I will end this reunion tale with a funny story about my Dad. He had showered and then let my Mother use the bathroom to get ready. He was still hot from the shower so he stretched out on the bed in the nude to cool off. Suddenly, there was a knock just as the door to his hotel room opened, and there stood the maid. She hadn't given him any response time since she knocked and opened the door at the same time. I told him she will remember seeing him next time, he said "but not my face". I hope he's learned to engage the chain lock from now on.

Hot Springs National Park

These are some of the pictures we took while driving the lovely mountain roads.

Memory Lane

I'll fill you in on the Lambert Family Reunion, but first I want to take a stroll down memory lane. My family visited Arkansas many times during my childhood since my Dad's parents lived there. They owned and operated a gas station and grocery store. The old store is now a flea market, closed both times we stopped by. I've included pictures of the old place where I used to spend summers with my grandparents.

Another site that was thrilling for us kids was the Mazarn Creek. It was the community "swimming pool". The water has since been channeled to other areas so the water is quite shallow where we used to swim. There was a tree that leaned over the creek with wood steps nailed to it for climbing. Once we climbed the tree, there was a long rope just waiting for us to grab and swing out over the water, then dropping into the cool, clear creek. When a lot of us were there for the weekend, we usually had our baths at the creek in preparation for church the next morning. We'd see fish and snakes and old logs near the water's edge and none of it scared us as kids. I didn't even dip my toe in the water on this trip. But there was a mother swimming there with her two young daughters.

Another picture is of me standing in front of the Levi Hospital in Hot Springs where I was born. The name of the hospital was a real eye-opener this trip. St. Joseph's was about a block away from our hotel, now abandoned and waiting to be turned into a retirement home. For some reason, I always thought I was born there. Not that I remember, mind you, but the name stuck in my mind. Maybe it was because my aunt used to work there, but I swore I was born at St. Joseph's. I told my Dad I wanted to walk there and get a picture. That's when the lie I've lived for all these years was exposed. I was actually born at Levi Hospital. I hope I'm not scarred for the remainder of my life!

Dad told me that not only was I born at Levi, but the doctor was Dr. Clue. I'm glad it wasn't Dr. Clueless. At any rate, I found Levi Hospital, stood by the sign, and Robin snapped the picture. It was strange to think that the last time I was there was as a tiny newborn baby girl. I must be getting old for this bit of nostalgia was present.

Robin and I "snuck" away from the cousins for awhile and drove through Hot Springs National Park. It was a beautiful, scenic drive. The pictures with mountains in the background were taken there.

Tomorrow I will add reunion pictures and tell a little something about the event. I won't bore you with news about people you don't know. What a lovely trip and getting home is nice too. Glad I was missed!

Blog Break

I'll be visiting with many cousins this weekend and will not have time to blog. I know it's heartbreaking, but rest assured I will return to this site with many pictures. You won't know any of them and will probably be bored, but it will give me something to do besides get into trouble.

If I see I have a spare moment, I will blog. Otherwise, I will visit with long-lost cousins and lovingly gaze at my laptop.

Have a glorious weekend everyone.

Book #3 In Progress

Sorry, no picture of me sitting at my laptop creating a best seller. Ha! But I am working on chapter 14 of Sacrifice. It's been a slow process. I'm preoccupied with work issues and writing has been a struggle. I see some major editing in the near future.

Sacrifice is the story of Ava Hennessy, a young widow, who marries an older man in order to keep her father out of prison. She believes her father is innocent, but can't prove it. Benjamin Brodie, her boss and the President of Brodie Express, has promised to drop all charges of embezzling if only Ava will marry him and take his lonliness away. She enters into a business-type contract with Benjamin, with the stipulation that she can leave once the debt is paid in full. Benjamin, however, is convinced she will fall in love with him and begin viewing their relationship as a marriage instead of a business arrangement.

Benjamin has three grown children. Clark, the oldest, is bitter and moody. Nathan is happily married and constantly dealing with the restraints of asthma. Felicia is a spoiled Daddy's Girl who is used to getting her own way. Greta, the housekeeper, is a fiesty German lady who has kept the Brodie home together.

Max Raney is Ava's father. He's keeping his administrative leave a secret from his daughter, claiming it's time to retire. Chloe St. James, Ava's best friend and confidante, is the only one who knows the real reason why Ava consented to marry Benjamin. And she's vowed to keep her mouth shut.

Madeliene Raney and Celeste Brodie are deceased, but still making an impact on their families. Officer Luke Hennessy, Ava's beloved husband, was killed by a drunk driver.

Angela will again make the cover for this 3rd book. I've sent her what I have so far so she can get a feel for the story. I don't expect a finished cover any time soon with her move and a new baby scheduled to arrive in a few weeks. But it wouldn't surprise me if the cover is done before the book is!

I spend too much time playing computer games when I should be writing. But times do come around when I feel myself thinking more and more about the book and anxious to write. I just wish those times would come more often. If I don't feel "inspired" to write, nothing good comes from it.

I'm hoping this progress report will find me itching to get back to the laptop and pull up Microsoft Word instead of searching for hidden objects or popping balloons. This may not be an exciting post, but it beats the snake pictures.

Rated R

I made the comment to Cristal that I was out of blog material unless someone came up with another snake story. Be careful what you wish for.

My sister, Donna, was sent this picture of rattlesnakes in the throes of lovemaking. The man who photograghed this illicit act (do rattlesnakes marry?) found the pair of lovers on his property in Wilson, Oklahoma. Apparently he knows a little something about rattlesnakes because he said they are mating.

Of course, snakes have to mate to procreate, but I have a hard time imagining a tender moment with another snake. The picture suggests an almost swan-like union. Really sweet, huh? Prior to mating, I wonder if they bat their beady eyes at each other and enjoy a little forked-tongue action? Maybe they make those cute rattling noises to attract their partner. And no moisturizer for these guys, got to have that scaly look to get those pheromones flowing.

Forgive me for the porn, but I hope it is as good for you as it was for me.

Sneaky Snake

This wretched creature was discovered on my sister's front porch. Fortunately, it was her husband, James, who happened upon it and not Donna. Not that I wish any ill will to James, but perhaps men handle snake discoveries better than women do.

Donna had heard a few taps at the front door, but dismissed it as being one of their pets. Shortly after, she heard James yell and run in a side door. He told Donna there was a large rattlesnake on their porch and needed her help in keeping an eye on it while he got something to kill it with. Ron, a friend of theirs, was working on their property that day, which was a blessing. He managed to get the snake off the porch so James could shoot it.

The rattlesnake measured at 52 inches and had ten buttons on its tail. We believe it was the buttons tapping against the front door that Donna had heard a few minutes earlier.

This is not their first encounter with rattlesnakes. One killed their beloved dog a few years back. They have also seen them in the garage and other areas around the house. They own many acres in Madill, Oklahoma, where their home is located. Rattlesnakes have always been a problem, and one that concerns me every summer, knowing my Sissy is so close to them.

This latest visitor convinced them to put a for sale sign in their front yard. My advice to them is to keep quiet about the snake infestation, unless some weirdo comes along who enjoys rattlesnake hunting. In that case, they have the perfect selling feature.

I'm so thankful James and Donna were protected from this horrible menace. Those things are nasty! And not just nasty, but extremely deadly. Keep your eyes on the ground, you two!

Tony and Chezzy

Our Story - Part Ten

A special time for Cheryl and me was seeing parts of "our story" in print about thirteen years ago. A Dallas newspaper was soliciting friendship stories for a special upcoming article. I immediately wrote about our friendship. When the article arrived, Cheryl saw it first. "They printed our story!" she exclaimed over the phone. "Our friendship is in the paper!" I grabbed my newspaper and turned to the Living section. We weren't the featured friends, but they had printed several paragraphs about us from my submission. Cheryl kept a clipping of it in her wallet for many years. It may still be there.

When Cheryl married Sid, she became the mother of his two small boys. Those boys are now teenagers. Through the years she has helped with homework, attended school programs, gave them a place to call home, and most of all, she loved them. I've never seen a "step-mom" so involved and I admire her for it. Her sons have a special place in their hearts for her, too.

One of the greatest things Cheryl has done for me is making a lifelong dream come true. I've always enjoyed writing and finally decided to write a novel. Cheryl's mother, Evelyn Wilson, wanted to read it as I wrote. As I finished a binder - 8 of them in all - I'd pack it up and send it to Michigan. Mom Wilson and her comments filled me with confidence. She began seeking ways to have the book published. She made some inquiries with a friend who had some publishing experience. We never took it any further, mainly because the amount of editing that would have to be done overwhelmed me. Mom Wilson died in 2004, and I have kept all the sweet notes she enclosed with my binders when she returned them.

In 2006, I realized I had the incentive to edit and a burning desire to have my book published. What I didn't have were resources. It was going to take years for my company to recover from a bad time in the economy, and I had to really watch the money. Cheryl insisted that I follow through on the editing and she would take care of the rest. My evenings were spent reading the almost 1400-page manuscript, and making the needed changes. Angela, the family artist, agreed to do my book cover. As it turned out, my novel was too long for one book and it ended up in two. This was another expense for Cheryl, but she wanted to see my dream come true. Simon Says, Books One and Two, went to print. I received my first copy in August. I can't describe the joy of holding my own book! Book two arrived the next month in September, just two days before I ended up in the hospital with surgery.

Cheryl was so instrumental in the publication of my books, and her excitement matched my own. Not only did she want to do this for her friend, but we both felt such a strong satisfaction that we had completed something Mom Wilson had wanted done. How thrilled she would be to hold these printed copies in her hands! And, the thrill for me continues. I'm still in awe of the two books and I think of Cheryl and Angela every time I see them. Other than the three magnificent children I bore, this novel is one of the most rewarding accomplishments of my life.

As "Our Story" comes to an end on my blog, I am blessed that it continues in our lives. There will be new experiences, new stories, new discoveries as the friendship continues. Cheryl and I have wondered what it would have been like had we met years earlier, when our husbands were alive. Would our two Polish men enjoy the same kind of friendship we have? Would our own friendship be as strong without the losses that pulled us together?

I believe it would have been. God used our grief to introduce friends for life. Had it been a shallow relationship, it would have ended once healing was accomplished and our need for each other was over. It takes more than a shared loss to keep a friendship alive and growing. It involves the elements of mutual interests, trust, a certain kind of chemistry, and characters in unison. I don't know what all is involved to make a friendship work as well as this one does. Maybe something just clicks.

I've heard it said that all of us have a twin somewhere in the world. Maybe Cheryl and I don't look like identical twins, but we're certainly on the same wave length. She grew up in Michigan, I grew up in Texas, and yet so much of our lives are identical. There's only one way for two people who have so much in common, to meet and feel the immediate bonds of friendship. It was heaven sent.

I love you, BB. Thank you for your big part in this incredible friendship.

A final poem in loving memory of Chezzy and Tony:

What I'd Give

What I'd give to see your face,

To know again your sweet embrace.

And savor the thrill of your gentle touch,

To have the one I miss so much.

What I'd give to hear your voice,

If only I could make that choice.

If you simply spoke one little word

It'd be the sweetest I ever heard.

What I'd give to see your smile,

The last one's been the longest while.

So many of them were just for me,

Oh, how happy we used to be!

What I'd give to feel your hug,

Your arms around me warm and snug.

And taste the sweetness of your kiss,

These things I know I'll always miss.

What I'd give to see your eyes

Sparkling like the starry skies.

To have you once again to care,

Our love forever we would share.

What I'd give to change the past

And let our time together last.

To have you back with me to live,

My Darling, my all, is what I'd give.

Rest in peace, our Polish Princes, until we meet again.