tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84354720880472939552024-03-05T08:18:49.773-08:00In My Father's HouseTWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.comBlogger328125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-68296761209844599082013-03-23T14:02:00.001-07:002013-03-23T14:02:39.354-07:00Stop and Think!This blog post by Michael Hyatt really made me think:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://michaelhyatt.com/tale-of-two-coaches.html" target="_blank">A Tale of Two Coaches: What Kind Are You?</a><br />
<br />
I definately want to be Victor, but I know that I tend to be more like Frank. Yikes. I hope this sticks in my memory and I remember to stop and think more before speaking! <br />
<br />
Thanks Michael for a great inspiration post!<br />
<br />
T.W. <br />
TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-11405040320509030242013-03-20T12:01:00.000-07:002013-03-20T12:01:13.555-07:00Spring Treats<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VqA6WwBHJ8oC2NdUBCghEZUThwT2GIVOQE2Mzo9qsO-ojjrFgnoGqBA6A2ULTRGqBNFM6RfnJx7nCDntTaUDhyphenhyphenfwQIaVkY1tEHKxYvmex25shER01kTYjSb_0WjAPHtXJPNtL8RD6WTQ/s1600/114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VqA6WwBHJ8oC2NdUBCghEZUThwT2GIVOQE2Mzo9qsO-ojjrFgnoGqBA6A2ULTRGqBNFM6RfnJx7nCDntTaUDhyphenhyphenfwQIaVkY1tEHKxYvmex25shER01kTYjSb_0WjAPHtXJPNtL8RD6WTQ/s320/114.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I have Chinese noodles and chocolate chips - and my sisters on the lookout
for a good price on Cadbury's Mini Eggs. And then I'll be making these little
gems!<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
The Basic Formula<o:p></o:p><br />
Chinese noodles<o:p></o:p><br />
2 cups (+?) Chocolate chips <o:p></o:p><br />
1 Tablespoon Shortening<o:p></o:p><br />
Mini Eggs<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Line a cookie sheet with wax paper. Lightly grease a bowl and put in the bag
of Chinese noodles. Melt chocolate chips in double boiler and add shortening.
Pour melted chocolate over noodles and gently coat them. Pull out a portion of
the melted chocolaty mass and form into a nest, approximately 2 inch across,
with an indentation in the middle. I use my hands. Allow nest to set for several
hours. Place "eggs" in nest and serve or display. <br />
<br />
I'll try to get more specific measurements when I make them!<br />
<br />
Enjoy!<br />
<br />
T.W.<br />
TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-10012533986595847112013-03-13T15:33:00.002-07:002013-03-13T15:33:56.199-07:00Good in What We Think is Bad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD_e-O4JN5dx1s_c_DQ9CxUUmKM9rQb0UdvjY6P-ZCAVq6eykvZqDXFsfeth6a-0V8tykXTKgu0Q_E7B1kdNV_c54MueGm-yH89IOKa4wos6Y6U2jWAIp8MaRkk28Q7mMREaxWQPpwWVzF/s1600/326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD_e-O4JN5dx1s_c_DQ9CxUUmKM9rQb0UdvjY6P-ZCAVq6eykvZqDXFsfeth6a-0V8tykXTKgu0Q_E7B1kdNV_c54MueGm-yH89IOKa4wos6Y6U2jWAIp8MaRkk28Q7mMREaxWQPpwWVzF/s320/326.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Recently I was feeling overwhelmed and weary, and I thought,
“I need a vacation.” BUT, I knew that was a very unrealistic need. (Can needs
be unrealistic?) Where would I go, and moreover, I didn’t want to spend any
money. So that was the end of the story. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But it wasn’t the end. In fact, life got worse, and after
valiantly fighting and hoping, I got sick. Mostly I breeze through colds with
mild symptoms, but this was a little worse and I had to stop and rest. But that
is when the good, in what I thought was bad, happened. I only felt uncomfortable
for about two days, and then while I definitely wasn’t well and still needed to
rest, I could actually enjoy this break thrust upon me guilt free. Furthermore,
spring weather arrived, and with it a renewing of hope. Here is a quote from an
e-mail I sent to a friend:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>“<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">This morning as a cool breeze from the outdoors stirred through the
house and sunshine shone brightly outside, I felt reenergized and renewed, the
promise of spring outdoors resonating with an emotional spring in my soul. I
have been weary, but these days of rest have been like a drink from a cold
winter well.”</span></em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That is what is was like, and it was almost ethereal. Resting all day,
letting myself forget all the work I should be doing and indulging in “fluff”
reading while wrapped in a blanket to ward off any chill from the invigorating
spring air. I made one exception to my “no working” rule and did some hand
sewing to finish a project I had wanted to do since Christmas, but that was it.
The rest I just let go for a few days. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So often if find it hard to let go and place things back in God’s
hands, but this gift of a rest period, packaged with beautiful sunshine and
crisp air was a reminder to me of God’s goodness, of his control of even the
smallest things, and that he can use even bad things to good purpose. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The foolishness of thinking that I can do a better job if I keep
control boggles my mind, and yet in a blink I forget and want things to go the
way I plan them. Why do I so often and so quickly forget to trust Him?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Sometimes a vacaction isn't where we go, it's how it makes us feel. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">T.W.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-10094963985368107112013-01-14T16:58:00.000-08:002013-01-14T16:58:13.991-08:00Don't Try to Come Between Me and My Sister
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The mindset of some people astounds me. I’ve heard it
before, but the older man finished admiring my family’s picture and then told
me, “Man, if I was a young guy dating one of you, I’d look around and say, hey,
I have some more options here, which one do I choose?”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I informed him that my brother-in-law had zeroed in on the
sister he wanted to marry and there was never any other option for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And that is how it should be.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If a guy was so flaky as to try and philander between
sisters, we’d show him the door - collectively. Yes, I have very beautiful
sisters, and we all do look a lot alike, but beneath that outer beauty are
young women with similarities, but very different in our personalities,
aspirations, goals and desires. Except that we’re all looking for a husband
that is tall and wealthy. We all pretty much agree on that. Did I ever mention
that we’re smart as well as beautiful? </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
Dreamers at any rate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It wouldn’t bother me if a guy thought we were all pretty,
that’s not a problem, but I react to the underlying spirit of focusing only on
the outward appearance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If a guy wants
to pursue a relationship with one of us, he’d jolly well better see something
special about that sister. Beauty is only skin deep and if you can’t appreciate
what is beneath that, then forget trying to go into a life- long relationship. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t mean this unkindly, but to provoke thought, “Is it
any wonder that this guy was married more than once?” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There was another older
guy there and he frequently talks about how beautiful our family is, which is
flattering, but I’ve also with grief heard him talk about his wife pointing out
attractive women to him. What’s wrong with that? Well, to be honest here, I
doubt she’s saying, “Look at that lovely girls face.” Jesus said, “If a man
even looks on a woman to lust after her he hath committed adultery already with
her in his heart.” Jesus had pretty high standards, and I don’t expect everyone
to be without sin, but to hear a Christian guy talking without shame about his
eye for the woman is a sad statement for how far we’ve fallen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Having said all this, it's not really to pick on the guys that I don't have great respect for, but becuase I know guys that
aren’t that way. No, they’re not perfect, but they have a heart to hold
themselves to Christ’s standard. That's pretty amazing. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Blessings,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">T.W.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-9035786797817752932012-12-25T16:09:00.001-08:002012-12-25T16:09:51.543-08:00Merry Christmas!Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas! May you abound in the blessings of Christ's love this season as you celebrate His birth. <br />
<br />
Glory to our King!<br />
<br />
T.W.TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-12947266959163963482012-11-23T15:12:00.002-08:002012-11-23T15:12:39.856-08:00Let's Talk TurkeyMy oldest nephew kept politely requesting things at the dessert table, very politely, but imperiously nonetheless. Finally I asked him, "Where's your kingdom?" He told me very ingenuously, "I don't know." I love that boy!<br />
<br />
Later he informed me, "I'm eating lots so I'll be big and strong like Daddy." Ah, sweet Hallmark moment, but I couldn't let it go at that, I asked him, "Are you going to be smart and brilliant like your Aunt T.W.?"<br />
<br />
One of my nieces took a bite of the cheesecake bars I had brought to the feast, I took one look at her face expression and asked, "Should I try a different recipe next time?" It was just such look as I might have given in my youth. She has a great future before her!<br />
<br />
We took family pictures and froze! But it was still fun. <br />
<br />
I'm so thankful for such a wonderful family! <br />
<br />
Hope your Thanksgiving was fabulous!<br />
<br />
T.W.TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-1550799506391842732012-11-06T16:18:00.001-08:002012-11-06T16:18:19.090-08:00Election DayA friend took my mother and I with her to vote today, but my mother discovered she didn't have a pair of glasses with her so she <u>didn't</u> vote becuase she couldn't see well enough. We did some shopping and other errands, mostly so she could pick up a pair of glasses.<br />
<br />
She returned later in the day and voted, and then as she dropped her ballot in the box she told the elderly lady taking ballots, "This is the second time I've been here today."<br />
<br />
PANIC!<br />
<br />
It was eventually clarified that no, she <u>hadn't</u> voted the first time. It was the first and only time she had voted that day. <br />
<br />
I'm not going to give a civic duty speech and tell you to go vote no matter who you're voting for, because I don't want to encourage people to vote the wrong way.<br />
<br />
I mean, do you think I should tell people, "Yes, go jump off a bridge. It's your civic duty." If you're not going to vote wisely, I'd rather you didn't.<br />
<br />
I'm just being honest. Don't you think that's refreshing in a political light?<br />
<br />
Good.<br />
<br />
T.W.TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-85119699345571271252012-10-24T13:07:00.000-07:002012-10-24T13:07:16.691-07:00Leaving Things BehindI vividly remember a story about a good friend of my grandmothers on a shopping trip when she purchased a pair of shoes for an incredible bargain - but they weren't her size! She bought them simply because the deal was "too good to pass up." <br />
<br />
In direct contrast, I love this post by Janice from <a href="http://theviviennefiles.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Vivienne Files</a>: <a href="http://theviviennefiles.blogspot.be/2012/10/its-not-in-my-plan.html" target="_blank">"It's Not In My Plan"</a>. <br />
<br />
Is it greed to snatch something up that doesn't work and we'll never use simply because the deal is too good to leave behind? Maybe we need to stop and think, "I don't need this, so I'll leave it to be a blessing to someone else."<br />
<br />
Do good buys catch you in their trap of being too good to pass up or do you find it easy to leave them behind if they won't work for you?<br />
<br />
T.W.<br />
<br />
<br />TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-52804757656620945772012-10-16T20:39:00.002-07:002012-10-16T20:39:42.625-07:00Drama on a Quiet Tuesday AfternoonMy sister-in-law and I took the two little girls outside to enjoy some beautiful sunny fall weather. We got the mail, and then flitted around the yard between the interests of two wee girls when our travels took us to the front porch. <br />
<br />
While I can’t recall the exact sequence of events, my oldest niece suddenly cried out in pain, and Mrs. S spotted a bee trying to sting her again. I grabbed my sunglasses since they were the only thing available to hand and was trying to get the bee off, but not having success. Then the Wee One cried out, and Mrs. S started screaming and ran off the porch. I was still trying to get the bee detached from Little Rose’s shirt, when her mother turned around and saw us still there and yelled at us to run! It was a good thing she did, because she knew there was a nest right by us, and they were starting to come out to attack!<br />
<br />
We all reached the side of the house, thinking we might be out of danger, but quickly realized that we still had vicious bees on our trail. We ran inside as quickly as possible and Mrs. S started getting the clothes off the girls. Which was a very good idea, because those nasty things will crawl into your clothing and keeping stinging you. We were trying to comfort and check out the little ones when we realized that we were still under attack! <br />
<br />
My sister-in-law grabbed the girls and ran into the other room, and then into the back bedroom while I attacked the bees. I don’t remember what I reached for as a weapon, but I assure you I stomped on those bees but good. There were only three, but there was something horrible about the fact that they had come into the house after us. Somewhere in there my sister-in-law had called her husband to ask about the stings, but by the time the call connected we were under attack again. I must confess to in all the madness feeling sorry for my brother who was miles away and couldn't do a thing to protect us from vicious bees.<br />
<br />
Really, God was very merciful! We didn’t suffer too many stings and the girls don’t seem all that bothered by them. Emotionally we may not be quite back to ourselves since there is something exceptionally traumatizing about being chased and attacked by bees, especially with little ones. <br />
<br />
It was fresh clothes for all of us, since bees invading your personal space is unnerving. I’m not sure when we’ll ever go outside again. I might have to make cookies tomorrow, since I feel that we are never going to be quite all right until we’ve had some chocolate chip cookies. It’s a thought at any rate. <br />
<br />
I hope the only thing dramatic about your Tuesday was the Presidential Debate. <br />
<br />
T.W.<br />
<br />TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-724507650998109652012-10-09T20:17:00.001-07:002012-10-09T20:17:44.939-07:00Who's Your Momma?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjii27HA_0nx3H567s3iiQUzwJW-TMB-nhPcsXBEZb0JYrGAUaKZ0I2efMPErBXeumgA8B1ZSlQdQmwK5cS3Zdxc6K47fqri2Hh267rMKD1y0gOLncW2H_Dgdq82__TxXW2pM_z1l3bBq5x/s1600/Horse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjii27HA_0nx3H567s3iiQUzwJW-TMB-nhPcsXBEZb0JYrGAUaKZ0I2efMPErBXeumgA8B1ZSlQdQmwK5cS3Zdxc6K47fqri2Hh267rMKD1y0gOLncW2H_Dgdq82__TxXW2pM_z1l3bBq5x/s400/Horse.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>It’s an epidemic. Or something. The young daughter of a friend of mine has several times recently called me Momma, but it is all in play. She also has called me “horsey,” so you can see why I don’t take these things personally. I have to say, it can be a tiny bit awkward, but I try to be a good sport and not interfere with her games since one of the times dolls were also involved. I have to say it is rather a shock to take on four “children” suddenly. I can only hope, that should they ever occur, it won’t take me that long to get my own children ready for school. How many times can you change an outfit?!!!<br />
<br />
But it doesn’t end there: I’m currently staying with my brother and sister-in-law and my oldest niece frequently refers to me as “Momma.” She picked it up from a movie (Aristocats?) where all the little kittens say respectfully, “Yes, Momma.” And when I first got here, that is what she did, answering anything with a polite, “Yes, Momma.” Now she often just calls me “Momma.” Mrs. S. and I have both tried to correct her to no avail. I even went through a long explanation, coached her through “Aunt” and everything, and did I make any progress? She looked at me and said, “Yes, Momma.”<br />
<br />
In humorous retaliation, I told her at one point that if she called me “Momma”, I was going to call her Tahitian, because right before I came I watched a movie that supposedly it is a Tahitian custom to share your children with those that don’t have any. In the movie it bugged me and I was thinking, “Raise your own kids!” I actually think it was Hollywood taking license with a custom that includes grandparents and other family members helping to raise the children – now that makes more sense. Handing your child off to a single young bachelor to rear just because he doesn’t have any seems like an imposition at best.<br />
<br />
Back to my niece, she knows I’m not her mother. That is not even an issue. The trouble is how to communicate to a three and half year old that “Momma” really isn’t a title I should go by. The logic of youth is escaping me. Of course, youth is escaping me too, but that is a whole other problem. I think perhaps just leaving the child to her own devices might allow her to work it out in her own way. Maybe. She did call me something today that roughly resembled my real name, and as butchered as it was, I applaud her progress. But then as she was heading to bed she told me, "Goodnight, Momma."<br />
<br />
Leading a curious life,<br />
<br />
T.W.<br />
<br />
(Who attends widows luncheons and is “Momma,” but not mother, to dolls and assorted children. And is sometimes a horse. <i>Neigh, it is too much to ask</i>.)<br />
TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-83396836862436304742012-09-18T13:06:00.000-07:002012-09-18T13:06:57.255-07:00Sporting Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5xqkzVH_qmQH0_5Eq0bt1jiASN6m0-l62X_EG-_-7arT3OzBq1IwJzNAAVqrObRRNoKiASiDymQHn994Um1t_xNj4khh9de93AT9DC4C-uBfTuJrW9Z_JfQ2hA9zi4BVXhDc6MJCGwAMJ/s1600/Fashion+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5xqkzVH_qmQH0_5Eq0bt1jiASN6m0-l62X_EG-_-7arT3OzBq1IwJzNAAVqrObRRNoKiASiDymQHn994Um1t_xNj4khh9de93AT9DC4C-uBfTuJrW9Z_JfQ2hA9zi4BVXhDc6MJCGwAMJ/s320/Fashion+1.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br />
I'm dressed pretty casual here, but I added the hat to up the style quotient! I probably would have traded the flip flops out for black ballet flats if I had them. <br />
<br />
Off to play volleyball after that. Well, actually, I was off to watch volleyball and hang out with three of my nephews and a niece on the sidelines!<br />
<br />
I love the t-shirt I'm wearing here because it is roomy and modest, and yet if I style it right, the lines are flattering, not sloppy.<br />
<br />
Have a wonderful Tuesday!<br />
<br />
T.W.TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-70660711381062435172012-09-14T15:12:00.001-07:002012-09-14T15:12:20.532-07:00Friday....<div style="text-align: center;">
But let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight, saith the Lord. Jeremiah 9:24 KJV</div>
TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-33054695532024806612012-09-12T15:38:00.000-07:002012-09-12T15:38:24.239-07:00Rigor Mortis and......About Me<br />
"Schedules aren't like rigor mortis, my dear, they're living, breathing things." -T.W.<br />
<br />
Sometimes when I talk to myself I have the cleverest thoughts. This quote is rather descriptive, and true. Don't you think so? I have no idea where it came from, we were just talking along (Myself and I) and it popped out. I think I need to put it in a book someday.<br />
<br />
On a more serious note, we shouldn't think of schedules as being unyielding. They are guidelines, fences, etc., but they should not constrain us. Sometimes the idea of a schedule overwhelms me because life is so unpredictable and how can I plan what is going to happen when, when nothing ever happens as I plan?<br />
<br />
I think perhaps I should come up with a schedule for myself. I'll have to remember that line about rigor mortis of course and keep in mind that I can still be flexible. A change is not likely to break any bones. Schedule bones and all that you know. <br />
<br />
I better change subjects because I'm becoming slightly ghastly. So, on another note, I'm working on an updated About Me for the blog and thought it would be fun if my readers wanted to ask questions that I could answer and maybe incorporate into my information somehow. Is there anything you're curious about? I don't mean to frighten you, but you do remember what curiosity did to the cat? Never mind. Ask away! How brave are you anyway? :) <br />
<br />
Anyway, that's all for now.<br />
<br />
T.W.TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-21952672046123666332012-08-28T16:52:00.001-07:002012-08-28T16:52:40.514-07:00Try These!Uncooked tortillas - flour or corn (we found them next to the pre-shredded cheeses!)<br />
1/2 pound of ground beef<br />
1/2 packet taco seasoning<br />
1 can of white beans<br />
1 can of black beans<br />
2 tomatoes, chopped (or use canned)<br />
Guacamole<br />
Optional:<br />
salsa<br />
shredded cheese<br />
<br />
Brown burger with taco seasoning mix. Add both cans of beans and tomatoes, cook until liquid slightly thickens (it will still be quite runny). Cook tortillas in butter according to package directions. Spread about 1/2 cup of bean mixture over tortilla and top with guacamole and salsa and shredded cheese if desired, fold in half and enjoy! <br />
<br />
The lady I'm staying with enjoyed these at her sister-in-law's house and recreated them at home on her health food kick! I've never seen tortillas that you cook yourself, but they are really yummy. <br />
<br />
This recipe is super simple, tasty, and good for you! I love that combination. :)TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-51940111506691017842012-08-24T14:27:00.001-07:002012-08-24T14:27:31.329-07:00House CleaningI'm house cleaning - on my blog. I didn't intend to, it just happened. I haven't been happy with the look ever since I changed it months ago. The graphics weren't as sharp as they looked before uploading, but I hadn't got around to fixing it. It's been bothering me. Really bothering me. I don't like things that aren't decoratively correct.<br />
<br />
I kind of stumbled upon the current look, and at the moment I like the fact that it is more streamlined and utilitarian. Mostly though, it was simple and I didn't have to worry about trying to get a silly banner all lined up and centered. <br />
<br />
What do you think? Is it okay for now but I should find a look that is a little more elegant? Or as long as I start putting in a little more content it doesn't matter what it looks like?<br />
<br />
Happy Friday!<br />
<br />
T.W.<br />
<br />
(Friday used to be our big cleaning day when I was growing up, so today was perfect for cleaing up the blog.)TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-70959769565735985392012-08-18T19:14:00.000-07:002012-08-18T19:14:10.310-07:00Keeping Life RealThe other morning I was up early brushing my teeth when I heard a weird noise that sounded ominous. I tensed and paused to listen, and then I realized............<br />
<br />
It was my stomach growling. Growling is right, I honestly thought for a moment some animal was hiding in the bathroom about to attack.<br />
<br />
That is the cold hard truth. <br />
<br />
T.W. TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-57856012322872683402012-08-14T19:42:00.000-07:002012-08-14T19:42:56.132-07:00Um, this could be me....<br />
<img src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/546513_4105480642448_1445996877_33654800_756758816_n.jpg" /><br />
<a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/72128031502899710/">http://pinterest.com/pin/72128031502899710/</a><br />
<br />
TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-14121673491416461272012-07-30T18:29:00.000-07:002012-07-30T18:29:05.567-07:00There Might be Something Wrong Here?My sister and I joined a friend for dinner in a swank casual dining restaurant. The only seating was in the bar area. We ordered water to drink. And then we prayed over our food. Does anybody else see the humor in this?<br />
<br />
Cheers and glasses of [root]beer!<br />
<br />
T.W.TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-72022671714306727582012-07-24T18:30:00.000-07:002012-09-09T13:00:36.609-07:00Farewell, Blue Castle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEahL5gjEYaOY4Bgm5x6W2ZzZGH_aKJ2Zl0R-qwM80XPmQDFTf1yp0m2XSpuJDsU5gijcCawb4k2-TRwwpRAHtRx_8FPkZxLeqQTLWtXBE5SaGMXvYx-ZZs75pMhk9G802zOGc56fO7d9H/s1600/Castle+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEahL5gjEYaOY4Bgm5x6W2ZzZGH_aKJ2Zl0R-qwM80XPmQDFTf1yp0m2XSpuJDsU5gijcCawb4k2-TRwwpRAHtRx_8FPkZxLeqQTLWtXBE5SaGMXvYx-ZZs75pMhk9G802zOGc56fO7d9H/s320/Castle+5.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The ground below you slowly flowed,<br />
Your foundation heaved, your wood buckled and bowed, <br />
<br />
The property listed, we waited for lookers<br />
But winter turned to spring without any tookers. (sorry, really sorry)<br />
<br />
I'm going to stop right now. It's just better that way. I'm glad you agree.<br />
<br />
Long poem short, we sold our mountain property! Actually, I'm not sure about that exclamation mark, even though it is a blessing, I have mixed emotions about it, but I am very grateful that God brough along a buyer. New beginnings my friends, new beginnings. <br />
<br />
I don't know if I've mentioned that we had already bought another place in town that we are completely remodeling. I use "we" loosely. I'm afraid I've been pretty much gone since we bought it. <br />
<br />
I'm back in my home state, but I'm house sitting so I'm still not home. Which is okay since they don't have plumbing or running water. Does anyone see a pattern here? <br />
<br />
The Blue Castle had so many hopes and dreams, so much potential, and it was a good chapter in our lives - despite the harshness of the living conditions we faced within her four walls. I never expected to again, so many years later, become a "city girl". Would I have chosen to do so? Very unlikely, for I did so love being in the country. <br />
<br />
There are many emotions surrounding the Blue Castle, and I have asked, "was it a mistake?" But I don't think so, I think it was part of a process. I should like to write more about this someday, but no promises.<br />
<br />
For now, goodbye country living. Goodbye little Blue Castle, goodbye forever. <br />
<br />
Am I making anybody cry? Just curious.<br />
<br />
Do I need more sleep? I think it very likely. <br />
<br />
T.W.TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-68146141381096974542012-07-05T15:19:00.002-07:002012-07-05T15:19:47.599-07:00It's the Words You UseMy grandmother and I were watching one of the those mystery shows when a commercial started. My grandmother gets very annoyed with those things and used this descriptive phrase to order me to hit mute: “kill them!” (Just as there were two guys on the screen too, poor fellows.)<br />
<br />
I pressed mute and then turned and looked at her, saying cooly “Are you ordering a hit?”<br />
<br />
See, I know the lingo.<br />
<br />
Ha, ha, she thought it was funny. But what put her into near hysterics is when I declared that I wanted some caramel at ten something at night. I’m glad it tickled her funny bone, but I have no idea why it was so hilarious. I really wasn’t suggesting that we get in the car and go get some. <i>Shakes head.</i> <br />
<br />
My sweet tooth is not a laughing matter. <br />
<br />TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-11637556630294682182012-07-03T18:20:00.000-07:002012-07-03T21:14:27.719-07:00HallooooooHello my dear friends, this is your long lost author checking in from far, far away. Far, far away is relatively speaking. Speaking of relatives, sometimes they are far, far away, and we’re not talking land miles... <br />
<br />
Changing subjects…<br />
<br />
I hit a case of writers block while editing so I went to a nearby library and checked out some investigation books to give me some food for thought. One of them was No Stone Unturned by Steve Jackson. I found it a most fascinating read and I’d love to find a couple copies; one for my personal library, and a copy to give to one of my brothers. Writers block solved!<br />
<br />
To catch you up on my sudden and long silence, I’ve been essentially gone from home since the middle of March. I returned to my home area for three very busy weeks, and then flew back out to stay with my grandmother again. I returned a week earlier than expected because she fell and broke her arm. I tell you, I just can’t leave that girl alone. ;) It certainly changed the dynamic of my stay here, for better or worse, I’m not sure. <br />
<br />
My family bought a house in town right after I left the first time, and they have been gutting it and fixing it up. I saw it before the deal closed, and it was horrible. Really horrible. They are having to take out floors, replace parts of walls, put in new windows, and even add more structural support underneath. If you’ve ever seen the T.V. show “Horders”, this house was in that category. It simply boggles my mind how anyone could live in such filth. The good news is that when the major job is done, I think it is going to be a perfect doll house. As crazy as it seems, I saw the potential even before the work started. Not that I didn’t have doubts – this was a major undertaking!<br />
<br />
Interestingly enough, the new place is going to be a lot smaller than the house on the mountain was supposed to be, and yet still sufficient to our needs. I’m actually thinking the smaller size is better. I’m looking forward to seeing the progress when I return home in a couple weeks. Well, I should say to the home area, because again, I don’t think I’m actually going home, but house sitting for a friend.<br />
<br />
You know, I suddenly thought about this, and I’m a little disturbed. You know the saying, “home is where the heart is? Well, with the way I’ve been living, it’s hard to classify that I have a home, and what does that say about my heart?<br />
<br />
Well, seriously, my heart is where my family is, whether or not we have a home. Which we do, actually, it’s just everything is in such a kerfuffle lately and everyone is going different directions that things are so hard to put in boxes. <br />
<br />
It’s a nice evening and my grandmother has requested a walk to the corner, and then I think I should finish weed eating. I even put long pants on in anticipation of this chore since that thing can be quite unkind to your legs.<br />
<br />
Tootle Pip,<br />
T.W.<br />TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-16666373525665068522012-04-18T19:10:00.000-07:002012-04-18T19:10:39.639-07:00You Think He Should Do What?My grandmother likes to watch Who Wants to be a Millionaire and sometimes I end up watching it with her. A couple days ago, the question of the day was something along the lines of “what word for extra-large has been added to the dictionary after it was made famous by a circus elephant?” A. Enormous B. Mammoth C. Gigantic D. Jumbo (By the way, I just really butchered that, but you get the idea).<br />
<br />
Of course, the answer was Jumbo. I knew that.<br />
<br />
After they gave the answer my grandmother turned to me and said, “That’s something I’ve always thought your father should do.”<br />
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I tilted my head to the side and looked at her in astonishment, asking the first question my mind associated with the subject, ‘ride an elephant?’ <br />
<br />
No. Apparently she thinks he should be on the T.V. program Who Wants to be a Millionaire. <br />
<br />
What a relief. Riding an elephant would have been coming from way out in left field. The whole T.V. thing I can wrap my mind around. I'm still really not sure why my mind jumped to the my first question. I'm still puzzling over it.<br />
<br />
Riding an elephant does sound interesting. Maybe I should try it sometime. It's a thought.<br />
<br />
T.W. <br />
<br />
<br />TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-53555982162478215212012-03-22T20:07:00.003-07:002012-03-22T20:07:58.205-07:00My ThursdayToday:<br />
<br />
Tried on the bridesmaid’s dress for a friend’s wedding this summer. I didn’t fit into the smaller of the two sizes offered me, which has nothing to do with the fact that this morning when I took a bite of the English muffin my grandmother had prepared, melted butter squirted out and ran down my chin. But if I don’t watch it, the ease in the size I ordered is going to be eaten up. Literally.<br />
<br />
We ate a sandwich in the car, then we went across the street for a powder room stop at Burger King. I ordered a water and two ice cream cones. Well, seeing as I only have two hands, I put the water in my purse and carried the cones in my hand. Genius? No. Bad, bad, bad idea. I’ve done it before with success, but not this time. By the time I was about to get into the car, most of the water was floating around in the bottom of my purse and soaking everything. A bit of a mess that.<br />
<br />
Did I mention that only about two hours later my grandmother decided she wanted ice cream again? I hold the warm weather responsible. If she gains twenty pounds, my aunt is going to hold me responsible. And where is the justice in that? Am I the one that buttered the warm English muffin, or chose the second ice cream cone? <br />
<br />
You are my witnesses. I mean, whose fault is it going to be if I gain twenty pounds?<br />
<br />
Perspective my friends, perspective.<br />
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Ciao<br />
<br />
T.W. <br />
<br />
P.S. I came home and exercised. It seemed like a good idea. They were small ice cream cones, it is just the principle of the thing.<br />TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-57740926530364700392012-03-19T09:25:00.001-07:002012-03-19T09:25:09.109-07:00Red Riding Hood ReportingThis is Red Riding Hood reporting in and so far no signs of Big Bad Wolf. Perhaps because I didn’t go through the woods? I got to my grandmother’s house on Friday, being welcomed by sunny warm weather.(and relatives)<br />
<br />
On the first leg of my flight, I had a lovely empty seat next to me and it was as good as first class. I popped the tray down in front of the empty seat next to me and put my glass of icy orange juice down as I relaxed in comfort, flipping through a magazine. I want the alarm clock that wakes you up with a butlers voice.<br />
<br />
Well, after being so spoiled, I was really hoping for another empty seat.<br />
It didn’t happen.<br />
<br />
I sat next to a young man on his way to a wrestling match. <br />
<br />
I was fairly sure I wasn’t to get my empty seat wish when it seemed every other seat was filled behind me and making their way down the aisle were two men, one older, one younger.<br />
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As they paused a few aisle in front of me, the father said to his teenage son, “you want to sit here, or next to the girl?”<br />
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Ya, snicker, snicker.<br />
<br />
Poor young man, I’m sure if he’d known I’d overheard he would have been mortified.<br />
<br />
Guess what Papa, I think you’re son is nine or ten younger than me. At least.<br />
<br />
Now who’s snickering? Me. Inside, as I keep a placid face and process what happens around me.<br />
<br />
I didn’t sit next to everyone on the plane so I couldn’t say for sure, but it turns out, if I could have chosen who sat next to me, that young man might just have been the one. He was just a nice, normal, all American boy. Traveling to a wrestling match, he was excited, but nervous. We chatted about his world travels (his mom is a travel agent), his great-aunt, my grandmother, and that we both loved Delta’s crisp spice cookies. Yep.<br />
<br />
And he may just have realized I wasn’t exactly a teenager.<br />
<br />
On the shuttle from the airport, I chatted with the only other passenger, a young college girl. It was a very interesting conversation. Mostly men, marriage, and dating. I can only imagine what the driver thought. Anyway, something tells me it must have been on her mind for a reason.<br />
<br />
To wrap things up, on St. Paddy’s day my grandmother took my aunt and me out for not corn beef and cabbage, but another good Irish meal, fish and chips. Remember this is on St. Patrick’s day. A young man came to our table and asked what we would like to drink. Being as this was one of those restaurants with a pub, the humor of my impending request tickled me, I looked up at him over my shoulder with a small smile, eyes twinkling, I said drily, “water.”<br />
<br />
(Can you say “water” drily?)<br />
<br />
“Boring,” he said.<br />
<br />
“Yes,” I agreed cheerfully.<br />
<br />
My grandmother ordered a Guinness - and didn’t she have the nightmares.<br />
<br />
Top of the morning to you,<br />
<br />
T.W.<br />TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8435472088047293955.post-21419717138094834762012-03-12T11:56:00.000-07:002012-03-12T11:56:13.418-07:00Tick TockI woke up sometime in the night with a brain overload and probably because I got too hot. I ditched the extra covers and tried to reprogram my brain to not stress and just sleep. It was a good start, but booming out into the darkness was the incessant <i>tock, tock, tock, tock</i> of not one, but two clocks. I tried to ignore the little tick tockers, after all, I had gone to sleep with the same exact sound. But in the middle of the night, suddenly they were annoying, incessant and very loud. <br />
<br />
Forget it. I got up, took the clocks off the wall, wrapped them in a blanket, then another blanket and stuffed them in a box. I went back to sleep. Blissful sleep.<br />
<br />
Come morning, the family was not amused with the sudden disappearance of the clocks, even when I explained what had happened to them. They didn’t understand at all. Except for my father, who thought it was funny, “not only did we lose an hour, but the clocks disappeared.”<br />
<br />
He chuckled and then unearthed the clocks from their blanket hush box and put them back into place. What a very nice guy.<br />
<br />
<br />
Happy Monday!<br />
T.W.<br />TWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05801249684723502974noreply@blogger.com0