Merry Christmas and catching up

(This photo was taken last year, and yup, we're having the same awful cold, snowy, icy, windy winter weather as December of 2007. Sarah Jane loves it.)

Long time between posts, huh? It's been a busy time, full of work, play, shopping, an historic presidential election, holidays (three of them!), birthdays and lots more.

Halloween was no big deal, as usual. The high point was when the kids came by (Mike stayed home to hand out candy), and Luke sat on the step with Sarah Jane and said, "I love this dog." Beautiful.

Thanksgiving was weird, but it almost always is. One year I made meat loaf (a specialty of mine), homemade potato salad (ditto), and we took it all over to mom's. We thought it was pretty neat, but not everyone else did. This year we stayed home, and we thought mom was going with a friend to another friend's house only to find out at almost the last minute that she wasn't going anywhere. We felt bad, and eventually my sister-in-law made up two trays of food to take over so at least there was a semblance of a Thanksgiving meal. Like I said, weird.

Christmas is less than a week away, and more than a few of us are sick. I've had a horrendous cold or something for almost a month. I've missed some days at the office this week (which I'm sure they appreciated because no one wants to be around a constant cougher/sneezer/germy person.

We've done some shopping and I know what I'm getting. Can't wait to open my bread machine; I've already bought some box mixes, and I want to learn from-scratch recipes too. Should be a blast.

We're supposed to go to mom's for Christmas Eve, but she's sick now and it usually takes quite a little while for a cold to work its way through for her. Tonight she's dealing with a temperature, coughing, that sort of thing. I pray she gets well quickly.

Here's a shout out to all my friends and family. Know that you're in our prayers, our hearts, our daily thoughts - you're loved and we hope to see you soon.

Yowza, what a day

OK, it's not exactly a bad day. Yesterday had its moments; quite a few of them, in fact.

Today, Saturday, it's typical for Illinois as we head into the last week of October with Halloween coming up this Friday. Love that day, just love it.

Another of his birthdays went by without a word. Last we saw of him was December, 2002 in a Peoria truck stop. It was a weird gathering, really, and those feelings we were having turned out to be legit.

That would be the last time we saw our oldest son. We really hope he's alive and well and we pray for him. What's especially hard is when we hear about this young man or that one whose identity isn't known, but the police found a body. It seems like I hold my breath until the details come out. I think I grow older a little faster each time that happens. Why, why can't he just let us know that he's OK? We'll settle for that.

Pondering on a gloomy autumn day

Hello to the class!

Hi everyone!
Hey, maybe it's time for you to start your own blog. Share your day, your week, make plans for upcoming reunions, show off pictures - you know, get closer to family and friends who have moved away.
It's easy to do this - just ask and we'll be happy to help you! It's a perfect way to add to your memoir.

Margi

Taking the time to spend time - together

Wonderful time together with "the girls" today - shopping, talking, sharing.

These are the memories I'll treasure, when we're doing more laughing than crying, not that anyone cried today. Oh, wait. I did.

We added prayers to our prayer lists. We built one another up, met fun people and shopped just a little. We know very well that it's not about spending money - it's about spending time with each other...just because.

Memorial Day and memories and gardens

I can hear the neighbor's lawn mower buzzing. Every few minutes, the police scanner breaks in with news about a fight, someone speeding, or some complaint that can't wait.

It's summery today, and I think the garden's going to get planted. At first I wanted a big garden, like mom used to have, then later, like hubby's dad's. He grew every bit as much as my mom did; well, maybe not. She grew eggplant and he didn't, but that's OK.

I wanted to have lettuce, cantalope, radishes, onions, tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, peppers. We're getting all of that except for the lettuce, cantalope and potatoes. And that's OK, too.

When the garden shows some growth, I'll post pics here. With food prices so high, it'll be nice to be able to go out and pick our own.

It doesn't have to be Memorial Day weekend to bring thoughts of those who aren't here. I miss my mom, friends who've gone ahead, Aunt Doris and Uncle Ray, my father-in-law, and I also miss friendships that have gone astray. More than anything, hubby and I miss our oldest son - we haven't heard from him in over 5 years. It's a heart-wrenching thing to live with, not knowing if your child is alive and well, or, well, not.

Here's hoping someone will read this and get the message out: we miss you, and want you to call home. The number's in the book.

New month coming up and we're ready

Gosh, I wonder. If we knew what was going to happen on any given day, would we even get out of bed, or would we just wait until a better day showed up?

I guess I'm tired. I'm physically and mentally worn out. Today, at 2:20 p.m., I finished the script with my writing partner and we alternately laughed and cried. It's the hardest writing - by far - that we've ever done. Script-writing is far different than any other kind, and I think we may be hooked on it. I mean, we're talking about writing a pilot script so we must like the genre.

But we worked so hard on this. We love the show we wrote for, we put our heart and soul into this project, and when we crossed the finish line, my friend burst into tears and I just felt numb. Weird.

We have our winning certificates, we'll probably frame them (they're gorgeous), and then we'll combine her half with mine, do some editing and a bit of re-writing, then prepare it for send-off. After that, we have the best idea for a pilot. It's a winner, trust me on this.

New look, same blog

Yup, it's the same blog - I just fancied it up a bit. I love it.

It's getting to be that time. I should get back to work, but I'm tired. The fog is still here, and it brings to mind a scary thing mom used to say when it was foggy outside. "Nice night for a murder," she'd say, pulling the kitchen curtain aside and peering out into the night. What a kidder.

Funny, mom really didn't laugh much. She preferred horror shows above all else, and I never could figure that out.

That's the way I used to feel. Now, though, I think I finally understand why.

Wondering about things on an early Tuesday morning

Fog today, and the chill goes to the bone even though it's in the mid-30s. At 6 in the morning, though, that's not bad in mid-March.

I was thinking about family birthdays (our youngest will turn 32 this month), and I realized that it doesn't seem all that long ago when I was his age.

And that brought up another memory - that was about how old I was when I saw my dad for the first and last time.

We'd taken our oldest on his second birthday to see his grandpa. Clint was a happy two-year-old, checking out everything in dad's house, having a blast being in a place that was new and exciting. Hubby and dad had a beer or two together and chatted for quite a while. I, on the other hand, wasted the entire time sniffling on the couch - I couldn't seem to stop the tears. I'm kind of mushy that way.

It had been hubby's idea. He wanted me to see my dad, and I really believe it's because he had a normal childhood (and by normal I mean having a mom, dad and siblings who all got along - at least most of the time).

He knew that mom, sis and I had struggled over the years just to eat and stay warm and he didn't want me to hold that against anyone, least of all one of my parents.

He was right.

When parents divorce, and the one you end up with does nothing but speak badly about the other, it's too easy to build up bitterness, mistrust and anger toward the absent parent. I wish mom hadn't done that, and it didn't help that her siblings jumped at every opportunity to do the same. Who knows what kind of relationship I missed out on simply because grudges were born and held for decades?

Anyway, I eventually did find out when my dad passed away (though I didn't get that information until nearly a year afterward), but I forgot when he was born. I'll have to go back to the obituary to find out.

And the reason I want to know? I think it's important to send up a prayer of thanks because without both dad and mom, I wouldn't be here and although my childhood was too often a nightmare, I survived and I love my life and most of the people in it.

Ugh, it's that time of year again - DST

Why? Can someone explain why we need Daylight Savings Time to start early?
It was bad enough we started the whole thing in the first place, but last year there was an experiment to see how much energy we could save by beginning this awful practice early and ending it late.
I'll tell you something, I haven't been the same since the weekend. Sunday flew by, Monday I was so sleepy I couldn't see straight, and today my motivation is out the window. I desperately need to take a nap, but don't feel I can afford it.
The column had to be written, and there are three articles to get to, and I'm thrilled the column is indeed finished.
It was easy to write the piece once I realized that my mind has been stuck somewhere in the past for the past few days.
There's a wedding picture of my mom and dad that hangs on the wall in the foyer alongside the stairs. I got to thinking about them the other day, got out a folder with some notes I've taken over the years (with the thought of using it in my memoir). Reading about our days in Sheffield, mom's illness, her side of the family, and looking at pictures stirred up feelings that had to be put down on paper. I will add those notes to the originals, and put something together in a week or so.
Maybe being tired and introspective isn't such a bad thing. Some memories are comforting, and those are the ones I plan to visit.
Gotta go. Time for a nap.

Fixing the house and waiting for spring

It's hard coming up with a topic for this week's newspaper column. Of course, I could write about the dog - most of the readers seem to love hearing about Sarah Jane, but she hasn't done anything remotely stupid over the past few days. I'm sure she'll come up with something soon, though.

Looks like a shopping trip coming up in a few days, and, as usual, I'll spend my time in Barnes & Noble. I'd live there if they'd let me. Coffee, treats, books, magazines, music - what's not to love?

We're still working on the house. I should say that hubby is doing most of the work, now that he's retired, and I *go* to work - finally at a job I love. The people are fantastic; they're friendly, compassionate, smart and funny.

We're waiting, somewhat impatiently, for our friends to return from Florida. They seem to have found something there, and I remember one couple telling us that there are a lot of Kewanee people living there year-round. We lived in Arizona for over six years, and I wasn't thrilled. Hubby and the kids loved it; I hated it. But Florida sounds colorful, and of course, there are the beaches, something Arizona lacked.

We'll see. It depends on the housing market in our area, which really hasn't been too awful. There is still quite a bit to do to get the place ready, but we're getting there.

Time to move? Maybe.

Here it is, the 7th of March, and we're still waiting for a break in the weather. Oh, we had a taste of what 50 degrees feels like a few days ago, but it seems like a distant memory now. We've really had it this winter; it's hung on too long, our power bills are through the roof and places like Florida and Arizona are sounding like Heaven.

Maybe it's time for the good life - balmy breezes, sunshine, joining friends who've already experienced warm winter months instead of week after week after never-ending week of frigid temps and howling winds.

Even the dog doesn't much care for the cold and the snow.

Yup, it's time to start looking. Life's too short to spend this many days holed up in a house that never seems to get warm enough.

A post from Kewanee, Illinois

Well, we're into the dreary days of mid-winter...blech.

The skies are gunmetal gray (I love that term, even though I hate the color). Winds are picking up, but most of the snow has melted because of a lovely couple of days with 60-plus degree weather. I know we all loved it; well, most of us did.

Enough about the weather. Let's talk dogs.

Sarah Jane will turn 2 on the 25th of this month. She's still a handful, and we love her to pieces. Snow wasn't a problem for Sarah this year, thank goodness. She walks every day with hubby, around the park, around the house; she can take the cold pretty well, but she doesn't much care for rain and sleet. Who does?

I still miss our Max. That dog had a wild ride in Life. She came up from Texas, and though she was a pup when she arrived, we didn't have much of a hand in her initial upbringing. I'll always wonder if she would've been a bit different, more tolerant of other dogs and people and even cats if we'd raised her from the get-go.

For a short while, a very short while, she and our dog Cujo got along reasonably well. One night Max just suddenly decided she wanted to be the boss and she attacked Cujo. For the next five years we had to keep the pooches separated and that took a toll on everybody.

Cujo tore up the floor in the back room where she had to stay while Max was out. Max was stressed inside her pen (where she spent far, far, far too many days) while Cujo was out. Max did try to make friends with one of the cats, but Spook scratched the dog once too many times and after that, we worried that Max would kill the cat.

Max was such a good dog after Cujo died. She didn't seem to have any ill effects from spending so much of her life in a pen. When she suddenly became ill and died two days later (on Mother's Day almost two years ago), we were devastated. We loved her so much.

Max had a way of looking right through you. She understood certain words and phrases, and we knew our house was safe with her inside. And, she was beautiful to look at, very much like a wolf.

We have Sarah now, a yellow lab-mix, a much more active dog than we're used to. Cujo and Max couldn't care less if we were home or not, as long as there was food and water in their bowls, and someone let them out to go to the bathroom. They weren't the cuddly type.

Sarah, on the other hand, thinks that she should be the center of everyone's world. And she's huge - 90 pounds, and we've never had a dog that big. But her heart is just as big, and we love her, too.

Guess I'll go now. I hope with all my heart that if our son is out there somewhere he will see this blog and it will give him one way to keep up with his family. We miss him, and wish he would at least let us know that he's OK.