Happy New Year's Eve to all!

Wishing everyone a safe and Happy New Year's Eve!

May this year be filled with good health, peace of mind and the love of family and friends!

Welcome 2012!

Bassets down.....

This photo was taken one day last week, on a rare occasion when all four basset hounds were laying down.

The top two are Oliver and Barney, daughter #1's boys.

Bottom, are Bentley and Dudley.

I sometimes wonder if I could walk all four at once.  Ummm, no.  I tried just holding all four by their leads (leashes, for non-British speakers) while my daughter got something out of her car.  And I was nearly carried off.  Seriously.  I had no idea basset hounds were so strong!!  And they "twist" better than Chubby Checker ever did - around, under and in between my legs.  So marching in pairs, as they did into the Ark, will continue to be the way to go!

In a quiet moment.....

 

Yesterday afternoon I held Baby C while her mother took a much needed nap, due to the fact that this little bundle of love sees no reason whatsoever to sleep.  At any time.  Especially during the night.

So while Miss M and an exhausted mother of two slumbered, I cuddled with this precious being.  She is one of the happiest babies I have ever known.  She gazes directly into your eyes as her face erupts into a giant smile.  And giggles!  I've discovered her ticklish spots and soaked up her laughter.  And she also loves to have her feet rubbed, and her back rubbed and have kisses smushed around her face and neck.

And I am so willing and happy to oblige.

Baby C and I snuggled and bounced and then she fell asleep on my chest.  I didn't dare move for fear of waking her.  And for nearly fifty minutes, I felt her breath rise and fall, and felt the tiny breeze emit from her tiny mouth.  And it was pure contentment.  For both of us.

As the song says, "These are the moments....".  I am so blessed, not only to have them, but to also recognize them as they occur.

Seriously?

To use an often quoted phrase of my eldest granddaughter, "Oh no! It's gawn!" (aka: gone)

Oh yes. It is.

No, not the squirrel.  The chain, from which the dried corn on the cob treat for the squirrel was suspended.

At first daughter #1 and I thought that perhaps the Englishman had moved it or brought it inside.

Apparently, he thought the same about me.

We compared notes and discovered that it had to be the work of some teeny tiny hands.

Can you believe it?  Talk about "biting the hand that feeds you"!  Here we were trying to do a nice thing for this rodent and he repays our kindness by stealing the silly thing.

So now the score is: Squirrel - 2  Humans - 1

The saga continues.........

Tip for a Tuesday....

Smile.

Cherish your good health.

Enjoy each and every day.

Realize how abundant your life is.

Tell those you love how much they mean to you.

Do something to make someone feel special today.

Reminisce about the good times with those who were there.

Always look for the positive.

You'll find it.  I promise.

I know.  LOTS of tips for today.  Just needed to say that.

Boxing Day

One would like to think of Boxing Day in England as being like this:

But I suspect it is more like this:

Similar to the U.S. "Black Friday" shopping experience which follows Thanksgiving.

In doing a little research, there seem to be varied reasons as to what Boxing Day actually means and why it is celebrated.  They range from it being a day in which the collections taken up for the poor in Alms boxes are distributed or the day the gentry presents gifts to their servants or a day off for paid workers who had to work on Christmas Day.

But in our house, it is simply an extension of Christmas Day.  We eat leftovers, watch movies, polish off the trifle and just generally relax.

Whatever the reason, I am grateful for another day of rest.  I also like to look back over the previous year and put myself in the proper frame of mind for the new year approaching.

I feel very blessed for all that I have learned and experienced in 2011 and am very hopeful about the future.  I sincerely hope you are as well!

Merry Christmas Eve!

Christmas Eve is a wonderful tradition in our home.  The Englishman prepares the most wonderful feast for all the family.  We will begin the meal with pulling Christmas crackers, usually done for Christmas dinner, but this is the one night this year we will all be together as a family.  Son-in-law has to work, but the Englishman has already put aside some goodies for him.

After donning our paper crowns, we share in a varied assortment of fish, ham, chicken, and vegetables, including sprouts, aka "green jobs".  Just when you think you can't possibly manage another mouthful, out comes the long anticipated trifle, loved by one and all.

I wish each of you a very Merry Christmas, filled with the best present of all - the " presence" of a warm and loving family.

A lovely surprise....

Daughter #3 arrived this afternoon for the Christmas weekend, along with her two basset hounds.  Talk about a full house!  As we were emptying her car, she shouted inside to me that there was a former student of mine outside, a girl named Angela.

I knew immediately who she meant and hurried out to greet her.  It''s been many years since she sat in my Third Grade classroom, but she looked just the same to me.  Only taller, all grown up and beautiful.  She had driven by the house - goodness, she drives! - and had stopped just to say "hi".

I was absolutely thrilled to see her.  She is now in college, in fact the same college daughter #2 graduated from, in the nursing program.  She seems very happy, family is all well, and she is still in touch with a few of the other students in my class that year.  She was surprised to hear I am a grandmother.  (Could it be I look younger than I am? nah) She asked after daughter #3, who was in the upper grades at the school then and spent a lot of time with her during an after-school class I held.

As it happens, I also ran into the mother of a former student in the supermarket yesterday.  He is now in high school.  For a Boy Scout project, he has been collecting items to send to the troops in Afghanistan.  He still remembers the soldiers we used to write to in class who were stationed in Iraq at the time, and he hopes to one day attend West Point as they did.  I was so pleased to hear that he is still doing something for the troops, all these years later.

It did my heart good today to know that these students still remember our time together with fondness.  We learned a lot in that classroom during those years.  I hope I was able to pass on much more to them than multiplication and spelling.  Isn't that what teaching is all about?

Just a couple of softies....

If you've been reading my blog since the beginning, you know that the Englishman and I have been doing battle with the resident squirrels in our yard in an effort to keep them from consuming all the bird seed we have put out.  We've tried a couple of different feeders and varying positions in the yard.  So far, it appears it's:  Squirrels - 1, Humans - 0

So yesterday the Englishman and I went off in "Big Red", his truck aptly nicknamed by my mother, and battled the holiday traffic to do a little shopping.  We went to the bird store and picked up a specially designed chain and corn cobs specifically for the squirrels.  Something about, if you can't beat them....

The Englishman set up the aforementioned contraption and here is the result:

At first, the little furry guy was a little skeptical.  He wasn't sure if he was being set-up, possibly for capture or a basset hound snack.  But after a couple of stare-downs thru the kitchen window,  which I won, he quickly got the hang of it as you can see.  He even has some competition from a fellow rodent who liked the look of this enticing treat.

I know, I know.  It seems crazy to be spending money on feeding these often annoying, and sometimes destructive creatures.  But hence, the name of this post.  The Englishman says we are just a couple of softies, feeling bad for any living creatures in need of food.  (Insects are the exception.  I have no interest in prolonging their lives.  Or snakes.)  So we will continue to feed the little guys, at least thru the winter.

The goal, with our change in battle plan, is that they will now leave the seed alone for the increasing number of birds flocking to our backyard.  Perhaps we will finally be able to even the score.  One can only hope.  Will keep you posted.

In the home stretch.....

After a marathon day of wrapping and tagging, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel....as well as the bedroom floor which has been covered with boxes, rolls of paper and ribbons.

Almost done.

Almost done in.

Feeling exhausted tonight, so I will keep this short.  But I had to blog.  It's the old Irish Catholic guilt thing.

'Night all!

Tip for a Tuesday....

It's a wrap!

Scrubbing floors is not the only back-breaking job around.  So is wrapping dozens of gifts.  I have spent too many hours stooped over my bed trying to wrap package upon package, finding myself with back and neck pain at the end of the ordeal.

Solution?

I started to use my ironing board!  It is the perfect height and the solid surface makes it much easier to tightly wrap both boxes and loose items with little effort.

Hang a bag on the narrow end for leftover scraps and place your tape and scissors on the other.

I have also found a weighted tape dispenser to be a sanity saver!

Stick a bow on top and "Bob's your uncle" as the Englishman would say!

Happy wrapping!

It's alive!

Now, even without the Englishman's smiles and sometimes snarky comments about my gardening abilities, I am quite aware that I do not in fact have a green thumb.  I'm not even what would qualify as a "week-end gardener".  Due to my upbringing I am in fact an excellent weeder, having spent many hours on my knees in the hot summer sun clearing flower beds on my parents' property.

But a girl can dream and I do have visions of one day having a kitchen garden and numerous flowering rose bushes.  In the meantime, I am quite proud of the plant you see above.  Not only is it alive and blooming, I've had it for three years.  Three whole years!  Hence, the sign next to it reading "Miracles Happen".   Well done me!

It is a Christmas cactus and was a gift from my future son-in-law.  When he presented it to me, I smiled and accepted it graciously and thought, "You poor man.  You obviously have far more faith in my gardening abilities than either I or the Englishman have."  And I was so afraid I would soon kill it, with kindness or over-watering, and hurt the young man's feelings.  But success has been mine, with a great deal of luck and restraint of watering can, and it has bloomed every Christmas since.

So I will continue to dream and build up my tiny army of herb plants which commute between the kitchen bay window in winter and the gardening table outside, which the Englishman purchased for me several years ago.  I'll admit that the two rose bushes I planted at the beach are struggling.  But I remember the advice my Dad used to give me and will "Have a little faith".  Besides, as the Englishman reminds me, we can always go to the garden center and buy new ones.

And then there were three....

The night the Englishman and I were preparing to go and tell my parents we were engaged, I suddenly turned to him in the car and said, "Now, I've said I want three children.  If that's going to be a problem you better let me know now."  His reply?  "Have the first one and then let's see how you feel."

Sixteen months later we had the first one.  After we brought daughter #1 home, I said, "Still want to have three."  Daughter #2 came along three years later.  But she didn't feel like a "last baby" as she grew.

Then came daughter #3.  By the time she was sitting up, I said "Now this child is definitely a last baby."

My "baby" has surprised me many times over the years as she has grown from a darling resembling a Pixie Doll to the beautiful woman she is today.  First, we certainly didn't expect a third baby to arrive six days past her due date, cutting it awfully close to Christmas.  Growing up, one would expect her to want to be like her sister nearest in age, but she insisted on trying to imitate the sister six years her senior!  

And funny!!!  She should have been on television.  She had the most infectious laugh and was quite the comedian.  Still is!

When she was a toddler, I gave her the nickname, "Shorty".  I just knew it was what my Dad would have called her, had he been alive to watch her grow.  On the height charts, she was in the 98th percentile!  As she grew and grew and grew, she soon passed her older sisters and is almost a hair taller than her Dad.  I think Shorty suits her perfectly!

Daughter #3 grew into an amazing woman.  She endured some tough times growing up, but has demonstrated incredible courage, strength and resilience.  She knows exactly who she is, what she wants to do and is not afraid to try.  She is very much like her Grandfather and Father in that respect.

Some of my most treasured moments of joy in life are listening to her giggle.  Truly.

Happy Birthday, Shorty!  May this year as you prepare to get married be filled with all your dreams coming true.  And may you receive from others the abundance of happiness that you have brought into all our lives!

Must See Christmas Films

After tucking granddaughter M into bed Monday night while babysitting, I was delighted to come upon "White Christmas" while surfing through the television channels.  Now the Englishman would probably tell you I've seen this film about a hundred times (only a slight exaggeration), but I still enjoy it - all of it - the dancing, the singing, the sets and costumes, and yes, even"the schmaltz".

If you've never seen it, give yourself a treat and look for it in the weeks to come.  I'm sure they will be showing it again.  Which they did that night, actually.  Right after the conclusion of the first showing!

So I started to think about what other films I try to view during this season and came up with a list.  These are in no particular order, only as I remember them. (Which seems to be harder to do these days...remember things!)

1. White Christmas - Love Bing Crosby's and Danny Kaye's version of "Sisters"
2. Love Actually  - trust me, watching Englishman Hugh Grant dance is reason enough
3. Home Alone - only because I love the house.  The Englishman always says "Only you would notice the candlesticks or those curtains in the background. "
4. A Charlie Brown Christmas - It brings back such wonderful memories and I love the message
5. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer - again, for the memories and the incredible graphics at the time it was made.
6. The Bishop's Wife - because I love Cary Grant (also an Englishman, notice a pattern?)
7. National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation - still makes me laugh
8. Ziggy's Gift - brings back memories of daughter #1, aged three, loving it and watching it over and over and over...
9.  Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol - again, childhood memories...
10. Muppet's Christmas Carol - hilarious, and I'm a huge fan of Michael Caine (oh dear, again, an Englishman)
11. Miracle on 34th Street - two versions, Natalie Wood and Mara Wilson - LOVE the houses
12. The Bells of St. Mary's - gets me every time the old priest sees his Irish mother - incredibly sweet
13. Polar Express - love the animation and the songs
14. While You Were Sleeping - just a sweet chick film
15.  It's a Wonderful Life - the angel is my favorite character

I hope I've inspired you to revisit a favorite or search out a new movie to watch.  I know what I'll be doing this weekend.  Enjoy!

The Christmas letter....

 

Searching to find that perfect card or present, especially at Christmas time, can seem like an insurmountable task.  Yet sometimes, even the smallest of gestures or the tiniest outlay of money, can in fact turn out to be a priceless gift.

Many Christmases ago, after I had graduated college and was living in the Boston area, I found myself in numerous Hallmark stores in search of cards for each of my parents.  I had no problem finding the perfect "To Mom" card, but the one for my Dad seemed to elude me.  Day after day I looked, but none of them seemed to express what I felt at that time.  Finally, I gave up and decided to simply write him a letter.

The letter I composed was several pages long and spoke from my heart.  I told him about the love I felt for him, my pride in being his daughter and the abundance of gratitude I held for all he had done for me.  I cried as I wrote it and whenever I reread it.  (The Englishman and my daughters will tell you, "That's a sure sign it's a winner"  when I start gushing.)

My Dad quietly read the letter that Christmas morning and thanked me when he had finished.  I could tell by the look on his face that it had meant a lot to him.  It would be a long time before I realized just how much.

My Dad passed away six years later, in the month of December.  I had absolutely no doubts when he left us that day that there had been any words left unsaid.  Because of the letter, I was confident that my Dad knew about the deep love I felt for him and what we had shared in our time together.

Several years after that, my mother gave me back the letter I had written.  She told me that my Dad had kept it since that Christmas morning, all those years ago, in the top drawer of his dresser.  She said that he would take it out from time to time and reread it.  What had seemed like a simple gesture at the time turned out to be a most precious gift, not only for my Dad, but for me as well.

Tip for a Tuesday....

What to wear?

After I gave birth to our third daughter and FINALLY finished dealing with morning sickness, I started thinking about the colors I was wearing in my choices of clothing.  I noticed on the days I wore bright reds,  vibrant greens or dazzling yellows, the girls seemed to notice and responded quite positively.  Truth to be told, I had a better outlook on the day myself while sporting bright colors.

So I kept up the practice as the girls were growing up.  When I returned to teaching, I noticed that even Third Graders were aware of my outfits and responded to my clothing, as well as accessories I would add.  I often made a point of wearing pins - little sayings, birds, Angels, Santa, etc.  The month of December often found me wearing red every day and sometimes a snowman vest, equipped with tiny bells which would jingle as I circled the classroom.

And now there are the grandchildren.  I babysat the girls last night.  As I sat down on the couch to hold Baby C, M immediately came over and inquired, "What's this?' concerning the snowman pin attached to my red pullover.  She fingered it many times as we watched tv together and smiled.

So I've decided to pull out the items I stashed away when I stopped teaching a few years ago and revive the tradition of dressing in bright colors.  With the dark days of Winter soon upon us, the timing is perfect. Fun not only for me but also for everyone around me.

Game on..........

Ok, so that pretty much says it all.  That's what I'll be doing tomorrow - watching the Army Navy game.

As a teen, I used to cheer for whoever I thought had a nicer uniform.  Seriously.  Having attended Catholic School all my life, I was pretty partial to the color blue, so Navy was usually my choice.

But that all changed in 1998 when one of my nephews began attending the United States Military Academy at West Point.  Since then this annual rivalry has become very important to me.  Army is now, and always will be, my team of choice. And I'm lucky to have such an understanding son-in-law, a former Marine, who accepts and forgives me for it!

In fact, my girls gave me an Army football jersey last year for Christmas, which I will be donning first thing tomorrow morning.

No matter who wins it will be wonderful to see all the cadets, from both academies, cheering for their  respective teams and forgetting, if only for a few hours, what may lie ahead for them when they fulfill their commitments to our country.  May God Bless each and every one of them!

But tomorrow:

GO ARMY!  BEAT NAVY!

Thursday's thought for the day....

     "If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs...."

                         

                          Rudyard Kipling

This is only part of the first line of a poem titled "If" by Kipling.  But it is the part that kept running thru my mind today.

Actually, the first thought that popped into my head as I approached the Fashion Center around noontime:  What was I thinking????  It's only a few weeks before Christmas and Lord and Taylor's is having a sale!  Are you crazy???

The parking lot was packed.  I mean there wasn't a space to be found, not even if you were willing to sell a kidney.  But I persevered.  For one thing, I had only a few items to purchase.  But more importantly, I had a 25% off coupon, with 10% off cosmetics - a rare deal. AND a $15 bonus card.  I had to shop!

There were women everywhere - all sizes, shapes and ages.  And each with a different level of patience and tolerance.

I don't know if it's because I'm a grandmother, life experience has taught me some lessons, or that I could hear the Englishman in my head whispering "Just relax", but I made a conscious effort to remain calm.  Boy was I calm!  I waited patiently to be waited on.  I smiled at each and every person I came in contact with.  I even joked with a gentleman seated at a make-up counter, asking if he was ahead of me and teasing that surely he must be looking for some makeup for himself.

And it worked!  I tried to exude an attitude of peace and goodwill and that is exactly what I received.  I made all the purchases I needed to and even got a bonus gift I hadn't expected from one of the cosmetic people.  Mission accomplished!

Of course, any additional shopping I may have to do will be accomplished online.  I'm not going to press my luck!

Tip for a Tuesday....

Ah, routine....

I was remembering the other day what it was like when I first started to drive.  It seemed as though there were a million things I was expected to do - all at once - in order to just transition the vehicle from park to moving.  And then there were all the things you had to do to navigate down the road to your destination - check your mirrors, use the indicator, brake, change radio stations....

It was overwhelming!

And yet, it seems it only took a short while before all those things became second nature.  After only a few short months I did them without much conscious thought and they became purely automatic.

Which got me to thinking about the routines in my life.

The things I do automatically, without too much thought or "push".

I used to think having routines was boring.  But trust me girls, you learn pretty quickly that in some areas of your life boring is good.  In fact it can be a real time saver.

So I follow the same routines when I get up in the morning and after dinner each night.  Things like writing in my Gratitude journal, laying out clothes for the next day, washing my face carefully and applying moisturizer that has time to soak in.  And slipping into comfy pajamas before sitting down to an evening of television and crocheting.

Routine can ease you into your day and ease you gradually out of it.  After a while it becomes a welcome habit and can free you up time wise.

So my tip for today?  Look for areas in your life where you can slip in some routine.  Do some of the same things over and over, day after day, till you do them automatically.  And enjoy the free time you find!

A Christmas Past....

Funny how, especially this time of year, something can bring you back to an earlier memory with such vividness it's as if it only happened yesterday. But this one didn't. In fact, it's been decades since this excursion happened.

It was my first Christmas season away from home, as a freshmen in college.  My roommate was feeling as homesick as I was.  To cheer us up, she suggested we take a trip into Boston.  I had never been there, so the prospect was both exciting and a little daunting.

We walked the mile from campus into town one Saturday morning to catch the bus to Boston.  (I know, girls.  Up hill.  Both ways.  In the snow. But I know for a fact it was a mile because my Dad had clocked it for me.) First stop after our arrival  - Jordan Marsh.  I don't even know if that department store still exists, but it was one of those must see stops if you were shopping in Bean Town.  Plus, I used to get a giggle when my roommate would pronounce the store's name, with her Massachusetts accent - Jordin Maaaarsh!  Another must see was the famous Filene's Basement.  It was overwhelming!  I'd never seen so many shoppers before! After admitting it was all just too much, I approached a couple of security guards and asked where the exit was.  They just laughed at me!!  Needless to say, I've never been back.

We spent the entire day going shop to shop and just generally exploring.  Now we were far from "comfortable" in those days money wise.   So it was very lucky indeed that my Guardian Angel had whispered in my ear when we first got off the bus, and I suggested to my roommate that we put the bus fare needed for the return trip in our shoes.  Literally.  Thank goodness, because as darkness fell and we wearily headed for the bus station, we discovered we had spent ALL our money, except for the fares in our shoes!

When we got back to the dorm, we unpacked our purchases. We strung the lights we had bought across the windows and decorated a little fake tree with lights and ornaments, all of which we had pooled our resources to buy.  It started to feel a bit more cosy in the room, with a touch of the familiar and comforting decorative accents.  We completed the scene by drinking Carnation hot chocolate ("borrowed" from the cafeteria) and watched "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" on a small black and white tv.  It had probably preempted the Mary Tyler Moore show that night.  (Who is Mary Tyler Moore?  If you don't know, you are too young to have watched one of the best series ever to air on television - I urge you to check it out on Hulu.)

My roommate and I actually talked yesterday on our cell phones - just shows how times have changed from the rotary phones in the dorm.  Seems we always pick up right where we left off, no matter how long between calls.  What a wonderful gift on a Sunday afternoon to laugh and share old memories.   May it always be so, for all of us!

A Visit With Little Miss

Our darling granddaughter, M, came to play at our house today.  We saw her last night at the Holiday Parade, and she was quite prepared to come over at the conclusion. But we told her she could come tomorrow and bake brownies.  As we walked home she said, "It's alright, Grandmom.  I, Meredith, will come help you."

Her Daddy dropped her off, as her Mommy was feeling sick.  She barely looked back as we entered the house.  I scooped her up in anticipation of the excited Basset Hounds.  She started to admonish them straight away, saying "Down boys, get down boys" in between giggles.

She quickly toured the house which I have started to decorate.  There were a few "wows" and "It's Christmas" as she wandered through the rooms.  The hit of the day were the characters from Rudolph.  Especially these two:

She was fascinated with making Rudolph's nose light up.  She played quite happily with them for quite a while, making up her own games with them.

Grandad made special tiny pancakes for lunch, with a syrup dipping sauce.  M decided it was much better to use her finger than the pancakes to taste the sauce.

And then, it was time to bake.  I've discovered that her real interest lies in using Grandmom's sink.  So there was much cleaning and pouring, and rubbing with a large bar of soap.  She did assist me in adding the ingredients for the brownies, but would quickly plunge her hands back into the soapy water.

While the brownies were baking, we made a "wreath" for Mommy.  M added stickers to a styrofoam wreath I purchased at Michaels.  All the stickers.  She said it would make Mommy better.

We gathered up our treats and headed out the door for the short walk home.  M commented on all the decorations she noticed on the neighbors houses and lawns.  She got very excited as we got closer, exclaiming, "It's my house!".  She knocked on her door and squeezed past Daddy to run to the couch.  "Mommy, Mommy, this will make you all better!" she cried.  A big hug and kiss from my daughter assured M that she would be alright now, thanks to her present.

These moments are so very precious.  How blessed am I that I realize that as they are happening!

Home for the Holidays

There is much excitement brewing in our little town tonight, as residents prepare for the Home for the Holidays Parade.  Streets are blocked off nearby so that the floats and band members can line up in readiness.  Several of our neighbors have put up decorations and it is starting to look very festive.

When our family first moved to this town, about 13 years ago, we were struggling with acceptance of having let go of our previous home and were feeling a little lost.  Coming to the Parade that first year gave all of us a real sense of belonging.  It also gave us blue lips, red toes and fingertips.  It was bloody cold that year!!!

We attended faithfully for the next several years, but have been slacking off as of late.  But the Englishman and I plan on donning our woolies and heading out shortly.  It's a quick stroll down to the "High Street", as he calls it.  (In England, they refer to the main street of shops as the High Street in each town or village.)

We might bump into one or more of our daughters, who grown now, also live in town.  Maybe there will even be a grandchild or two, with eyes shinning at the spectacle before them. And since it is a bit chilly out there now,  I think a mug of hot chocolate will be in order upon our return!

Thursday's Thought for the day....

"If the only prayer you ever say your entire life is 'thank you', it will be enough"

Meister Eckhart


I love this quote. I used to hang it right outside my classroom door. Level with parents eyesight, not the students. The kids always knew from the first day how I felt about gratitude. I confess, I was subtly trying to spread the message to their elders.

An unexpected pleasure....

On Monday morning, while diligently working in my office, the Englishman popped in and asked if I would like to go to lunch. My "to do" list that day was miles long, but I didn't hesitate to say yes. Because I have finally learned that spending time with my loved ones is the better choice. That if I don't wash the floor today or rake the leaves, those those things will eventually get done. And if they don't, that's ok too.

When I enquired where we were lunching, the Englishman got a huge grin on his face and said he had found a new Indian restaurant nearby. The Englishman loves a hot curry with the same fervor I feel for chocolate.

When we first entered The Brick Lane Curry House, we were feeling a little skeptical. There was an overwhelming smell of ammonia, as they were still mopping the floor. We quickly noted we were the only patrons. The Englishman suggested we go somewhere else but I was hopeful that it would all turn out well. Actually, it far exceeded our expectations!

When I was growing up, the only curry I had was when my mother made curried shrimp. Which was a simple white sauce with added curry powder. The Englishman has vastly broadened my culinary experiences since we met. I have become more adventurous, but do draw the line when it comes to hot sauces that cause me to gasp for air or have tears running down my face.

So I ordered the mild chicken tika masala, while he had a vindaloo sauce. Our meal was fabulous! We had the lunchtime special which included our main dish, rice, naan bread, two side dishes and dessert. All for ten dollars each! The service was also excellent. The waiter said they have only been opened for two weeks, but hope that word will spread. I assured him I would do my part. Later research found they are a chain, also located in several spots in Manhattan and Montclair, as well as the new location we went to in Ridgewood.

Now I know this post is getting longer, but I cannot fail to mention the rest of our outing. The Englishman and I strolled hand and hand down the main street of the town. We popped in a toy shop and made a purchase for Baby C's Christmas gift. And then ,we saw it. The cupcake shop I've been longing to patronise since sampling a bite of heaven at daughter #2's house. As I went to open the door, the Englishman said, "Oh shame. They're closed on Monday's". Fortunately I immediately detected that "That English sense of humor" and walked right in. The vision of cupcakes before me was overwhelming! But I zeroed right in on the chocolate mousse ones. After selecting additional cupcakes for family and paying for my purchases, I pointed out to the Englishman which cake would be appropriate for my birthday. Which doesn't roll around for several months. But I want him to be prepared with the proper information. I know he would hate to disappoint me!

Oh, right. I believe it's called The Cupcake Carousel. I just know it's the one next to the movie theatre. About a fifteen minute drive. Maybe ten, without traffic and exceeding the speed limit. Depends how desperate I am.

Happy Birthday, M !

Today my darling granddaughter, M, turns 3!  Where has the time gone?  As her mother says, she is a proper little girl now - no longer a struggling toddler.  And the joy and love I feel in my heart for her grows along with her!

I remember the day she was born.  As my daughter placed her in my arms, I gazed down at her and thought, "She looks so familiar.  And I didn't have to do anything!"  No pregnancy, no morning sickness, no childbirth.  And here was this tiny creature, who so resembled her mother and two aunts.  And all I had to do was hold her and love her.

So Happy Birthday, Little Miss - as your English Grandad calls you.  Thank you for bringing pure, absolute joy into my life.  You are truly a gift!

Before and after.....

As it happens, I can show you a "before"  dining room picture with a photo of our Thanksgiving table as it was coming together.

When we bought this house, one half of the first floor had been converted into small offices for a chiropractor.  After much work, we were able to restore the back entrance, the dining room, and a small office for me.  The pictures below show one corner area in the dining room that we worked on.

Thanksgiving dinner with our family was wonderful!  The Englishman cooked a fantastic meal (yes, I am that lucky -  he cooks!)  We celebrated the engagement of daughter #3, shared many laughs and cuddles with our granddaughters.  Our blessings are far too numerous to count!

I hope that everyone enjoyed the day and that gratitude still fills your heart!

We are happy to announce.....

The Englishman and I are thrilled to announce the engagement of daughter #3 to the love of her life!

They are perfect for each other!

And most importantly, this girl has given her blessing:

Details are yet to be decided.  The happy couple is still grinning from ear to ear.  Will pin them down in the nearby future for plans.

Thursday's thought for the day....

Just found this on someone's blog.  This is so true for me.  When my desk becomes covered with a blanket of papers, magazines and notes, I see it as a sign that I am slowly losing control over my surroundings.  And my life.  I know, despite many a struggle with it, that in reality there is so little that is actually in my control.  But my house and belongings are.  So last night I did a thorough sweep of my desk and can now see the surface.  Sometimes that's all it takes to turn things around and bring even a smidgen of calm to my soul.

Next? The kitchen.  With Thanksgiving looming, best to gain some control over that too.

Here we go again.....

They're back!  Yes, the Basset Brigade has reunited and are in my charge for the week while the Englishman and daughter #1 are away on business.

Now, I would like to say that this is how we look as we walk down the road:

But alas, this morning, while attempting to "walk" the two most energetic of the group, we actually looked more like this:

You can't believe the strength inside these stubby legged dogs!  It took everything I had to keep from flying down the sidewalk and into the construction site at the bottom of the hill.  Good thing I didn't have on roller skates!

And now it is raining.  Pouring with rain.  So fingers crossed that all the pent up energy has been dispelled and we can get through till bedtime.  Six and a half hours from now.  Yes. Yes, I am counting......

But in truth, look at these faces.  How could I possibly ever get upset with them?  They are all so sweet, eager to please and simply wanting to be loved.  So I've decided it's ok if we don't accomplish anything today.  Some days are for just being with "my boys" and counting my blessings.  (Besides, I did get my "Grandmom" fix earlier this morning with snuggles with my granddaughters.  So, "I'm good" as they say.)

Dudley

Bentley

Barney

Oliver

*Dudley and Bentley are the loves of the Englishman and I

*Barney and Oliver live with their Mommy, daughter #1

Tip for a Tuesday....

Just a note....

When I was in grammar school, my mother would pack me a special lunch on my birthday.  She would put in a birthday napkin and a note reminiscing about the day I was born.  It always made me feel so special.  When I became a mother, I decided to take that one step further.

Starting as young as pre-school, I would tuck notes in the girls backpacks.  If they weren't reading yet, I would write their name and draw a picture.  As they grew, I might wish them good luck on a test or presentation, or simply say "I love you".

But notes aren't just for kids.  The Englishman has been off on many business trips over the years.  I try to make sure to sneak a note into his suitcase or briefcase after he packs. (In fact, I stashed one in his bag this morning just before he left for the airport.)  When our girls were little, they would join in with their own special notes to Daddy.

Today's technology offers us numerous ways to be in touch, instantaneously.  But I still think there is something special about finding a hand-written note, with a reminder that someone is thinking about us and loves us.  Don't you agree?

Veterans Day

The Soldier 

It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate.
It is the soldier, not the lawyer, who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the soldier, who salutes the flag, who serves under the flag, and whose coffin 
is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag.

                                                                                 By Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC

I love this poem - I "borrowed" it from daughter #2, who posted it on her blog this morning.  Being married to a former Marine, it is very dear to her heart.

I must admit that growing up Veterans Day had not always been particularly important to me. My parents explained about the significance, and my mother shared stories about World War II from her experiences during war time and the young men she knew who served.  My father did not serve in the military, due to a medical problem. A friend of mine's Dad had been at Pearl Harbor.  Anytime I had dinner at her house and her Dad would indicate he was going to talk about the war, the family would groan and say, "Oh no, not again!" and he would remain quiet.  Which is a shame, really.  When I was in the Seventh Grade, a boy in our class lost his brother in the Vietnam War.  I can still see the pain in his face when he came back to school, and that he wore his brother's green fatigue jacket for the rest of the term.  

We never quite seemed to get to World War II in our history books before the end of the school year.  So it wasn't until my nephew entered West Point and I felt a personal connection, that I gave the military much thought.  After September 11th, it all become much too real.

When I first went back to teaching Third Grade, daughter #1 had just left for college, following her cousin who had entered West Point that summer.  I set up a "college corner", a bulletin board with names and photos and had the students write letters to them in order to work on "letter writing skills".  The students were thrilled when they wrote back. After they graduated, and my nephew went off to the war in Iraq, our writing campaign focused on him and several of his friends who were also serving.  A couple of years later, we added the then fiance of daughter #2, a Marine.  I think our list of names eventually got up to almost a dozen soldiers and Marines, two of them women.  After their tours of duty, my nephew and son-in-law were gracious enough to come and visit the students, patiently answering their questions and telling them how much they appreciated their support.  I hope my former students will remember the cards and letters they sent.  I still have the responses we received.

"Thank you for your service" seems so inadequate when you think abou the sacrifices made by the men and women who have served in our military, and by the families who love and support them.  But the soldiers and Marines I've known didn't do it for the "thanks".  They did it because they believe in this country, and in freedom, and in rushing in to help when the call is made.  They don't look for anything in return.  Is that the definition of a hero?  I think so.  You?

Thursday's thought for the day....

"Expecting life to treat you well because you are a good person, is like expecting an angry bull not to charge you because you are a vegetarian."

                                                                                        Shari R. Barr

Ground Zero

My Englishman and I traveled into Manhattan today to see the 9/11 Memorial at Ground Zero.  He booked the visitor passes on September 11th and we thought it fitting that the first available date was 9/11.  (In Europe, they put the date first, followed by the month.)

It was a picture perfect day as we set off, each with our own thoughts.  There was concern when we encountered bumper to bumper traffic approaching the GW bridge.  The Englishman maneuvered the Mini Cooper expertly between the tractor trailers and we were soon buzzing down the West Side Highway.  He attributed it to luck, I to prayer.

We approached the Memorial, passes in hand.  The line wove around like a snake as we neared the entrance.  There is security everywhere, but it is all very orderly.  Everyone, for the most part, is silent.  We guessed that the majority of people on line were tourists.  

Two things struck me as we walked around the Memorial.  When I first looked over one of the walls of names into the pool, there was this incredibly strong feeling that the water was being sucked down into the dark hole, in the same manner in which the Towers collapsed and were pulled into the earth. The second, was this almost palpable sense of quiet and of peace.

We found the names of some of the dozen men the Englishman knew who died that day.  I thought about them, and then found myself thinking about their mothers. I can't imagine the pain they have endured. One lost her only child, the other lost both sons.  

They did it right, we both said as we left.  That's how we felt.  It's right and it's fitting.

As we drove away, I commented, "It's been ten years.  I've just seen it and I still can't believe it's happened."  The Englishman said simply, "But it has."

Tip for a Tuesday....

Due to rather poor planning on every one's part, the months of October straight thru until the end of January are chock full of birthdays and holidays. When I married the Englishman, packages needed to be sent to England well in advance of Christmas and birthdays, so by necessity, I learned to plan, shop and mail with the appropriate customs forms early.  Very early.

As our family increased in size, so did the number of gifts needed to be purchased, wrapped and presented. In addition, I used to volunteer to pick up gifts for my mother or in-laws to give.  The list started to grow by leaps and bounds.  Fast forward a few years....

I remember, quite clearly, descending the stairs one Christmas Eve, with several packages in my arms and thinking, "I hope I haven't duplicated anything Santa is bringing."  Seriously.  No lie. I actually thought that.

It wasn't until I walked several more steps into the living room that I caught myself and realized what I had come to. That's what happens when you tell a story so often you start to believe it's true. Do you think perhaps I was feeling just a tad stressed?

So how does one keep from duplicating what Santa is bringing? Or keep track of all the dozens of gifts that need to be purchased and sent?  A small notebook!  It has been my lifesaver.

"The Notebook",  my gift version, hides out in my bedroom.  I mark the entries by year with each of our daughter's names.  I write down every gift I purchase for them, trying to do it as I buy them.  I note size and color, and particulars if it is part of an ongoing collection.  This has proved a huge help in seeing that the girls are fairly equal in what they receive.  In the back of the notebook, I have kept lists of teacher gifts, gifts for dance teachers, troop leaders, etc.  I also make note of tips for the UPS driver, hairdresser and sanitation collectors.  This has saved me a lot of time and worry each holiday.  No strain to remember, it's all in the book.

The notebook can also serve to prevent that dreaded scene in which you suddenly realize that there is a present missing, which must be still hidden somewhere in the attic or basement. I double check the notebook on Christmas Eve to be certain all gifts are wrapped and placed beneath the tree. Phew!

So that's my tip.  A notebook in which to keep track of gifts, sizes, color preferences, etc. Gift giving simplified!
Happy shopping!

Oh no, I missed it!

You know that line in "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown", when Sally laments that Halloween is over and she missed it? That's how I feel about the month of October.  It is my absolute favorite month of the year. I wait all year for it. But October is over.  And I missed it.

The reason? It's been due, in large part, to a cough I've been battling.  It started off, as it does for most people, as a cold. But after lingering and becoming more persistent each day, I finally threw in the towel and called the doctor.  Long story shortened, he was backed up with patients so it was almost a week later before I actually got in to see him.  Diagnosis: trachea bronchitis.

What?  Never heard of that one.  He said it is simply bronchitis in the trachea and upper regions, not down in my lungs.  I called the Englishman from the car park with the diagnosis. By the time I was back home he had already researched it and emailed me an article with more specific information.  Darling man! Thankfully I was given some medication and am slowly starting to feel better.  The coughing has subsided substantially and I, and my poor Englishman who has been listening to me for weeks now, are grateful for that.

So what's the lesson learned this time?  Well, for one thing, I need to accept once and for all that my lungs and other organs above the waist are obviously a source of trouble for me.  I need to pay closer attention to symptoms early on.  And I need to call the doctor sooner!

Lesson learned.  Counting weeks.  Only 47 weeks until October returns. (I didn't actually count it out on my calendar. You can "google" to find that information.  Isn't technology wonderful?)

Wonderful news!

For those of you who have been praying for Baby L,  I am very happy to report that she is home from the hospital, with her family and doing well.  Thank you so much for all your prayers!

Thursday's thought for the day....

"Anyone who has been through dark times knows there are moments when you can't think what, exactly, there is to be thankful for - you simply can't feel, in the depths of your heart, grateful.  When those moments pass, and when I look around, and feel that profound, heart-stopping gratitude for all that is right and beautiful in the world - well,  I'm grateful for gratitude."

                           ~ Dominique Browning

                So am I.  Having gratitude in my heart completely changes the way I look at life.

Tip for a Tuesday....

Lessons Learned from an October Snowstorm:

1. Sometimes, very rarely, the weather predictors actually get it right.

2. You can never have enough blankets.

3. Taper candles burn brighter than pillar candles.

4. You are blessed indeed if you have another residence to escape to.

5. Those who lived before electricity, indoor plumbing and heating have my undying admiration.

6. Always charge fully all electronics at the first hint of a storm.

7. Large cooler containers can hold an incredible amount of refrigerator contents.

8. Weather disasters can bring unforeseen gifts such as an impromptu sleepover with daughters and granddaughters.

9. Having a crocheting project already in the works helps pass the time and gives one a sense of accomplishing something.

10.Storms can instantly renew your sense of gratitude for even the smallest of blessings.

Hoping everyone made it safely through the storm!

Before and after.....

I am known in my family for my deep seated fear of heights.  That fear covers many areas, from bridges to balconies, motorways to mountaintops.  And I discovered it also covered staircases, when we purchased our retirement home.

As you can see from the photos, the original staircase had open spindles, which we quite wobbly.  Try as I might, I just couldn't get used to the sensation of falling every time I went up and down.  Now I'm practical enough to realize that wasn't a reason not to buy the house, which I otherwise loved.  So after we started staying there, I hung large quilts on the bannisters upstairs so I couldn't see how far I would fall should they give way.

That didn't really seem a long term practical approach to the Englishman, so we brought in a professional and had it done up properly.  This is the result.  The carpenter raised the height of the banister going up the stairs in addition to using larger spindles.  He then built a half-wall on the top landing and at his suggestion, covered it in bead board.  Not only does it feel 100% secure to me now, it also looks fabulous and in keeping with the relaxed beach theme I'm going for.  It also gives peace of mind to middle daughter and I concerning the grandchildren.  

Good decision, as they say.