Happy Birthday Week, Day 2: What Do You See in the Couds?

Tonight I celebrate my mother by appreciating how she taught me to see in things what isn't always obvious.

I'll start off by telling how she and I would look into the clouds; she'd look in one direction and I in the other. Then we'd tell each other what we saw. When I was very young, she'd spread a bed sheet out onto my dad's perfectly groomed yard and we'd lay there watching the clouds form animals, faces and more. Two days before she passed away, we sat in the family room, facing out towards the backyard and gazed at the clouds. When I asked her what she saw, she said, "I see myself feeling better." (I hadn't thought about that until now.)

As you know, Mother was my Girl Scout leader for many years, so she also had the ability to take ordinary, everyday items and turn them into useful or decorative items. For instance (and I sure wish I had a photo of it), in the late 1950s early 1960s, she made a beautiful Christmas tree centerpiece using only Styrofoam balls, toothpicks and spray snow. She poked hundreds (more likely thousands) of toothpicks into I don't even know how many Styrofoam balls, sprayed them with snow, stacked them on top of each other like a pyramid, hung tiny little glass ornaments on it, and put it in the center of our dining room table. I remember it being so stunning. After Christmas she'd wrap the spiny balls in plastic and box it up for the next year.

My husband and I took our baby girl Ginger to the doggie beach yesterday, where she romped and played and I wished I had her energy. It's so much fun to watch the dogs all running, playing and getting along. Oh how I wish everyone could live by that example, don't you? Anyway, the shells were scattered here and there along the beach, so I thought I'd gather some and use them to frame a photo my husband had taken of our baby girl. (In know, I know, it's been done before. But I first did it back in the days of yore when I was a Brownie. Back then, we had to use Elmer's glue and hold things in place until the glue almost dried.)

There usually aren't many shells at this location, but the tide was way, way out

and that uncovered a bunch of shells. I was picky, wanting only certain kinds to go with the crab claws.

I just hot-glued some sea shells, crab claws and raffia around some corners of an old frame. Yeppers, I said crab claws. They were all over the beach, so I grabbed a few. See, what I'm saying? Mother taught me that. Mother taught me to use what I could pick up off the ground.

Here's the finished frame. My honey's going to love a pic of his baby girl. (It'll probably replace one of me, since space in his shop is so limited. ha ha)

Why a photo of our dog?  Mom always loved my Sheltie Prince Sam, but he became ill the day she passed away and we soon lost him. She would have enjoyed Ginger, but she's much more energetic than Sam ever was.

Mother taught me to see the beauty and usefulness in all things. I guess that's why I have such a hard time throwing things out.

“Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.”
― Confucius

 

 

 

Thank you, Mom, for all of my gifts. Happy birthday week!

Happy Birthday Week, Day 1: Merry, Merry Take a Cherry

In recognition of what would be Mother's 97th birthday, I'm going to celebrate this entire week by honoring the gifts and talents she passed on to me.

She began teaching me how to cook when I was in her Brownie Troop 612. So, tonight I'm baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies -- but this isn't entirely her recipe. I've tweaked it just a tad to make the cookies a little thicker than hers used to come out. And - have you seen the new Nestle Toll House Delightfulls chips? I accidentally came upon them, not at the grocery store, but at one of my favorite bargain stores - Big Lots. They had four flavors, and the one I'm using tonight is their dark chocolate morsels with cherry filling.

Mom loved chocolate covered cherries, and Santa put a box of them in her stocking every year that I can remember. But here's what set my mom apart from all other moms: I like chocolate covered cherries, too, but not the cherry. I'd let the chocolate melt in my mouth, then I'd suck away the cherry syrup, then -- I'd spit out the cherry. But it wouldn't go to waste. In fact, nothing ever went to waste in our home. What would become of that cherry? Mother would eat it. She would take it right from my fingers and into her mouth. She did that my whole life. Would your mother do that?

Chocolate Chip Cookies
What you'll need:

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour          3/4 cup sugar          12-oz. of chocolate chips
1 tsp. baking soda                         3/4 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 tsp. salt                                       1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup softened butter                     2 eggs
1/2 cup 1-minute oat meal flakes

Set your oven to 350-degrees and grease a cookie sheet.
This recipe makes about three dozen 4-inch round cookies.

Combine the dry ingredients - flour, baking soda, salt and oat meal - in a small bowl. (Notice, there is a 1/4 cup more flour in my recipe than in others, and note the addition of oat meal. These two ingredients help make the cookies just a little thicker, but you don't taste the oat meal in the finished cookies.)
Beat the butter, both sugars and vanilla in a large mixer bowl until creamy. Then add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.
Gradually beat in the flour mixture.

Okay, can I just say that we could stop right here and I'd be happy. This bowl of cookie dough could be my dinner. Is that wrong?

When combined, add the chocolate chips. The new Delightfulls only come in 9-ounce bags, so that's what I used. (Truth be told: You may have noticed that the bag of chocolate chips was already open. I couldn't help myself. Mom never would have done that; she always exercised complete self-control. I get my sweet tooth from my dad, who always wanted to start dinner with desert.)

Of course, you can add 1 cup of chopped nuts, if you'd like. Mother couldn't eat them, so I never added them, and didn't tonight.

Mom always, always let us lick the mixing beaters.

Nothing's changed there. Yummy!

Using an ice cream scoop, put balls of cookie dough onto your prepared cookie sheet. My baking sheet is a 21-year old, well seasoned, Pampered Chef stone. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Bake the cookies at 350-degrees for about 15-minutes. Keep and eye on them, because you want them to be light in color.

To begin our week of celebrating my mother, Julia Ethel (Steele) Jackson, we'll be having Cherry Chocolate Chip Cookies for desert (and maybe a scoop of ice cream, too.)

“When I sound the fairy call, gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall, cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry, take a cherry, mine are sounder, mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter for the eater, when the dews fall, and you'll be fairies all.” ― Emily Dickinson

Happy birthday week, Ma!

Looking for Balance

I'm in one of those phases when my life feels enough out of control and order that I wish I could take a month off of work (paid, of course) and get everything tidied up with a sweet little pink bow keeping it all together; everything nice, neat and perfect.

Dream on, right?

I'm the first to admit that I "get like this" every so often, but usually it's because I've over-extended myself so much that I don't see any light at the end of the tunnel. When I was still the editor of a social magazine, I was constantly on the go, day, night and weekends, and rarely found time for myself. I don't have that excuse this time. Sure, I'm busy at work. Who isn't? And, yes, the pressure to raise hundreds of thousands of dollars can be distressing at times.

I "get like this" when I have too much on my plate and it becomes difficult to separate the items. I "get like this" when my head is telling me one thing and my heart is telling me another. I "get like this" when I'm overwhelmed with grief, brought on this time by a visit to my friend, whose mother bears the same name as mine - whose mother is unsteady on her feet as was mine, whose mother was wearing the same shirt that evening as my mother owned and often wore, whose mother lives with my friend just as my mother lived with me. (Need I go on?) I was there to help my friends make plans for their wedding, but I was so overcome with grief that I'm not too sure how helpful I was. I do know that my friends were so completely understanding as I wept off and on for three-hours.

That was the catalyst for this emotional turmoil; feeling out of balance. Weighing heavy on my heart and mind these days is the need to organize what's left of my parents' belongings and, frankly, the rest of my house. I know, I've written in the past that I had given my siblings photos and other items, but I still have things that need to be divided. (My fear of letting go of their things is overwhelming in and of itself. If I give those things to my siblings, will my parents "be gone?" Does keeping those things to  myself assure their presence, always and forever?) And I have closets that have things in them that haven't seen the light of day for years. So, in my mind, if I could just get all of that "in order," then everything else would fall into place; the skies would be blue, the birds would be chirping and I'd be singing in the shower.

The funny thing is, if I was granted that wish to have a month to myself, I'd most likely nap it away or start a project that has nothing at all to do with organizing my life. Just today I got home about an hour early and, instead of tackling the immediate need to clean off the shelves in what used to be my mother's living room, I literally napped on the sofa with my Baby Girl Ginger. When I awoke, I felt so good, since I didn't get any sleep last night. But it also felt so wrong, since projects are waiting. (I can't redecorate that room, put on a fresh coat of paint, bring in a twin day-bed, add the touches of a patchwork bedspread, etc. until everything in there now is removed.)

Clearly, many of us are looking for that elusive "balance" in our lives. I go to bed feeling guilty if I haven't been productive the majority of the day. As I've said many times, I'm like a dog seeing a squirrel - easily distracted. I know it's the choices I make; choices to walk away from the things that need to be done, that might take several days to complete, and replace them with things that are more fun and easily accomplished. And, yes, then I fret that I haven't been productive enough.

I know I'm not alone. Maybe we just can't win.

In any event, I do know that I'd much rather have too much going on in my life than too little ("The more things you do, the more you CAN do." - Lucille Ball), and if that means things are a little out of balance once in a while (or maybe even most of the time), then so be it. I guess I can live with that.

I did, finally, finish redecorating what used to be Mother's bedroom. I know she'd love it, but I'm the one who really enjoys going in there and looking at all the old photos hanging above the bed. I took the time to go through our box of old pics and framed shots of my husband's grandparents and parents and my grandparents and parents. Then I re-purposed a yellow jacket of my mother's, making it a throw-pillow for the bed (I knew I had been holding on to it for a reason.) Back in the corner, placed in the yellow chair, is a pillow made from one of my dad's shirts. This room comforts me, but it also excites me as my sister, brother, cousins and I take our journey into our ancestry. And, because of their commitment to research, I'm able to identify folks in these old family photos.

Not For the Faint of Heart

I'm no artist, but I do love learning new art-forms and new crafting techniques. So, when I saw a photo of a new twist on an American flag, I knew I wanted to make one. (It's that time of year.) I looked online for instructions, but all I could find was an artist on etsy.com selling kits to make them for $220 and a blogger through pinterest.com that had photos of many different flags. Since paying $220 wasn't an option, I studied the photo until I "got it."
Usually the crafts I write about are fast and easy to make; many times for the whole family to work on together. This project is none of the above. It is not for the newbie, not for the faint of heart. It's not that it's hard to do, it's just that it will take time and patience and you'll have to figure most of it out for yourself. But in the end, it will be well worth the effort (and money), because this is the cutest flag -- EVER!

What you'll need:
*  navy blue fabric -- it can have stars on it, or you can paint some on, or you can sew buttons on as stars, or whatever you decide is best for you
*  lots and lots of red and white ribbons and fabric strips -- I used lace, ribbon, yards of pom poms, strips of fabric scraps, and you can also use strands of beads and more
*  a dowel
*  cording

From this point, everything you do is dependent upon how you want your flag to look; how wide you want it and how long you want it to hang. I don't have measurements for anything. I just guessed as I went along with my project. I already had the fabric scraps and a lot of red and white ribbon, but I wanted to include lace and pom poms, so I had to buy them.

After deciding how big I wanted the blue starred fabric to be, I laid the whole project out, cutting and layering the ribbons and lace until I was satisfied.

It's easy to already see why I fell in love with this, isn't it?
Then I began sewing the shorter strips of ribbon and fabric to the navy fabric.
After that, I sewed the navy fabric to a strip of binding I made from a scrap of white fabric.

Then I began sewing on all the other longer pieces of ribbon, lace and fabric strips.
I sewed down the binding, put a dowel through the casing, attached the pretty cord for hanging and called it a day.

Isn't it really cute? Even my husband remarked about how nice this is. He wants to hang it in his shop!
In full disclosure, it took me four nights (after dinner and dishes) to complete it. It tested both my patience and my math skills, and I likely wouldn't do it, again.


Since leaving the comfort of a job I had for 16-years and taking on a whole new career, which is still very new to me, I've been kind of stretching my limits in new-to-me ways. Everything was on auto-pilot where I worked prior to becoming the development director for a non-profit medical and dental clinic for those in need.

I'm learning more than I ever imagined I would, especially at my age. From the intricacies of  today's healthcare system to the dirtiness of local, state and federal politics, my brain is taxed. From the pressure of raising funds to support this free clinic to the distress of trying to save the jobs of those I've grown to appreciate, my heart aches.

Don't think for a minute there aren't days when I'm ready to concede and let "them" win.
Luckily, those days are few, thanks to the energy fueled by the sudden desire to learn and become an expert in my field, which is not at all for the faint of heart.

A question on an application for membership into the Association of Fundraising Professionals asked, "What do you expect to get from this organization?"
My response included being provided with the tools I need to help me succeed, but I also said that I want to be the best at what I do; rivaled by others in the field.

I've never felt that way, but it's true today.

Well, that's all for tonight. I do hope you'll try making the flag. You'll see lots of examples of it on Pinterest.com


Love you, Mom

Celebrate Summer with a Bouquet of Brightly Colored Tissue Flowers

When I was in grade school, the go-to "art project" around Mother's Day was always tissue carnations. Led by our art teacher, we'd take one Kleenex tissue and fold it back and forth like a fan. Then we'd get a green pipe cleaner and wire it around the middle of the folded tissue. Once it was tight, we'd start pulling open the plys of the tissue -- then our teacher would come around and spritz them with her perfume.
I can't even remember how many of those tissue carnations were given to Mom from me and my sister, but she enjoyed everyone of them.

Today, tissue pom-poms are trending at bridal and baby showers, wedding receptions and birthday parties. You see them all over Pinterest and Facebook. My niece had them hanging at her wedding, and thanks to that, I have a huge supply of tissue paper.

So, I decided to whip up some tissue flowers (half of a pom-pom) and make a brightly colored bouquet to set on the dining room table during the summer months. Now that Studio Sydney is all cleaned up, I can actually see what I have and where it all is. This is a fun and easy project to do with your children, grandchildren or the whole family.

What you need:

I had a pretty little bowl that looks like a watermelon, but the finished flowers can also go into a vase. You'll need tissue paper (not Kleenex, but the kind of tissue paper you use inside boxes when wrapping gifts) in any colors you choose, wire wrappers (like the kind used to tie up bread), skewers (or pipe cleaners) and scissors.

How it's done:

Step 1 -- Cutting the tissue
Each of my flowers is 8 layers thick and is 6.5 inches wide by 7.5 inches long. You can make yours whatever size you prefer. The larger the paper, the bigger the bloom. Remember that larger blooms will require more layers of tissue paper.

Step 2 -- Folding the paper
Starting at one of the 6.5 inch ends, begin folding the paper back and forth, like a fan or an accordion. Fold at 3/4 of an inch and it will come out even at the end.

Step 3 -- Attaching the wire
Attach the wire in the middle of the folded tissue and then round the ends cutting in a curve.

Step 4 -- Attaching the skewer
The skewer is attached simply by wrapping the ends of the wire around the top of the skewer. I used skewers, because I wanted the length, but you can also skip the skewers and wrap a pipe cleaner around the middle of the accordion.

Step 5 -- Unfolding the tissue paper
Very, very gently begin pulling the tissue layers apart from one another. Do all of the layers on one side, then repeat on the other side. The tissue paper is very thin, so be careful not to tear it, but don't have a heart attack if you do tear them; it's bound to happen. You can usually hide them.

Step 6 -- Fluffing out the bloom
Now make them all come to life by fluffing out the blooms and place in your container of choice.

See how easy they are? If everyone in the family makes one, you'll have a full bouquet in about 15-minutes.

 

 

I'm going to get the rest of my summer decorations down from the attic in a few days, but these are going on the dining room table tonight. I hope if you make them, you'll tell me about it. Enjoy!

 

 

Love you, Mom.

Studio Sydney - My Place for Re-nourishment

Is there someplace special you go - a physical location - to feel the presence of another person?
Like the presence of a loved one passed? Or the comfort of someone who's miles away from you?
Is it a particular chair? A room? Your church? The beach? A mountain top?
Is it a place where you find peace and tranquility?

I'm not at all embarrassed to admit that sometimes I need to chat with my parents. I'm sure all of you have experienced that same desire; to reach out to someone gone from this earth. Where I go to connect to my father and mother are two very different places, but at both locations I find peace.

Even though my parents are buried side-by-side, I only feel my father during my monthly visits to take new flowers to their graveside. That is where I'm able to talk to him and know that he's listening and ready to give advise (He was always ready to give advice. Dad had an answer for every question.) Maybe it's because he never stepped foot in this beautiful house in which we now live that I don't feel his presence in my home. Who knows? I just know that standing over his graveside is a place of peace for me.
Mother, on the other hand, is with me here. She's in every part of the house, but in particular still in what used to be her bedroom. Everything has been redecorated with new paint and new furniture, the clothes that were in her closet have been replaced with my cocktail dresses, and her double bed has been replaced with a queen for guests - yet she's still there. She's not at the cemetery; hers is an empty hole. So, it's to her bedroom where I go to talk about things that my husband tires of hearing, find solace and re-ground myself; my place of peace.

I also find comfort in my "Studio Sydney." It's not the kind of place to go for tranquility, because right now it's an explosive mess. But it's definitely my place of re-nourishment. I believe everyone should have a place to go to fuel their creative juices. Even if you think you aren't creative, I promise, you are.

I really shouldn't be admitting this online for the world (okay my close friends) to see, but this is what my studio looks like right now. (It's was actually worse that this picture shows.)

What a freaking mess.

Feeling energetic and ready to take on a new project (because the ba-zillion unfinished projects aren't enough), I walked into Studio Sydney this morning and realized why I haven't felt connected lately. Look at this mess! How can anyone think straight in this?
I've been neglectful (no kidding) in putting things away as I use them, and all too ready to start something new (can you say, "Squirrel!?"), when I haven't even finished what I was already working on. (I know. I've written about this problem I have in a previous post.) It looked like an atom bomb exploded in the northeast corner of my house.
It was time to re-organize and clean up, which is what then lead to the distraction of writing this blog (another squirrel).

I got to thinking about the emotions that are invoked when I am in certain places; how even the different rooms of my own home lead me to different feelings and discoveries within. For example, my small formal living room is a great place to crack open a book and sit and read; silence. My kitchen is definitely a place of electricity; I love to experiment, create and bake. Being in our camper/trailer sparks an excitement that takes me back to when I was a young Girl Scout; camping under the stars, telling ghosts stories, cooking on the underside of a giant tin can, and checking off requirements for badges. Bicycle riding equates to freedom.

I could go on and on.
The words at the top of the all in my craft room say it all.

But how about you?
What is your place of solace, peace, re-nourishment, re-birth?

Now that Studio Sydney is cleaned up and re-organized, I can concentrate on some of those unfinished projects, that I'll be sharing with you here on my blog. If you look closely, you can see them lined up on the desk.

 

Love and miss you Mom and Dad.

I Touched a Mexican Wrestler

Ha, ha.
I knew that would get your attention.
I did fist bump with a man dressed as a Mexican wrestler while in San Antonio, but that really doesn't have anything to do with this post, which is all about family.

After all the waiting, anticipating and planning, the Stith-Sheets-Steele Cousin Union has come and gone. The next time we get together, it will officially be a re-union.

Although not everyone who said they'd be making the pilgrimage actually made it, and although some just couldn't make it this time, I know I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I'm very thankful for the opportunity to have spent that week with my brother, sister, cousins and families. In particular, my brother, sister and I are closer than ever.

Our parents were siblings, born between 1904 and 1920, and raised in Southern Illinois. Their father (my grandfather) died in 1928, leaving their mother (my grandmother) with six children to feed, clothe, educate and raise as upstanding citizens. She did an incredible job, as all six of them grew into adulthood with good family values, impeccable work ethics, respect for others and a love for the Almighty.

When they were all grown and married, they grew apart physically; living in California, New Mexico, Illinois and Florida. But their love and support for one another never, ever wavered. The brothers lived in California and New Mexico and saw each other often. The sisters lived in Illinois and Florida and saw each other every summer. And when it came to their brothers, they were in lock-step to defend them.

It's that closeness that also confuses us.
They held a reunion in 1971 in New Mexico and then again in 1978 in Southern Illinois, but as far as any of us can recall, those are the only two times they were together after moving from Southern Illinois.
Why didn't they all get together more often?

We surmise it's simply a matter of logistics. "Back then" (or as my husband and I like to say, "Back in the days of yore"), air travel was quite costly and mainly limited to the elite, it was definitely too far to drive, and long distance phone calls were exorbitant. Plus they were all busy raising their own families. That left letter writing.

It doesn't explain why one of the cousins didn't know anything at all about the aunts or their children. And that's one of many questions that will remain unanswered, as our windows to our pasts have closed.

I thought there would be a lot of time spent reminiscing and chatting about our parents. I thought I needed that. But, instead, we spent time together - getting to know each other, showing photos of our families and talking about our children and grandchildren. It turns out, that's what I needed.

I didn't need to hear others telling stories about Daddy and Mom in order to feel closer to them; I needed to get to know my extended family.

One of us was worried that we'd sit around like old people and just talk. Well, that didn't happen. We strolled the River Walk, dined at restaurants, hiked caverns, drove through a safari, visited a local winery and more.

 

 

One cousin had family T-shirts made for each of us, one gave everyone a copy of an extensive history of the ancestry, one gave each of us a copy of the family crest, and one gave everyone a copy of a family tree drawn by an artist friend. It was a lot to take in.

 

On our final night together, we lit Japanese lanterns and released them into the night sky in memory or our family members who have passed.
Moving.
It was beautiful.

All in all, it was a great week, with laughter filling the spaces. Plans are now underway for us to do it all, again - in two years. We'll be heading to California, so those of you reading this who are part of the Stith/Sheets/Steele ancestry, keep an eye out for details.



I love you, Mom and Dad. I don't even need to say that I wish you had been there, because I know you were.

Excited by the Anticipation

In only a matter of weeks, I'll be meeting some of my cousins for the first time, and I can't even begin to explain how exciting this is. For the past year I've had the privilege of getting to know one of my cousins whom my husband and I visited in November, and recently I've been getting to know others - thanks to Facebook.

Some of the cousins, back in the days of yore, with Gramma.

Actually it's Facebook and Ancestry.com that have brought us together. Social media, used for the common good, is a great thing.

My older sister has been researching some of our family's history - on our mother's side. (Dad's is next.) I've been compiling her found statistics for a family tree. And even my brother has gotten in on the fun of learning about our past, by contacting genealogists in Southern Illinois.. (Thank goodness we haven't uncovered any serial killers.) With very click of the mouse, with every keystroke entered and with every response, I feel closer than ever to Mother, Grandmother, Great-Grandmother and Great-Great-Grandmother.

My mother's parents

In her excitement, my sister reminded me, "Do you realize that Abraham Lincoln wasn't even president, yet?"

It's amazing to learn how our ancestors made a living, how many times they were married and how many children they had. I sometimes sit and fantasize about their lives and how they survived without the comforts of electricity, air-conditioning, fast transportation, modern washing machines, telephones and more.

But I also think about how simple - how local - everything was. There was no such thing as a global economy. Supporting local businesses meant local families could pay their local bills and have local food on the table. It meant everyone in the "hood" took care of each other, without any worry of a lawsuit. It was a time when everyone was accountable for his or her own actions or lack of action and took responsibility for their behavior.

I remember stories my dad told about his childhood and how he would leave the house in the morning and fill his day with friends, swimming, etc., and not come home until dinner. It was safe; life was safe.

I'm thrilled at this opportunity to meet new-to-me cousins. I wish more could join us, but perhaps they'll see our photos on Facebook in a few weeks and decide, "I'd better be there next time." For sure, we'll be posting, tweeting and selfie-ing the whole time we're together.

Oh, Mother, how I wish you were here to see this. You'd be thrilled.
I love and miss you, both.

Listen to What Your Body is Trying to Tell You, Then Share it With Your Doctors

Hearing update -- still can't hear, but doctor says I need tubes. Yes, like children have to get. So that's coming up next week.
Coughing update -- tried Vicks Vapor Rub on the bottom of my feet with thick white socks and it seems to have worked. Who knew?

I have a St. Patrick's Day wreath to share with you, but I think I'll wait another day.
Today I must take this opportunity to write about something that's usually not discussed or shared with others...
Please read it through to the end.

In mid-December, I fell into the deepest, darkest depression anyone can imagine. I simply chalked it up to it being the holiday season and missing my mother, and I pushed it back. Who has time for that nonsense?
At the same time, I noticed sores inside my mouth; blisters and a roughness all along the inside of my whole mouth. Some of my little taste buds were swollen. I simply chalked that up to eating all the wrong foods over the holidays and just figured it would go away on its own once I started eating more protein and less junk food.
I also noticed that my neck was slightly swollen, and I chalked that up to possible thyroid changes, making a note to see my doctor after the holidays.

Well, the holidays came and went, and by mid-January the depression was over-whelming -- to the point where I turned away friends, withdrew my involvement in outside activities and just tried to drop off the face of the earth. I was too embarrassed to face anyone, yet I also didn't care who I hurt. Other than to go to work, I really didn't leave the house much at all. The swelling in my neck had also worsened, and the sores in my mouth were larger, but because of my depression, I ignored it all.

At the end of January, I had a standing appointment with my cardiologist. When he asked how I was doing, I said I was fine. He's not a psychologist, right? He's not a dentist, right? He's not my endocrinologist, right? So why tell him all those things that were "wrong" with me? He's just going to refer me to a psychologist, the dentist and the thyroid doctor. I don't need him to tell me that. Ten-minutes later, I was out the door and on my way back to work.

My mouth got worse and worse. I finally made an appointment to see my dentist, and when he saw my mouth, he was very concerned. He thought it could possibly be a type of yeast infection called candida, but he began asking me questions: Have you been on any antibiotics? "No." Are you taking any new medications? "Well, yes. I've been taking a new-to-me blood pressure medication since early December."
He then asked if I knew what it was and because I was in a do-not-care mood, the only thing I could think of was that it began with an A. He got my cardiologist on the phone to see what it was and then my dentist -- yes, my dentist, began looking up the side effects of amlodipine.

Remember -- every one of us is completely different. How one person reacts to a medication might be very different from how another reacts. And the majority of us don't react at all. This is not a warning about the use of amlodipine -- it is, however, a warning about knowing your body, listening to it and telling each of your doctors (because none of us has just one doctor anymore)  EVERYTHING!!

My dentist discovered that I was the rare person to have nearly every side effect of amlodipine. The sores in my mouth, the swollen glands in my neck and even the depression could all be rare side effects of this blood-pressure medication.

I immediately called my cardiologist who changed my prescription. I didn't want to begin taking anything new until I began to feel better -- which I'm happy to say is finally here. (Okay, not including the bronchitis)

It took six-weeks to begin to feel the difference.
I'm no longer in that horrendously dark place of aloneness and despair. My mouth has healed and the swelling in my neck, which got worse before it got better, is gone.

Lesson learned -- I will tell every doctor I see about every little thing that is going on with me from now on. I will never again assume that I can be the one to decide what's important to talk over with my doctor and what isn't. They are going to hear it all, and they can decide what's theirs to fix and what should be referred to another.

Thank you Dr. Gehrig!

Wish you had been here to take care of me, Mom.

Therapy Session -- Stepping into the Life of my Mother

Imagine not being able to hear your child cry out in need.
Or hear the birds chirping each morning as your feet feel the warm rug beneath them.
Imagine being in a room of 100 people and all you can hear is the low mumble of the conference speaker.

My mother was deaf. She lost her hearing while in her early 40s, and although she had surgery to correct the problem,  the procedure wasn't successful, forcing her to wear two hearing aids for the rest of her life.

I feel as though I entered into her world this week, as the remnants of my bronchitis have left me with some kind of ear infection - leaving me without any hearing at all in my right ear and very little in my left. Of course, the difference is that once I get in to see my doctor the day after tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be fine.

How ironic, though, that today as I embark on Part 3 of my at-home therapy sessions, I am thrust into her world of silence. Today, I begin the task of going through Mother's box of old family photos.

 

My intention has always been to share them with my siblings; I just needed to find the right time (whatever that means). 

 

I've donated my mother's clothing to charity, removed what used to be her bedroom furniture, painted the room and redecorated, and now it's okay to remember my parent's past and the stories they told by going through these old photos, news clippings and Christmas cards.

 

It's actually caused a bit of a domino effect. I've called my older sister and brother to ask questions about certain things I see in the pictures, and because we're planning a Cousin Union in April, even more questions are being asked. My sister has joined Ancestry.com and has begun some very interesting research. I'm sure she'll uncover the timeline of our lives, our parents', grandparents' and great-grandparents'.

 

Here's a photo my sister located through Ancestry.com -- my mother's parents are the two to the far right. Our grandfather, a lineman for the power company, died in his early 40s after being electrocuted during a line repair. My mother was only 10-12 years old. My grandmother died on my third birthday while she and I were playing Tea Party. None of us have ever seen this photo.

 

Like I feel as though I stepped into my mother's life today, I'm hoping my sister gathers enough information for us to step into the lives of our ancestors, if only for a moment.

I love and miss you, Mom and Dad.

The Mystique of the Gazing Ball, or, Why I Shouldn't Drop my Bowling Ball on a Mean Girl's Head

Have you ever just wanted to drop a bowling ball on someone's head?

I know how terrible that sounds, and, of course, I'd never do it. But in full disclosure, the thought has crossed my mind lately. You know the term "Mean Girls?" Well, they aren't just in junior high school. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Although we rarely go anymore, I actually enjoy bowling.
Growing up, it was the only sport I where I didn't have to wait to be the last person selected for a team. It's the only sport where I didn't have to get hit in the head with a ball or a bat. It's the only sport where I didn't have to run from one end of a field or court to another. Okay, so my memories of Phys. Ed. class aren't the best, although I loved square-dancing in elementary school (Yep, that was part of PE back in the days of yore).
Bowling is the only sport I ever excelled at. So much so that while attending FSU, I took Bowling (and Women's Glee Club) as a class for three semesters so I could keep my GPA up, because Geology and Chemistry really messed it up. Smart, huh?
Bowling is also the only sport that I can beat my husband at.

Anyway, instead of dropping my bowling ball on a mean woman's head, I found something more creative to do with all that pent-up frustration. At our November Crafting Sistas night, we started a project that I hadn't finished and had almost forgotten about. We were to up-cycle old bowling balls and make Gazing Balls.

In the end, this is a beautiful addition of art to my garden, but it takes time and patience.

What you need:

old bowling ball

Liquid Nails

glass beads

Pre-mixed Adhesive & Grout

Sealant

sponge and water

pedestal

Using just a small amount of Liquid Nails, begin applying the glass beads to the bowling ball.

You can only do one section of the ball each day, then you let it dry overnight before starting on another section. This took me a total of five nights, but only about 15-minutes each night.

Note: I saw a project similar to this one on the HGTV site, but they only glued the beads on and then set the ball in a garden. I have gone a little further by grouting my Gazing Ball and placing it on a pedestal.

When the whole bowling ball is covered in glass beads and the glue is dry, apply the Pre-Mixed Adhesive & Grout following the instructions on the container.

I simply put on a pair of surgical gloves and began smooshing it into the spaces between each bead, all the way around the entire ball. This took me about a half hour.

I let it sit for about 10-minutes, then I took a wet sponge (not soaking -- wring it out) and began wiping the grout from the tops of the beads.

This took a little more time, because you have to keep going over it with a clean wet sponge until all the beads are clean.

Let it dry overnight, then apply grout sealant. When that's dry, clean the beads, again, with a window cleaner so they shine in the light.

Voila! You have a beautiful new Gazing Ball!

Here's mine in my front garden.

And here's a little history/trivia about the Gazing Ball: http://www.yardenvy.com/pages/Gazing-Ball-Mistique.htm

You'd love this one, Mom.

I Ate Paste!

It's definitely time for some crafting.
In case you haven't noticed, I enjoy holidays.
All holidays, even the ones made up by Hallmark, give me reason to bring out the hot glue gun and paper cutter. With Valentine's Day right around the corner, I thought I should look for something related to that. After all, it's all of my favorite colors - reds and pinks.

And thanks to the 'invention' of Pinterest, I no longer have to scour through my shelves of craft books and old magazines for ideas. Pinterest has made the research process so much simpler, hasn't it? Type in what you might be looking for, and "poof," like magic, hundreds of ideas come up on your screen.

My younger sister first introduced me to Pinterest when she was helping her daughter plan her wedding. At first blush, that's really all I saw in it - a place to store wedding ideas. But then one day when I had nothing better to do (yah, right), I took another look and was immediately hooked. It actually happened just like the night I realized how easy it is to get drawn in to power-watching the TV shows you can download.

So, truth be told, I've been in a deep, dark, ugly place for about six-weeks. Not sure if it's the change in jobs that's the culprit or what, but today I decided it was time to turn to my blog and my craftin' supplies for some therapy.

I saw picture of a wreath while searching through the folders on Pinterest that interested me and decided to make it. It's very easy to do, but takes about 1 1/2 hours from start to finish.
Here are the supplies:
Heart-shaped Styrofoam
1-inch straight-pins
7 pieces of 12"x12" reversible scrapbook paper
paper cutter
12-inch long piece of ribbon
bone folder

Begin by cutting all of the paper into 1/2-inch strips.

Then, using the bone folder or the blade of a long pair of scissors, curl the paper strips from the middle to the end in both directions.

You'll end up with a whole bunch of curls that you will now pin onto the Styrofoam heart. Put a pin through the middle of the strip of paper and then down into the Styrofoam. It's really quite simple. I finished (from cutting the strips of paper to hanging the finished wreath on the door) mine in an hour and a half - during which time I watched the Food Network and learned some new recipes.

Pin a ribbon to the back of it so you can hang it and you're done!
How cute is this?
And it can be made in any shape of Styrofoam you can find using any colors of scrapbook paper. I can actually see this as a small decorative Christmas tree using a foam cone shape! Hmmmm...

So, speaking of getting ideas off of Pinterest -- I know I've told this story before, but it's worth re-visiting. (http://alwaysonmymindforeverinmyheart.blogspot.com/2013/11/this-little-guy-will-make-it-to-july.html) Soon after I became hooked on Pinterest (about three-years ago), Mother asked me how long it would take me to make everything I had "pinned." So, again, with nothing better to do (yah, right), she and I began calculating the time, giving each project 5-hours (which included sewing, quilting, crafting, gardening, cooking and baking). At that time, it came out to something like 18-years!
Oh my gosh, we laughed and laughed.
Good times that I miss, for sure.

Thanks for passing your talents on to me, Mom.

Challenge of Positivity Accepted

This time of year, I hear so many people say, "I can't wait for this year to be over."
To me, that just seems to be a lack of appreciation and gratefulness for life.

Even at my lowest times, I haven't wished for a year to hurry up and pass. For one thing, this whole aging process is not something I'm embracing with love and affection. So, to have another year pass quickly - well...

A friend of mine posted a challenge on her Facebook page that I gladly accepted. She challenged everyone to start the year off with a positive post, either about your own life or about the lives of others. Mine is this entry to my blog -- my gratefulness for life and all that surrounds me.

2014 has been a particularly interesting year for me - full of growth (yes, even a 61-year old woman can grow), fun, travel, love, acceptance and change.

The year was full of trying new things and going outside of our regular comfort zones. We began by cultivating our own vegetable garden; two people who had always kept a prize-winning, well manicured yard, but had never lifted a finger (or green thumb) to growing tomatoes, green beans, corn and cucumbers. We harvested quite a few Seminole Heritage Pumpkins and enjoyed them throughout this past fall.

I was finally strong enough to go through all of my mother's things and donate her clothing and her bedroom furniture to charity, separate some photos to eventually give to other family members and make big changes to what used to be her bedroom and bathroom. ('Though truth be told, I still often smell her in there. I think she likes the changes.) This year, I'll tackle her living room. Everything in good time.

One of several highlights of the year was the surprise visit by my brother, older sister and my cousin and her husband when Mother's memory was honored at a luncheon to benefit Girl Scouts. I will never, ever be able to truly express my surprise when they arrived, nor my gratitude to them for being here to be a part of the celebration. Getting to know my cousin has helped me over a hurdle that I didn't even realize was blocking my journey, and through her, I feel even closer to Mother and Dad.

We've traveled more this year than any other I can recall. And those travels forced me to face my fear of flying and heights - over and over. (I faced them, but I didn't quite conquer them.) We were so blessed to be able to travel to Seattle, Alaska and Vancouver with our son and his wife, seeing sights I never imagined and sharing the love of the outdoors. Being with them - experiencing all that we did together - helped bring me back to life and made me feel good about and accepting of all things.



After 16-years with the same company and 10-years in the same position, I gave my notice and left to start a new career as a development director for a non-profit. This was a huge step and a decision that took me nearly two-years to make. But the very instant it was made, I knew it was right for me - the world suddenly lifted off my shoulders and I felt free. Free of deadlines, free of a 60-65 hour work week, free of the commute - free. For the first time in 10-years, I'm able to live in the moment, and not two-weeks in advance. It's unbelievable how that has changed my life. No longer am I rushing off to cover a story, but rather I spend evenings with my love. I haven't looked back for even one moment. A new challenge, but well worth it at this time in my life.

 

Our blessings continue with a daughter-in-law who understands my emotional attachment to lost traditions as she helps create new ones that have often brought tears to our eyes -- tears brought on by laughter. I look forward to more of her surprises.

 

We'll close out the year as we started it, surrounded by family and friends as the clock strikes midnight. I'm so grateful I can see the light, even if it took me 61-years.

 

Blessings to all of you and your families for a healthy and prosperous 2015.

 

Happy New Year, Mom and Dad.

Super Saturday - The Sprint to Bake, Make and Take

During the holiday season, we have Black Friday, Cyber Monday, Giving Tuesday and now Super Saturday.

In my house, Super Saturday (the Saturday before Christmas) has always been the sprint to cook up those delicious goodies that most of us only bake, make or take once a year. (That wouldn't be me. My sweet tooth prohibits such behavior.)

This year, there's just four of us, so I'm not going crazy - just three recipes and fun crafts to share:
My son's favorite, White Trash, traditionally made by my mother;
My favorite, Chocolate Chip Cookies (Mom's recipe tweaked by me);
And one of my mother's favorites, Mexican Wedding Cakes (my little sister and I called them Snowballs).

First up -- What we call White Trash. This is a sweet treat that's so simple to make, and not just at Christmas time. When the horrendous 2004 hurricane season was deemed over, my family celebrated at our Thanksgiving dinner, where everyone had to bring something iconic to the "Year of the Back-to-Back Hurricanes." Because the streets were loaded with trash - palm frons, tree branches, pieces of window shutters, etc. for so many weeks, my mother made her White Trash and had it in little tiny trash can containers for everyone. Clever, right?

White Trash Ingredients
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips                          1/2 cup peanut butter
2 cups powdered sugar                                           9 cups Rice Chex cereal

Put cereal in a large bowl. Melt the chocolate chips over a double boiler, then add the peanut butter and melt, stirring with a fork. Pour chocolate mixture over cereal and gently stir until all of the cereal is coated with chocolate. Put powdered sugar into a large plastic bag, add chocolate coated cereal and shake until all of the cereal is coated with powdered sugar. Store in an air-tight container.

15-Minute Craft -- You know those metal burner covers you can buy for gas and electric stoves? Turn one over and clip clothes pins to the edge that's turned up. The small burner cover takes about 40 clothes pins. At this point, you can spray paint it, if you want to, but I left mine natural. Tie a ribbon around it and fill it with ornaments. Call it done!

Side bar -- I just looked up and there's my God Wink of the day. My cardinal is back and she's sitting right in front of me on a low branch of one of our cypress trees in the back yard - just staring at me. Thanks, Mom!

Next are some of the best Chocolate Chip Cookies you'll ever taste. The secret to these cookies lies in the oatmeal, a little extra flour and eating them while they're fresh.

Chocolate Chip Cookies Ingredients -- 350-degrees
1 cup sweet unsalted butter                                     3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup light brown sugar                                        1 tsp. vanilla
2 large eggs                                                              1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda                                                    2 1/2 cups sifted, all-purpose flour
1/2 cup one-minute oatmeal                                    18 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips

In a large bowl, beat butter until creamy, add both sugars and beat until creamy, then add the two eggs and vanilla and beat until creamy. While mixer is on a low speed, add salt and baking soda. Then add flour 1/4 cup at a time and slowly increase speed of mixer. Add oatmeal and mix until well blended. Then add chocolate chips by hand, stirring until completely blended. Don't scrimp on the chips. Every bite of each cookie will be filled with the sweet taste of chocolate. Note -- I hate spending all day putting cookies in and out of the oven, so I make mine larger than most, using an ice cream scooper. Place cookies on a greased sheet and bake for about 15-20-minutes. Every oven is different, and I have a convection oven, which is another secret to what makes these cookies divine.

15-Minute Craft -- Using hot glue, silk flowers and ribbon, attach a flower and a bow to plastic shower curtain rings. Viola! You have beautiful napkin rings.

We never celebrated Christmas without Mexican Wedding Cakes, and you can see why my sister and I called them Snowballs. These are best with a glass of milk. (Good to leave out for Santa.)

Mexican Wedding Cakes Ingredients -- 325-degrees
1/2 cup powdered sugar                                            1 cup sweet unsalted butter
2 tsp. vanilla                                                              2 cups sifted, all-purpose flour
1 cup finely chopped pecans                                     1/4 tsp. salt
additional 3/4 powdered sugar

In a large bowl, beat 1/2 cup powdered sugar, butter and vanilla until light and fluffy. On low speed, add flour 1/4 cup at a time, then add pecans and salt. Mix until well blended. Form into 1-inch balls (again, I have no patience for this part of baking, so mine are always larger) and place on an ungreased cookie sheet about an inch apart. Bake 13-17 minutes, or until set but not brown. Basically, they'll look about the same coming out as they did going in to the oven. Remove from oven, and place on cooling racks for 10-minutes. Place the additional 3/4 cup of powdered sugar in a small bowl and roll cookies around in the powdered sugar until coated. Cool 15-minutes then roll in powdered sugar, again.

15-Minute Craft -- Have your children/grandchildren help you with this one. Using white copy paper, cut into shapes of the season (Christmas tree, bell, stocking, et.). Have the children color them, spread with glue and glitter, etc. After they dry, turn them over and write the date and name of each child. Poke a hole at the top and put an ornament hanger on them -- Hang them with pride. The ornaments pictured were made by my son in 1981.

What fun! That's my post for this Christmas season. Probably should have done it sooner, but with the children home from school this week, maybe you can do some of this together.

Love to you all. Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah and blessings for a wonderful holiday season!


Merry Christmas, Daddy and Mom.