Category: grateful

Peanut Butter cookies

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My adult son used to work in an office of about 6-7 other people.  They worked in one room, closely together and it was a casual atmosphere because it was stressful work. 

One way for me to see my son more often was to visit him at the office.  I could walk in and be greeted with smiles by everyone.

I don’t like peanut butter, except in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  I made peanut butter cookies one time and (for some unknown reason) I took a bite to taste them.  Yuck!

I took them into their office.  I got my hugs, gave them the cookies, said, “They are awful” and headed out the door so they could get back to work. 

Later that day, my son called to tell me that they weren’t awful, that they loved the cookies.  I reminded him that they I didn’t like peanut butter cookies. 

… not a funny little story but one that warms my heart to think about. 
I wish you many thoughts that warms your heart.  

Another … Only in the movies

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I thought I had already shared this once yet I can’t see where or if I really did so, here it is because, well it’s just to good not to share.

My son had been out of town.  I asked his wife if I could pick him up from the airport. 

While I was waiting for him, there was a young man standing next to me, also waiting for someone.  He was obviously nervous. He told me that he met a gal online.  They’ve talked and now she’s coming to spend a weekend with him.  His nervousness was worrying that she’s changed her mind or will turn around and leave.  I was doing my best to just talk to him so he could calm his nerves.

The time has come, I see my son walking towards us.  I almost wanted to stay with this young man until she arrived. 


My son comes through the glass doors and walks right to me.  Or … actually right to this young man.  My son tells him that she is in the bathroom and she is so excited to see him and spend the weekend together. 

My son sat next to her during the flight.  My son saw the young man’s picture and instantly knew who he was when he saw me standing next to him.


I still get teared up when I think about it.

I love tear-jerker movies.  In the beginning and end of the movie, “Love Actually” there are airport scenes with people happy to see each other or hugging before someone goes through security.  Every time I’m at an airport, I’m teared up from watching all the people waiting to pick someone up and the hugs when they see each other.  

Life’s Plan

Posted on Posted in balance, grateful, the things we doLeave a comment

We are often reminded that life’s plan is very different than our own.  Sometimes life takes twists and turns that are not only challenging but allows little to no time for what we want to do or what feeds our soul.  Hopefully we bounce back, come back and/or crawl back; maybe not always to the way things were but maybe to a way we hadn’t though of and finding our balance.

I had such challenges over the last several months and am on my way back. I can look back and laugh at moments that made me duck my head under the covers for a moment longer or even made me cry at times.  I can laugh at some of those moments because of how I reacted.

When situations came to a boiling point, I had a melt down down, (what looking back now seems very minor).  I am grateful that I can laugh about it now and also look ahead that as I continue to get my roots planted back into the ground, I feel the release of stressors and that which weighed me down (often times even created by myself in the midst of chaos.

Shaking it off and smiling that I made it through the storm. Picking up a paintbrush and allowing it to leave its mark on the canvas.

Getting ready for the large fair that I do once a year; The Hyde Park Street Fair. Sept 16-18 in Boise, Idaho.  

More “new dog” tales/tails

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It was last April that we rescued a sweet old girl.  She has great energy, no longer acts her age and makes me giggle every day. 

Well we rescued another dog.  My old lab passed last January.  I’ve had labs for about 40 years.  I love labs and I love big labs.  I’ve wanted another, although I felt it was more important rescue a dog that really needed a safe and loving home. 

I’ve been looking at many shelters for about 2 months.  I have certain criteria also.  Over 4 years old because I’m too old and my mother is way to old for a puppy or very young dog.  It must be good with other dogs and cats, as well as young kids because I still have young grandkids.  I also want a black dog.  Black dogs are my favorite but also they are often not adopted. 

We thought we found a dog that would fit our home well.  He wasn’t large but the same size as our Rosey who was adopted last year. This one to needed a safe, loving forever home as much as Rosey did when we found her.  As it turned out, they told us that he didn’t like kids  but had forgotten to mention it in his description.

As far as labs … I first had black labs.  Then when my kids were young we had yellow labs.  We had a beautiful 100 lb, (white) yellow, female.  Later I had a black lab again.  I also prefer the English labs with the stocky body, shorter nose and block heads.  My older son has only had and only wants chocolate labs.  I never imagined getting a chocolate lab but there they were.  If you know me at all, you know that when it comes to dogs … my preferences mean little as as soon as I’m face to face with them, I love them all.  The bigger they are the quicker I melt.

Two chocolate labs were at the shelter.  This big boy is 4 years old; good with other dogs, cats and little kids.  One of the labs was a beautiful 100 lb boy.  We were instantly drawn to him.

We went to see them, brought our dear old dog, Rosey and left the shelter with Clark.  He is the most lovable dog.  He is the biggest love.  He wants to be loved on constantly, which is difficult for me to resist because I melt.  He isn’t energetic.  He’s kind of a lazy boy.  The ball thrown 4 -5 times is good for him and he’s ready to roll in the grass or watch Rosey play.  Walks is how this boy will get exercise I believe.

Moving … in the cold

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Several years ago my son and his family moved to Chicago.  It was winter when they were moving back.  My son’s father-in-law was planning on driving the rented moving truck with the cat.  My son and I were to be in his car with the dogs. His wife flew back with the kids.

It was cold, very cold.  We didn’t get too far out from Chicago before we stopped for the night as the weather wasn’t so good.  We’re all from snow states so we’re used to nasty winter weather.

The first morning, the rental truck wouldn’t start.  We called the company to send someone out to get it started for us.

I can’t remember what day it was or how far into our travels, however … once we were in the middle of nowhere, the transmission in the rental truck started acting up.  We saw a gas station at an exit.  We parked in the lot of an abandoned restaurant, next to the gas station.  We called the company again.  Since we were in the middle of nowhere, they said it would take awhile to get someone out to us with a replacement truck and crew to switch out the contents.  

In the meantime, it was 6° outside so we sat in the vehicles, heaters on.  Thankfully the rental truck only had transmission troubles and not engine troubles so that the heater could run.

Every once in a while, one of us would run into the gas station for a hot drink or a snack.  I’m not a coffee drinker so I’d get hot chocolate.  It’s usually not my favorite yet this day, it was perfect.  My first cup was way too hot to drink so I set it outside for a minute (it may have been a bit longer than a minute).  When I got it, it was no longer hot, in fact it was barely warm. 
From then on, when I’d get my hot chocolate, I’d only leave it on the ground outside, for a moment.  

It took over 5 hours for the tow truck to come.  Instead of waiting for the rental truck company to  swap out trucks, he told us to stick the keys of the wounded truck, under the mat and he’d come back for it.  Thirty to forty five minutes later, the rental truck company guys came to swap out the contents of the truck.  

It’s funny how sitting around for hours, with nowhere to go can feel like such a long day.  I couldn’t have more grateful for this trip. My heart was so full that I got to spend 24/7 days with my youngest son. As they grow up and work long hours and are busy with kids, I don’t get many opportunities like this. It may not have been the ideal trip, but it was ideal to my heart. My son even teased that I sabotaged the rental truck so that I could spend more time with him. Ha ha

My first cold, winter move was New Years Eve 1983.  Snowy and with our six month old baby.  It seems like we move when it’s time to move, without planning for weather.

Hosting my First Thanksgiving and then some …

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This morning I was thinking about Thanksgivings of my past. Thank goodness our challenges are funnier in hind-sight.

The first couple of years that my husband and I were married, we had Thanksgiving with either my parents or his. Then I wanted to host Thanksgiving at our house. Our first born was a little guy so this was a very long time ago. I was excited and had my butterball turkey ready to go. These bigger turkeys cook for hours anyway but as the day progressed into evening and the turkey still wasn’t done, we began to believe that the oven was broken.

At closer look, I had cleaned the knobs on the stove and replaced them upside down. The turkey had been in a 250 degree oven for almost 10 hours. Ugh my first Thanksgiving feast felt like a disaster. Many years later. My eldest son and his fiancé were hosting their first Thanksgiving dinner. She was a bit defensive, emotional and … competitive.

She asked me to make the stuffing because by this time I had perfected stuffing and my boys loved my stuffing enough to brag about it. Over at their home, I was given a double box of stuffing and was asked to make one. Stuffing is stuffing right? It’s kind of hard to destroy boxed stuffing.

… or so I thought. My stuffing came out just as presumed that it would. My son’s fiancé made the second box of the double box of stuffing. She looked at mine and looked at hers and had a melt down. Hers looked like … baby poo.

I tried to reassure her that everyone’s first time hosting a Thanksgiving dinner, something doesn’t turn out right. And of course, these are the times that we reminisce and laugh a about for the rest of our lives. I am so grateful that we have these memories and can laught about them.

The silver lining

Posted on Posted in Extraordinary things, grateful, happy, healing, healthy, nostalgia, over-coming fears, peace, perception, the things we do, unexplained mysteriesLeave a comment

I love movies and have for a long time. When my boys were young there were movies we’d watch over and over and never grow tired of them. I’m still that way. I love the movies that surprise me at the end like Sixth Sense, The Others and Shutter Island. I love the romantic comedies, tear-jerkers and a good drama. I love the Pixar and Dream Works type animated movies, especially the ones that make me laugh. I am a sucker for sappy romance movies too.

I’m grateful that during many challenging times throughout my life, I’ve found the silver lining. Sometimes it’s not some ah-ha moment, divine wisdom or a sense of grateful lesson but a gift within the challenge.

My TBI was at the end of 2003. During 2008 and 2009 was by far the most challenging time of my decreased cognition. My short term memory was … well, very short. Some … well quite a bit of my long term memory wasn’t so good either.

The most entertaining silver lining as a result of my TBI came during 2008 and 2009 when my cognition was at it’s worst. I could watch movies over and over again and not remember a thing. Even the movies I had on VHS that I had watched for years became new again. It was fabulous! The only one I didn’t like was City of Angels because every time, the ending would rip my heart out and each time, I never saw it coming.

I am grateful for all the silver linings that I’ve been fortunate enough to recognize.

My dog thinks he’s very clever

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My lab thinks he is very clever. There are certain times of the day he needs to go outside to go potty, especially first thing in the morning before he gets breakfast and right before we go to bed.

The rule is that every morning he goes outside to do his business (both) before he comes in to get fed his breakfast. He gets so excited to eat (he’s a lab, he always thinks its time to eat), that he pretends to do his business. He does this sometimes at night too.

He’ll do one thing and then look to see if I’m watching him. Because he does this often, I have to watch him, like he’s a 5 year old kid. When he sees me watching him, he’ll go behind a bush and just stand there for a moment and then come running to the door. I tell him that I know he didn’t finish and to go potty. He’ll go back out into the yard and do it again; stand behind a bush, peeking at me. Sometimes he’ll go behind a bush, see my watching and find another bush and continue that 3-4 times. All I need to do is stand at the door and point to the yard and he’ll go back to recalculate his next move, like it’s a game. Sometimes I need to go outside and wait, and then he’ll finish going potty.

It’s hilarious how clever he thinks he is.

The older we get…

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Isn’t it amazing how regardless how old we are, our grown children don’t seem to age. My oldest by is getting close to 40 years old. That’s amazing to me because for many years I haven’t felt older than 35 years old. Over the last couple of years I see myself aging, I’m feeling more like … 45 years old now.

When I think of the age of my boys I’m truly amazed. Funnier yet (to me), when dreaming they are still little boys. When I see them, I still see my ‘boys’. It’s difficult to change the dialog to men, even though they’ve been men for a long time now.

When I see anyone close to the age of my boys, I think of them as kids. I wasn’t so appreciative of older adults calling me a kid when I was 30, 35 and 40 years old. I sure understand it now.

Bees and other flyers

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When I was a kid, well and way into my adult-hood, I was terrified of bees and other flying creatures.

I didn’t like butterflies because they seemed as confused as moths and would flitter about aimlessly. I couldn’t dodge them because I didn’t know which way they’d be going.

I especially didn’t like bees. I was terrified of them. When I was five years old we were on a camping trip. My older brother and I were exploring and found an old ticket booth. As he opened it up we were surrounded by bees. He was stung mercilessly while I only got a few stings but one that would forever remind me. I had a little crevice in my nose for most of my life from one of those stings. (I think it finally went away about 15 years ago.)

My fear of bees was a source of entertainment for all who witnessed it. When I’d work in the flowerbeds, if a bee came I’d run as fast as I could, flailing my arms like a mad women. The elderly couple across the street loved it. I had other similar occasions where people would see me screaming and running; at picnics, in parks, etc. I’ve seen adults and kids alike, laughing hysterically at the sight.

In late 2003 I had a TBI. One of the very incredible things to come from that was that I no longer had any fear of bees or other flying creatures.

In 2005 I went into a butterfly hutch and was surrounded by thousands of butterflies, I was amazed by them.

I realized I no longer had a fear of bees when I went with my mother to a lavender farm to cut fresh lavender. I was squatting on the ground clipping and realized that I had bees buzzing all around me and I was fine.

I now have a tree not far from our front door. This time of year, as I walk by it, all I can hear is the beautiful hum, the buzzing of many bees on the blossoms and I feel a sense of awe throughout my being.

The difference? The TBI slowed me down and reconnected me to nature in a way that I hadn’t been since I was a child, living in the mountains of Colorado.