Babies. . . real. . . and not so

Kelly couldn't resist putting Piper beside Helena's baby doll to compare sizes.
Oh. My. Stars!
I think the doll may be bigger! !

What made it cuter was Piper looking at the doll as if to say:
"I see that suckie. I know you have it. So . . . . how about sharing?"

Or:

"Hey there. How ya doin'? Looks like we could be friends!"

"Little Miss Piper Rylee"

She entered this world fast and sweet

Practically perfect from her nose to her feet.

Weighing in at five pounds, nine ounces

I'm sure she had everyone there bobbing and bouncing.

She's just a mere eighteen inches long

And already in our hearts she's created a song.

I can hardly wait to watch as she grows

Dressed all up in frilly pink clothes.

When God made her, He must have been smiling

Welcome to our hearts Little Miss Piper Rylee!

We love you!

MY POETRY

The Broken Heart

There comes a time when the pain's so strong
You want to pull within yourself.
But life won't wait for your heart to heal,
So you put your pain upon a shelf.

You feel the knot welling in your chest
It's an all too familiar feeling
You've had it before when your heart was torn
And know only time can do the healing.

But life won't wait for your heart to heal,
It's impatient at it's very best
So you remind your heart that the time will come
When pain and tears give way to rest.

The weepy feeling you carry within
Is hidden from everyone's view
You smile and nod and chatter on
Because despite the pain, that is what you do.

You realize as you're kneeling down
And praying all by yourself
There's One who holds your aching heart
He's taken it from that shelf.

And when that day comes and the pain has fled
You'll know Who came to steal
The massive shards of your broken heart
Because He had time to heal.

Crickett

Ocean City Stamp Convention/Car Show

Today I went to the Stamp Convention in Ocean City with Karen Kook and the second half of my "Aaron and Hur" team, Heidi! We had a lovely time shopping, I mean browsing, all the neat items one must have for the "addiction of choice". This was, needless to say, the place for Miss Heidi! I tried really, really, I mean, re-eally hard not to be an enabler! Do you know how hard that is when the things that strike your own fancy are just around the corner? ? ? NOT easy. Nope. Not at all. We did not, I repeat, DID NOT, break the bank, PTL! Guys, are ya hearin' this?



But . . . . right smack dab in the middle of our little excursion, the fire alarm went off. "Everybody leave by the nearest exit." This was not a drill. It was, however, a small kitchen fire. Don't think I'll be eating there. But all was well. As with every other woman I know, these two are good as multi-tasking. They ate lunch while waiting to return to the building. My kind of gals. Karen even shared her PB & J with me. It's always better when someone else makes it, don't you think?

But just in case you are a guy reading this, or perhaps you - Bob, these few photos are for you! Don't say we never think of our men when we are away - nope, nope, nope. We sacrificed valuable shopping, I mean browsing, time to take these pictures for you. I know - there aren't many, but it's hard to "hit a moving target"! So sit back - listen for the rumble, watch for the burnouts, and enjoy! (Yes, you do have to use your imagination a little here - jeepers, we can't do everything!)

Home-Ec 101

James M. Bennett Jr. High School
The year: l966/67 - 7th grade
The teacher: Miss Hambrick
(she was meaner than a striped snake!)

Stop counting - it was 43 years ago! ! !


Last night I had a brief "shopping spree" at Michaels and Marshalls with half of my "Aaron and Hur" team - Diane. She was telling me that Roberta was giving Sarah sewing lessons and her first project was an apron. That opened the flood gates to my mind - all the way back to 7th grade and my apron!

One of our projects (maybe the only sewing project) was to make an apron. Said apron had to have two contrasting fabrics. I think I did well in my color choice - don'tcha say?
The apron had four deep pockets on the front - I'm thinking they were for hiding all that food were were to make (but didn't get to eat - explain that to me, would ya).

All went well until the end. We were running out of time so Miss Hambrick said we could take our aprons home and put the ties on. That was all I had left to do. I did exactly what she said - promise. No help from mom - you see, I had already been sewing for quite some time, so this was a cake walk for me. I put the ties on and proudly returned it to Miss Grinch - I mean, Miss Hambrick. She flat out told me it was not - I say , NOT, acceptable and I would have to take it back home and rip the ties off and do it again! What? ? ? ? Did I just hear "rip it OUT"? It had to be a mistake. My apron was perfect, but being taught well by my parents, I gathered up my goods and took them home. I showed my mom my "imperfections" and she agreed with me - well now, I had someone on my side. Mom said it looked "fine" and she probably wrote the book on sewing, so there, Miss Hambrick! Ha. . . my mom won out over the teacher this time. Now, please don't get me wrong. I DID NOT run back to Miss Grinch and tell her that she was sadly mistaken about my apron. Nope - I wasn't taught to back talk or fight with an adult about "rules". Instead, I left my apron home and that is where it stayed thru the end of the marking period. Needless to say, I got an "E" on my project and my report card. The only "E" I had ever gotten in my life! I might have been devastated, but this time I knew I was right. It is the only time I've "kicked against the pricks" when it came to school.

I included this pic - with the ruler - because I was simply amazed at how small the waist was! Good gravy Marie, less than 10 inches across! What I would give to have that waistline again - oh my stars! Now - this is just the front part, but I figured my waist had to be around 18-20 inches. Is that small for a 12 year old? maybe not, but it sure looks small to me now! !

This Week in Review

Bob took a new job out of state this past February - at the end of the last big snow storm we had. With this decision came many more. We had "to get our house in order" as it were. This meant:

Finishing the backyard projects. One being a pergola. This would have been done long before now (or even February) had the weather been co-operative. The deck was 98 percent done and needed just a few "tweakings" - but the pergola was the one outdoor project looming over our heads. (No pun intended!)

Then there is the matter of the kitchen. I don't really know what possessed me back in the eighties - but I just had to have a dark blue kitchen with a rose colored counter top. Yep, you heard me right. Now, everyone knows that's just not going to cut it when the house goes on the market. Do you know how many coats of white paint (actually its called Swiss Coffee) (after the primer) it takes to cover up dark blue? Way too many to feel all warm and fuzzy about. Well - I did feel a little "fuzzy", but I don't think it was in a good way. May have had something to do with the amount of time my head was buried in the cabinets! That'll just learn me, won't it? We just have the new counter, sink, faucet, fridge, dishwasher, back splash and the rest of the bead board to install and we will be done. Not much really. Right - who am I kidding!

We (we being Ben - my handy dandy worker - and me) wanted to have all these things done before Bob got here for Ben's graduation, but as you can tell, it didn't happen. So. . . . .

Ben's graduation! Our boy graduated from Wor-Wic with an Associates degree. (He still has some "time" to do - but that's okay!). Bob got here just a few hours before hand. He brought Alicia with him, which was a wonderful surprise for Ben.

It was non-stop from that point on. We tried to cram as much into these few days as we could. There was berry picking, shopping, Em-ings, Delmar Pizza, WAWA, (the local "eateries" that Bob misses!) a cookout, visiting, Barnes and Noble (for Ben and Alicia) . . . . . .on and on. We ate so much this week, if I don't eat for another week, it will be perfectly fine.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end. Bob and Alicia had to leave this morning. It was a very tearful time. But, Lord willing and the creek don't rise (as my mom would say), we will get done all that needs to be done and the house on the market. And. . . . . prayerfully, someone will fall in love with it as much as we are and will buy it so we can get on with some kind of "normalcy"!

That's all I have to say about that.

Strawberry Pickin' Time means Strawberry Lickin' Time!

At least in this house!


While Bob and Alicia were here this past weekend we had to - just had to - make a trek to the strawberry patch. The patch of choice here is "Oakley's Market"! The berries were unusually large and abundant this year. May have had something to do with all the rain we endured this past winter and early spring!


In my opinion there is nothing that tops picking your own berries and then turning them into something akin to "Heaven on earth"! ! !

We didn't have time to make jam but had a request for some strawberry pies for dinner this evening. Alicia jumped right in and tackled the task at hand. (With some cheering from the side lines!) I think just as special as the pies, is the source of the recipe. Kelly got it from one of her old beau's grandmother and it has been a staple in this house every spring since! Thank you, thank you, Mrs. Betty Stephens! :)

Not only is the anticipation of the goodness of the pies overwhelming, the race to lick the pot is just as much part of making the goodness as the goodness itself!

Peony, Peony!

I've had this plant for several years. I have fretted over her, prayed over her and just plain begged her to bloom. And bloom she would not. Not until last year. And what glorious blooms she gave me. But to my dismay, one morning after a hard night's rain, I went outside and there she was, sprawled on the ground like a spider. And there my lovely lady stayed for the rest of the season. Oh - the horror!

So this year - ah-ha! - I got a peony ring. Yes I did! And it is lovely - well, not really. But it is practical for my lovely plant, and she wears it well. She is in full bloom as we speak and the ring helps her hold her blossoms high and display them like the queen of my flower bed that she is! ! !

Looking at her makes me want to don a frilly pink flowered frock, sparkly flip flops and dance around to Beach Boy music! (Yes, I said the "d" word and "BB" in the same sentence!) But in lieu of that image blazing in your brain, I chose to share some lovely pics. Easier on the eye, and mind, I say.

"Tomorrow is Alysa's birthday."

A brief conversation with Helena this afternoon as she is laying on the couch watching "Noddy":

Helena: "Tomorrow is Alysa's birthday."
Me: "Who is Alysa?"
Helena: " A girl in my classroom. She will be seven."
Me: "Seven?"
Helena: "Yes. Seven."
Me: "Is she a new girl?"
Helena: "No. She is six now. She is old. Very old."

End of conversation. Back to watching Noddy.

Alrighty then.



PS - I should clarify the age thing - Helena is 5 and in Kindergarten ~ ~

Leaning on the Door Jamb of Life

Have you ever just leaned on the door jamb of life and watched your kids and the talents they have or are developing and wondered where they came from? I don't mean the obvious answer. We all know the Lord bestows upon us various talents and gifts. That is a given. But, I'm talking about the human part of the process.

I have been "leaning" a lot lately and pondering those very thoughts.

I look at my children and grandchildren and observe those things they have an interest in and do. And I wonder. . . . . who and where did that come from, exactly?

There is singing, and cooking, and scrap booking, and sports, and building, and sewing, and art, and fishing, and reading, and writing, and on and on and on. The talents intertwine from family to family and generation to generation. I see this when someone wants to sew. Or when someone puts together a beautiful scrap booking page or card. Or when I hear a hammer or drill or saw. Or when I hear the harmonious voices that only siblings can share.

They say the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree. I think it's even deeper than that. I think those little sucker roots that run just beneath the ground surface feet or yards or even miles away.
They sprout up replicas of the "first generation tree". Quite unexpectedly these saplings appear and to my amazement remind me of my past. How can it be that I am staring into the future and the past at the same time? How is it I can connect one with the other just as easily as connecting the dots? I believe it is something stronger than a notion - it's a deep desire to keep the past alive in the present for the future.

It makes me weepy with nostalgia to think one's heritage is but a glance away - that the things I long for from my youth are manifesting in front of me as I grow older. No - I can't go back. I don't want to. But. . . . I can, and will, take comfort in these things as they blossom in front of me. They are what talk to my soul. That these gifts and talents have coursed not only thru my blood, but the blood of my ancestors, to the ones I love most, is more than I can handle at times.

And so it goes - that huge, strong tree has produced many saplings down the line. And for that, I am grateful.

MY POETRY

"Don't Talk to Aliens!"

My mom would say: "Don't talk to strangers.
I don't want you in any danger!"

So I did what I was told
Talked to no one, young or old

They had to be family or my friends
Before I said, "Yes, please come in."

But just the other day I read
Something that made me smack my head!

An article written by someone famous
Warning me: "Don't talk to aliens!"

You don't know if they're friend or foe
So up to them don't you go!

So what I want to know is this
Who are the aliens in our midst?

Is it the gal with hair bright pink
Or the one that's covered in ink?

Or the guy with spiked hair so blue
Sporting a gruesome green tattoo?

Perhaps it's the one with crop circles in his hair
Wearing chains hanging down to there?

Or the fellow with huge holes in his lobes
Does he live here upon this globe?

I don't believe it's the ones above
That the article is speaking of.

However, to put my mind at ease
I prefer to think it's any of these.

They are flesh and blood like me
They are people I can see.

But instead I think he means
The ones whose skin glows bright green

With nodules where their eyes should be
How on earth are they suppose to see?

Transparent bodies with nobby knees
And instead of five fingers, they have three!

Or maybe they are more robotic
Soaring around in mini rockets

With metalic bodies all bright and shiney
And I'm sure their brains are quite tiny.

I doubt their presence I will see
And I am content to "let them be"!

So for the aliens I'm to avoid
Let's just call them, Hawkins' 'droids!

Crickett

Yes, I did read an article warning us not to talk to aliens, like I would - geez.
Mr. Hawkins, give us some credit here, would ya?

Carrie and Dan, Dan and Carrie!

The shower cake - made by Aunt Susan - beautiful to say the least

Carrie and Dan - how sweet

oh, and Mom-mom

The gift table

See the color theme yet?

The coveted "hat of bows"!

This weekend I had the pleasant privilege of attending a wedding shower for Dan and Carrie!

It was a beautiful shower, to say the least and appears that everything went off without a hitch!

The Bridal party did a superb job - kudos girls! ! ! !

Carrie was genuinely surprised and broke into tears, which in turn caused most of us to tear up. Oh what a happy time of tears! (I later heard that it made Dan tear, too - I won't say cry because he's a man, ya know?)

The games, the company, the food, all of it was great! Did I mention the food? - Just seein' if you're payin' attention here. The weather even co-operated and gave us a beautiful day!

The ride going to and coming from the shower was great too. I had a wonderful time chatting with Susan (aka: Aunt Susan, Miss So-in-so --that's another story in itself), Gracie (aka: Ganny), and Jackie (aka: Mom-mom, Mom-mom Jackie - still another story).

It is wonderful to see our children grow and mature into fine, responsible, young adults, and I thank the Lord for that. Period.