There was an old woman who lived in a shoe>> >

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn't know what to do!
So she gave them some broth without any bread,
And she whipped them all soundly and sent them to bed!

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had plenty of children to tell her what to do!
They feed her, sit with her and give her meds,
And take her church & all around town,
then kiss her tenderly as they put her to bed!

There is no way to properly understand the trial
of
Alzheimer's Disease (The Brain Killer)
unless you are living it.

The horror of knowing there is NO cure and
treatment is nothing more than false hope unless
all of us prior to reaching 60 want to start taking
what is available.

This must be our trek, our pioneer journey that will not end until Mother has passed through the
veil.... once again to see her beloved Mother
lost to her in her childhood to the other
dreaded horror... cancer.
The blessing of it all is the compassion that rises
to the top.
The feelings of Charity race to our hearts and souls
to protect, guide and nurture
Our dear mom who lives in a shoe..........

Cause and Effect

A Mini Lesson by Diana Dell, Ed.S.

A cause is something that makes something else happen. Out of two events, it is the event that happens first. To determine the cause, ask the question "Why Did it Happen?"

An effect is what happens as a result of the cause. Of two related events, it’s the one that happens second or last. To determine the effect, ask the question "What Happened?"

I have watched 3 years of things happen that have not helped our country.

No lists, just tell me.... What happened?

Not 8 or ten or 20 years before..... just the last 3..........

Cause and Effect.............

Storing glue sticks

Is the storing of glue sticks a common practice in your home?

Perhaps you have come to discover what I have.... They are still there when you want to pull them out, they take up space ( small yes, but space anyway) and mostly are all dried up and useless. Hating to waste anything, even though I was not even a twinkle in anyone's eye during the great depression, I will toss a little nearly gone glue stick into a cupboard.

After this discovery of stored dried up glue sticks I have decided...
the storage of useful things will be on my list this year.

Such as food, water, fuel, first aid stuff, kindness, tolerance, and stuff like that.

You see, just like my dried up old glue sticks...

I have been known to hang on to and pull out old dried up hurts and resentments.
The useless hard feelings are just stuck away waiting till the right moment to be hurled to the forefront of my brain and heart.

Which is the exact place I want to be thinking "happy thoughts" as well as contemplating and planning some random act of kindness.
Filling the archives of my brain and heart with valuables such as tenderness, understanding, compassion, tolerance, and the under valued treasure of Charity is my desired goal.

From now on when I come upon a glue stick that still has value I put it to good use then toss it so it does not become something I don't want cluttering my cupboards.

From now on when I come upon a left over pain of the emotional kind, I will put energy into tossing it out and replacing it with tender reminders that we each have our own path here in mortality. At least I will try harder~!

I love the word Journey: "A set amount of travelling", and as I travel I learn.

I have a purpose as well as resources.

Putting to work the resources available to me for personal growth actually works to benefit everyone else.

Oh How I LOVE to clean out the closets and cupboards and get rid of the useless glue sticks.
It feels SO good !~!

Eyes in the back of my Heart

My eyes in the back of my heart take me back to Christmas.
The fleeting flash of a huge band of cousins standing at an aunts piano singing Christmas Carols seeps from my memory bank from time to time.
French Hot Chocolate and homemade cookies from Grandma's house open the flood gates of sincere joy and smells I still find lingering in the air especially at this time of year.
We cousins ran and ran through the tiny hall into the living room and through the hall again. Drinking from beautiful tea cups and saucers, just like all the grown ups,
Oh how we knew our Grandma loved us.
Her beautiful homemade cookies made weeks in advance were kept in ZCMI boxes
out in her cold back room.
Homemade crocheted hangers and dishtowels as well as slippers were the gifts Grandma intently worked on all year long so each person would have some treasure to unwrap and take home. Small golden books were given to the small kiddies.
I still see myself as a toddler sitting on her lap in her rocker as she read Humpty Dumpty Books to me. That rocker resides in my house, although my son thinks it is his:)
Ok, It is his~!

One very vivid Christmas memory for me was when I was about 11 years old.
I remember getting so many things I could not see my bed after I laid it all out. I also, distinctly recall the feeling of being so embarrassed over my collage of do-dads, trinkets and expensive clothes.
As we did in "those" days, my sister and I went from one friends house to another to check out the Santa trail. As we all wandered in and out of each others homes we two returned to ours knowing we had more than any humans fair share given to us for Christmas.
I came to understand my parents worked and shopped hard for months in advance to find
exactly the right item for each of their six children. Then Christmas morning they just watched with complete utter happiness as we took turns unveiling every treasure.


Now, as I near 60 years of age I am seeing more and more through the eyes in the back of my heart. These eyes now see what my heart always knew and recognized as love and devotion. Each package give, each treasure sought for in order to GIVE and make Memories was a success.
Those eyes in the back of my heart know how precious all gifts are no matter the price tag.

The Wonderful Wizard of ...???

Think about The Wonderful Wizard of... and then

Imagine, when you do arrive at his back door, he will have to tell you (all of you) he had just what you needed to get you home all along. Did you forget, or just not notice?

All the same, you are probably still hoping that some "big" magic guy out there at the end of the Yellow brick road has all the answers... cause I am. In fact I am planning on it~!

I hate the idea of flying monkeys though, and having to dance and sing with tin guys or lions and tigers and bears to worry about. And then there is the thing about a witch who is actually in charge of those creepy monkeys.

And, if you are not really careful there are poppy fields just waiting to add to your frustration and slow your progress.

It just sounds so complicated and scary if you think about it. The whole idea about being lost from home and trying to get back and alone no less, then joining up with a few curious souls, magically joining arms and skip along to find the one who has the only answer.

One lovely thought is that of tiny almost unrecognizable helpers who show the way.

Where the heck are my Muchkins (?) and other important questions.

1. Am I taking others with me? Joining up with my fellow lost souls, skipping through life together in hopes making the journey back the safest it can be while avoiding the scary monkeys and the owner of said monkeys?
2. How long has it been since I really thanked a munchkin?
3. Do I fall asleep in the poppies too long letting important time be wasted?
4. Do I have what it takes in my memory bank or faith bank to spur me on when my
good fairy is letting me struggle?

Boys to MEN

Once upon a time I had house over run with little boys who eventually became, two by two, medium boys, then all at once I had a passel of 8 men who left... one by one.

Huge furry faced, burly, and not so burly, rough and tumble "Men"
Venturing out into the world to make a splash or bang or pop or a big "wow here I am world".

My little guys who used to wrestle with me, whine for my attention and beg for more cookies just emerged from cocoons of constant need to a world of their own.
A world, on a count of me being a girl, I had little idea about what was really going on.
AAAGGGGG and YIKES>>>>

It isn't like I had no idea the day would come, that moment in time when my stinking nest would be
EMPTY:(
I knew, just like we know we will eventually have to face wrinkles, or a broken down
car in the middle of highway 0 headed due south.
But did I look forward to it? NO and YES.
Because with every sorrow comes a goodie.
Bye bye sons>>> Hello Grandkiddies!~!!

Ever noticed how well behaved the grands are when the parents are GONE out for the night?
Then we can get to the business of eating junk and watching TV or just doing NOTHING for a long time with NO parents.

I adore my sons.... never underestimate the ability of a near 60 year old
Mother bear.
I would fight to the death, rescue any one of them anytime day or night,
feed and nurture them right up to the point of being told off...
with never a regret, never a hesitation.
You must understand the arms of a mother never cease to rock and cradle her children with
the Love of God.
Her vision and comprehension expands all horizons of electronics, time and titles shooting
straight to the heavens above.
Oh, nothing makes me smile brighter or my heart sing more sweetly than to see the
tender, simple, strong, loving
Men who were once my boys.

Restoring Courage

Years ago, after dark, in the summer months,
I could be found in our front yard barefoot...garden hose in hand watering every inch of the grass for hours.
In the house were small and medium size humans I called my kids. I usually prayed they were sleeping, not tossing each other and food around. Sometimes the prayers made their way to heaven, other times, well, who knows what happened to them.

Tonight while watering some dry spots on our grass, with bare feet, a wave of tender courage washed over my soul, realizing how connecting with mother earth seemed to restore my courage to face a new day, way back when as well as tonight.

My days are different, trials have changed and new pains attached to the art of living...but the truth remains.
Time spent talking to God, feet planted firmly on his green earth, just steps away from reality is still my recipe for Restoring my Courage.
Try it on for size in the world of automatic sprinklers and such.