Serendipity

Valentine's Day: As a child in grade school, I can remember the excitement of coming home a day or two before Valentine's Day to find a brand new, unopened box of those little miniature Valentine cards (with those tiny little envelopes) that I would hand out in school during our party to my classmates. There was nothing like looking through all the cards and sayings while breathing in the smell of new paper! On the day of the party, there was so much excitement when handing out the Valentines to my classmates, sticking each one into a handmade Valentine mailboxes or huge heart-shaped envelopes (depending on the teacher and what we chose to make) that we had made and scotch-taped to the front of our desks. It was a lot of fun delivering them, but even more so opening the ones that I'd received! Once in Junior High (7th & 8th grades) those parties ceased. If I gave out Valentines it was strictly to those friends that I was close to...primarily m...

one kind of paper dolls I had as a child It's sometimes very strange to me to find that I can remember stuff from when I was a little girl...some 50+ years ago, and it's even stranger still that those memories still give me a sense of fondness...and loss. What spurred this particular memory, I can't say, but I know that the other day I was thinking about how much things have changed over the years. So many of the toys that I cherished as a child have come and gone...or been revamped and modernized so that they no longer look the same or even work the same. Such is the case with paper dolls. I can remember being in love with these things...probably as much as I would eventually love my first Barbie doll!  I remember sitting and playing with my paper dolls for hours on end. They were such a curious fascination for me...heavy cardboard dolls with little stands, clothing made out of a glossy but somewhat stiff paper...and then being able to simply change the outfit ...

Thanksgiving has always been about being together as a family and as we approach Thanksgiving day tomorrow, I can't help thinking about how things have changed over the years of my life. While memories can give us solace at times, it also gives me a sense of sadness too. As a child growing up, the holiday season...Thanksgiving and Christmas meant family get-togethers with a huge variety of foods...enough to last for days afterwards. Turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, squash, cranberry sauce, breads of all kinds and of course the pies.  Lots of pies. Pumpkin, blueberry, mincemeat, apple, cherry, pudding pies...yummy! In those days, the house was full of laughter and good conversations between my parents, aunts and uncles, and my cousins and I. Good times. As I went into adulthood with my own children in tow, I tried to keep that family tradition alive during the holidays, with the large varieties of foods and the large selection of pies for our desert later; tried to...

I had a swing like this when I was a small child Today I saw a photo of a swing on Facebook and it reminded me of the one I had when I was a little girl of about 5 or 6.  With it came a flood of timeless days swinging and swinging and swinging my days away.  And it also reminded me of a incident which would forever more change how I viewed and swung on that swing. My dad made the swing for me, from a limb of a huge old tree...the tree which was for the most part the center of a row of trees that lined a steep bank that was several feet above a ditch. I can remember swinging out over that ditch...and out over the edge of the road...just a little...feeling like I was flying. Being the only child at the time, it was up to me to amuse myself. The tree swing was my most favorite thing...I can remember getting up early in the morning, still in my pajamas and going out to swing until my mom called me back inside. From my perch there on the swing, I had a wonderful view...

Ever restless sky For the past handful of nights, I have not been sleeping well, and definitely have not been sleeping restful or through the night. My mind refuses to shut down, I toss and turn...with many things running through my mind.  This is something that's not new, but comes and goes according to what may be bothering me in my awake hours. Even then, not everything that is bothering me keeps me awake....I guess it depends on "how much" I am troubled by whatever.  Last night, my mind kept playing over and over my time spent in Wisconsin. I am still at a loss to explain how something that had started-out so well, took a turn for the worse in such a short time. Yes--I know a lot of it had to do with untruths that he told me, and also that his personality was too often very grating, demanding and selfish.  But I couldn't help but think of the good times we did have. He made me laugh...laugh harder than I've laughed in a very long time. He taught me ...

When I was a child, Easters were much different than they are now.  Time has commercialized the holidays, and this one is no different.  There is some sadness because children today, aren't taught what Easter is really all about. As I child, I was brought up not only in a religious household, but a dual one...my dad was Catholic and my mom was Protestant.  I learned both religions, as well as learned their differences.  But that is of little importance to the memories I have of those childhood Easters. Easter was celebrated knowing it was when Jesus was resurrected, but also we knew that the Easter Bunny came too...bringing sweet treats in baskets overflowing with green plastic (or paper) grass. It was a time to color eggs, and decorate them with stickers and whatnot.   As well, it was a time for getting a new Easter outfit, which for us girls, would include not only a dress, but a hat and even gloves, so that when we went to church, we were dress...

Writing is the most powerful way I know of to sort through all the inner voices. ~ Rebecca Maddox As a teen, I did what most teens did by keeping a small diary of my days at school, my crushes and frustrations with school mates, but it wasn't until my second marriage that I started journaling again...because I felt so lost, so miserable inside, and needed a place where I could find some small piece of sanity.  A place where I felt at peace. For the duration of that marriage, some 11 years, I filled literally dozens upon dozens of spiral single, three and five subject notebooks, and as each one was finished, I placed them on my book shelf.  I had no fear of being spied upon by my husband or step-children because they had no interest in what I was writing.  I had learned a tip from reading about journal-keeping: what's obvious isn't interesting to others.  Hide a diary, then others will want to know what it is you are writing about....