tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-306107112024-03-07T20:15:07.530-08:00A Walk in My ShoesDarlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.comBlogger371125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-61168832726283137472008-07-18T12:31:00.000-07:002008-07-18T12:40:24.494-07:00A Walk in My Shoes is now...<span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>Gypsy Girl</strong><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;">Journal & Poetry</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">Find me </span></strong><a href="http://gypsygirlsjournal.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>here</strong></span></a>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-44673798451859540942008-07-04T03:15:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:47.886-08:00fresh beginnings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQCf-ru5h3iNV8x_OC8sZEbcCBTap5lwr9jKBu141CsgLQCQ44L6xoywG9jjhkgt5UpuQ7xHKekgwKJwvLm1ngr723thFjoalB9iL6hFPh1ycng8Tnwg5gszMhhNWbxsOJBS6O/s1600-h/DSC_7223.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219101182784284962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQCf-ru5h3iNV8x_OC8sZEbcCBTap5lwr9jKBu141CsgLQCQ44L6xoywG9jjhkgt5UpuQ7xHKekgwKJwvLm1ngr723thFjoalB9iL6hFPh1ycng8Tnwg5gszMhhNWbxsOJBS6O/s200/DSC_7223.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">come and visit me <a href="http://gypsygirlsjournal.blogspot.com/">here</a>....it's so exciting</span></strong></div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-60410509228563600242008-07-02T00:49:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:48.615-08:00let the pictures speak<div align="center"></div><div align="center">As I have been recovering from a multitude of celebrations and sorrow, I find myself at a loss for words. With the funeral behind us, there is a sense of some closure and family is still visiting to ease in the time when we are all left alone. The roar of the roller coaster wakes us in the morning and is still stealing some of our sleep. So, I thought I would post some happy pictures as that is what I am focusing on here at home. The Graduation of my niece Kelly took a back seat, but we all momentarily put aside our grief to celebrate with this beautiful, talented young lady. Some in my family say that Kelly and I resemble one another...What do you think? </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKXEqP1qOia9HP17hQX7CK7E-jRO7n9AmDYm1buF-R5vAFJcRcSqlMzEqChMSzeJL4OcBDQpC8chByc7bveGt44UeXNCSEdQ2XjYYXgpd-zrQ-Rhy8Wcrt_FTBdSCc7Qzx8U94/s1600-h/DSC_7588.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218336470835841058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKXEqP1qOia9HP17hQX7CK7E-jRO7n9AmDYm1buF-R5vAFJcRcSqlMzEqChMSzeJL4OcBDQpC8chByc7bveGt44UeXNCSEdQ2XjYYXgpd-zrQ-Rhy8Wcrt_FTBdSCc7Qzx8U94/s320/DSC_7588.JPG" border="0" /></a>My Niece Kelly graduated with Honors from Davis High School.<br />We had great seats and this ceremony always makes me cry.<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://bp.blogger.com/_u_nmdzmWIRM/SGtBODCtuiI/AAAAAAAACzE/MjzgiNwy_UA/s1600-h/DSC_7587.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218336302829517346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHH65EFtRWO_1tRR2hYHtf092CwEOmtEzc4hI4fG-D3RfVzymzHI4B1TP58leuDGwhlTrasIuDQndVYjIetNhhNuZCsSfrByIrCBrdcA8GwN7a0FYSitNbz8SugObASHyOXlvS/s320/DSC_7587.JPG" border="0" /></a>Here we are making a sister sandwich with Kelly :)<br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpP17jf9vbX3-TnJEXZqWlx3VOD6LIPpeECs0yK2sdNkg7oqdaY56hoIzYqb4D2T9cbcCN6dmILZk337CDnNGr7cflZahyf_AVXCZ-Yd7xvFLvyhP7cTGYH50VcenifLP7A-Cm/s1600-h/DSC_7533.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218336055305237218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpP17jf9vbX3-TnJEXZqWlx3VOD6LIPpeECs0yK2sdNkg7oqdaY56hoIzYqb4D2T9cbcCN6dmILZk337CDnNGr7cflZahyf_AVXCZ-Yd7xvFLvyhP7cTGYH50VcenifLP7A-Cm/s320/DSC_7533.JPG" border="0" /></a>Us girls sure do love our Marmie.<br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsmJSD8TynsTGB8b1yzLNjT386RSk5i67cIGeQaHgf5waFJRzSRX97rVXyZNmXxb6DznLsGbjMFT0M06QSkjBTWzN2Cj4M58dGzUYhE-LZRgI3GNxmphnHDvU3lPUAJmWBss5/s1600-h/DSC_7650.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218335811239740466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsmJSD8TynsTGB8b1yzLNjT386RSk5i67cIGeQaHgf5waFJRzSRX97rVXyZNmXxb6DznLsGbjMFT0M06QSkjBTWzN2Cj4M58dGzUYhE-LZRgI3GNxmphnHDvU3lPUAJmWBss5/s320/DSC_7650.JPG" border="0" /></a>Angela loves her daddy J...and she is the apple of his eye...<br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-GDIvYtzGpgjac2YyH_YcAObnex_nYndXpHRyMKF_vYyjE6tjtl_ey_qW3105DEWRoZEjfOaEpwAFEOvS8He1Y1Ejz9Hdj_hWXwamjlBUTwfuWG-9P0wLZ6T_Xuk0C90XGRr/s1600-h/DSC_7715.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218335617289456178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-GDIvYtzGpgjac2YyH_YcAObnex_nYndXpHRyMKF_vYyjE6tjtl_ey_qW3105DEWRoZEjfOaEpwAFEOvS8He1Y1Ejz9Hdj_hWXwamjlBUTwfuWG-9P0wLZ6T_Xuk0C90XGRr/s320/DSC_7715.JPG" border="0" /></a>...and she is the strawberry of mine. </div></div></div></div></div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-91510861287842040852008-06-25T11:46:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:48.782-08:00the consistency of waves<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0AG4tkTcwJ06E4HZbDiRSPFoc7Wh_0yDMzJzVg5A0qyPBv1SL8xk1glYzNLZhywNo-n503-PYW0aolMhexGxov5ILNjmjVk1jEW31kuJJ1rxFdiYjbwGvJk25-a84hhB_A3G7/s1600-h/DSC_7623.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215893157787518322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0AG4tkTcwJ06E4HZbDiRSPFoc7Wh_0yDMzJzVg5A0qyPBv1SL8xk1glYzNLZhywNo-n503-PYW0aolMhexGxov5ILNjmjVk1jEW31kuJJ1rxFdiYjbwGvJk25-a84hhB_A3G7/s320/DSC_7623.JPG" border="0" /></a> It didn't matter what we were feeling at the moment <div align="center">our tears flowed often over the loss of Pops <div align="center">some mornings we woke up and wore sadness like a robe <div align="center">later feeling lighter knowing he was watching us from above</div><div align="center">It didn't matter that we felt confused and angry <div align="center">that death often deals some cruel jokes <div align="center">that no one understands our exact deep pain, then suddenly <div align="center">a sweet distant memory temporarily pulled us from that mire</div><div align="center">It didn't matter that our hearts felt so wounded <div align="center">a heaviness that held us to the ground <div align="center">we cradled ourselves and waited for a lifting <div align="center">and went to bed with the same weight upon our heads.</div>All of this didn't matter <div align="center">nothing we could do would halt the crashing of the waves <div align="center">they came and went, in and out, background music for our souls <div align="center">constant reminders that we were never left alone<br /></div><div align="center">The only thing that mattered <div align="center">was that God cared what we were going through <div align="center">His love would wrap around us and was always ever present <div align="center">like the waves, He is and forever shall be</div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">by Darlene Simmonds</span></em> <div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">dedicated to Robert 'Pops' Johnson</span></em></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-47364994051433307642008-06-24T00:49:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:49.112-08:00decompressing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMhGYDLbuth3fp7iJfG5Ixa0Qaux3CMgH56F1JRTibhyphenhyphenKAwaCDJH0_WPTwWf9CuwxosAVfeN08upR4G8V0afvVO1LpPKX3rlveiB41b40QgPySIzTI5aLtTrFFKnQPtE372Li3/s1600-h/DSC_7907.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215353013819633682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMhGYDLbuth3fp7iJfG5Ixa0Qaux3CMgH56F1JRTibhyphenhyphenKAwaCDJH0_WPTwWf9CuwxosAVfeN08upR4G8V0afvVO1LpPKX3rlveiB41b40QgPySIzTI5aLtTrFFKnQPtE372Li3/s400/DSC_7907.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />We have been decompressing as a family.<br />We got away from our house, jobs and regular routines and spontaneously clung to one another for comfort, sharing our grief, anger and sorrow. Being near the awesomeness of the ocean was like medicine for our souls.<br /><br />The funeral will be this Friday and all week, distant family will be arriving here and there. It feels like this is all happening too fast, yet taking forever to creep near any closure.<br /><br />I thank you all for your prayers and concerns and I have a lot to share with you as my brain processes all of this.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ1iaL0x47q7vPitGJujjtRLQGirqOKq6zE77dAzERBR2Gz0zhhGm6gu3gew5LNRXHp6yzp06qpsTwbQB6WexjrYSnEDPNI5ojqf3cVYdlA2ponzKYkQhufXtL4pSrETEVASGk/s1600-h/DSC_7922.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215532697645016674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ1iaL0x47q7vPitGJujjtRLQGirqOKq6zE77dAzERBR2Gz0zhhGm6gu3gew5LNRXHp6yzp06qpsTwbQB6WexjrYSnEDPNI5ojqf3cVYdlA2ponzKYkQhufXtL4pSrETEVASGk/s320/DSC_7922.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />LOVE holds<br />us together<br />and we are<br />a team :)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All of us<br />together<br />are a<br />team!!!Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-5840928159301563332008-06-12T15:11:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:49.536-08:00about face<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQpsQhll_m2uk-wJMH5rJ-pF5RPX92tlBuAjp8LmiuBsgNsl6uNiKTMjELFt-hLO1jeZGZuSZTiskZvXuYjsge8PevXPk-v1MGuqVh5LaaPZUjNVs6TXURaTFdaRqKJ7Dxryu/s1600-h/DSC_7081.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211121438676215074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEQpsQhll_m2uk-wJMH5rJ-pF5RPX92tlBuAjp8LmiuBsgNsl6uNiKTMjELFt-hLO1jeZGZuSZTiskZvXuYjsge8PevXPk-v1MGuqVh5LaaPZUjNVs6TXURaTFdaRqKJ7Dxryu/s200/DSC_7081.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Update***</strong></span><br />I don't even know where to begin...<br />My husbands father is dying. We have been struggling with many serious decisions. Life ending decisions that are brutal, feel cold and empty. All that surrounds me is sadness and anger and this never ending feeling of helplessness.<br /><br />Looking death in the face is scary and unnatural. The pain is tangible, a deep stab right into the heart and I can't seem to breathe enough air into my lungs. I feel like I'm physically crying for everyone in the family because they are all trying so hard to be strong.<br /><br />Pops is in the ICU and I am not allowed in there because of my compromised immune system. I can still smell that place because of Mark's extended stay there. I think it's what nightmares smell like. So, I'm home alone all day and now...lately, all night long. I can feel him leaving, turning away from us all and facing a direction that is not to be followed. All I can do...the only words that will form in my brain and come out of my mouth are...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45CzfS2QMUx0dJDDt_i_kZMANt565yXLiw6nYSQ6IeQrA3ljNF4xm-u35C6uhHVmnQOG8SxFY5ehmUPRPZhsFroKkGfyS-sgqGbIipP6PwyLVzjDBkUeySQIQRcMY71qR_Owf/s1600-h/DSC_7612.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211132899800801858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45CzfS2QMUx0dJDDt_i_kZMANt565yXLiw6nYSQ6IeQrA3ljNF4xm-u35C6uhHVmnQOG8SxFY5ehmUPRPZhsFroKkGfyS-sgqGbIipP6PwyLVzjDBkUeySQIQRcMY71qR_Owf/s200/DSC_7612.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Goodbye Pops...<br />I'll see you...later<br /><br />and thank you<br />for the<br />loving laughter.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">***Pop's Spirit left this Earth at</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">2:00 am June 13, 2008***</span></span></strong><br /><br />Rest in Peace loved oneDarlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-20726480215893437742008-06-04T11:51:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:50.067-08:00ruminations<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydJ1dgjD9dipamD3yWV4RFvpNUQkafFSYDAi0U7YERF8zWhZIAiT0wHUlZl0uSX5_RuCs5WcR7Nt3XZHb-bo468uMeeas9bS9BP1mcs7cFo1kh4lEsT5j9gfwB3yrrKUaUXKZ/s1600-h/DSC_7443.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208101641427604210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydJ1dgjD9dipamD3yWV4RFvpNUQkafFSYDAi0U7YERF8zWhZIAiT0wHUlZl0uSX5_RuCs5WcR7Nt3XZHb-bo468uMeeas9bS9BP1mcs7cFo1kh4lEsT5j9gfwB3yrrKUaUXKZ/s320/DSC_7443.JPG" border="0" /></a> I have felt a little<br />better the last<br />couple of days.<br />This flare was<br />one of the more<br />harsh I have<br />endured this<br />spring and it<br />warranted a visit<br />to see my doctor.<br />Blood tests galore,<br />a shot and some<br />scary low blood<br />pressure was<br />all part of the<br />routine.<br />But, I have the best doctor in the world who makes me feel better for just seeing him. He is indeed an angel in the disguise of a doctor. With berries ripening on the vine, I picked a few for my breakfast and sat with the sun on my face for just a quick moment. I am feeling thankful to be alive, to have family and friends that love me and a God that watches over me. I am always seeking for the lessons I have to learn on this journey with a weak body in tow. I often wonder if having lived with good health...would I have been too self absorbed, or even more selfish than I already am?<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8zf93BuDtPXHnybdCCfdw4IiEG_TjbqvHwX85KQz24_4oEnAVHIVXiZho6AYMzW9v4zeYo-DMriH7G14uODcbctfB856kDOhkg5t0Y6P3dpUVA4fpO31bwdZL0zhizf-WRge/s1600-h/DSC_7441.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208101289240285922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8zf93BuDtPXHnybdCCfdw4IiEG_TjbqvHwX85KQz24_4oEnAVHIVXiZho6AYMzW9v4zeYo-DMriH7G14uODcbctfB856kDOhkg5t0Y6P3dpUVA4fpO31bwdZL0zhizf-WRge/s320/DSC_7441.JPG" border="0" /></a> Someone obviously needs my undivided attention because I no longer take things for granted and feel fully aware of all things happening around me. Like the beautiful flowers that are growing in my backyard. Each one is vibrant in its own right and I am appreciating Springtime more than ever. But the learning must be more than how to appreciate something? I think I am waiting for something profound to suddenly dawn in my brain. Maybe I am wrong to feel that I have given something up and therefore expect something in return? Our accumulations don't leave this Earth with us and that is not what I am after. Accomplishments don't either, so what am I looking for? Quality time is what I think most people crave...and I have plenty of that, yes...I have plenty of that.Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-58384459926840259292008-05-30T15:57:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:50.359-08:00Baxter & Ellie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAo7-RDWNgkS21g4T9S2iyVjfGP10ZqWehhNVGvQ8zCm4I_Hbk7MUFEkikRYnSD48RuJUNXRcFAyWeHu9KTkQV9KKcgUOjujAbiyonC7s5T36SSSwrIKpK8Obn574yjzJgWOm/s1600-h/DSC_7418.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAo7-RDWNgkS21g4T9S2iyVjfGP10ZqWehhNVGvQ8zCm4I_Hbk7MUFEkikRYnSD48RuJUNXRcFAyWeHu9KTkQV9KKcgUOjujAbiyonC7s5T36SSSwrIKpK8Obn574yjzJgWOm/s200/DSC_7418.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206317713069805570" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwGyXAJJd7WY5XEK7RMct19JOZ9JZHKaogqGGOBW3FzDKFUkNBjKzYtndOEyHtBdO6sbhxB4me8nDd39dgXiLp0CFWP_4_kBjlxGAuQ6dS0d9iQrFWxU1MBhASN8aAO9XeW5L/s1600-h/DSC_7408.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwGyXAJJd7WY5XEK7RMct19JOZ9JZHKaogqGGOBW3FzDKFUkNBjKzYtndOEyHtBdO6sbhxB4me8nDd39dgXiLp0CFWP_4_kBjlxGAuQ6dS0d9iQrFWxU1MBhASN8aAO9XeW5L/s200/DSC_7408.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206317588515753970" /></a><br />All Ears<br /><br /><br />God gave humans<br />the gift of precious animals<br />on loan<br />to keep us going<br />make us smile<br />and laugh<br />to give us tangible love<br />all day long<br />no matter what<br /><br />if you don't have a pet<br />and you don't feel well<br />get one<br />because they know just what to do<br />right when you need it<br />all day<br />every day<br /><br />how can I cry<br />when these two are here<br />to lovingly kiss away<br />each tear<br />that never seem to make it<br />to the ground<br /><br />+++++++(Baxter just pressed this key on<br />m<br />y+<br />computer)<br />see what I mean?Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-66896661658792647842008-05-26T18:26:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:50.559-08:00mush<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHA59IuieIVXGJRSrx3xLmPUsN5Yd6vq1gNk2ZZevSxktvSNrTvkrBwGqDEZEUtdxOPcMKGCnvYjC1XMik8dkvgfQydgyITfafAPO8BsVi7XXVBEVLsfXpzBpwReHJyIiU5EH8/s1600-h/DSC_4471.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204863106430898082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHA59IuieIVXGJRSrx3xLmPUsN5Yd6vq1gNk2ZZevSxktvSNrTvkrBwGqDEZEUtdxOPcMKGCnvYjC1XMik8dkvgfQydgyITfafAPO8BsVi7XXVBEVLsfXpzBpwReHJyIiU5EH8/s200/DSC_4471.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><p>Sorry for my absence, I have been sick and my brain has been mush.</p><p>Mushy brains do not function well...</p>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-53631566809442778692008-05-22T12:42:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:50.729-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2uEiZzrkHHTBGgzAxxh1L7tmcO8QJlB34irAaRRsaeQ11a9RRhYPOtNJwcLoWAdIiYW_x_DMckv91PjdDMWb8DN5PCv76pU_ubs_cOEaKUI_XR-8lKa0LVA_K7SZRqM81QFpS/s1600-h/DSC_7340.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203290083248672658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2uEiZzrkHHTBGgzAxxh1L7tmcO8QJlB34irAaRRsaeQ11a9RRhYPOtNJwcLoWAdIiYW_x_DMckv91PjdDMWb8DN5PCv76pU_ubs_cOEaKUI_XR-8lKa0LVA_K7SZRqM81QFpS/s400/DSC_7340.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>I found this while rummaging through a junk drawer. You've gotta love those spontaneous memories that result from going to the mall with your kids. This is a huge button that Ang and I had made for daddy J many many moons ago. He loved it and had it on his desk at work for the longest time. It feels like we did this a lifetime ago...ah, good times :)</p>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-60263586325352012992008-05-21T11:37:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:51.029-08:00picture this...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR-CFQam-lF-O6u6Qy0eOoNwDRJCn31kBSt_PWcU1LaXd5onATAyxD2sdsxxgCB2TxPQ6HiIUqWewW2a5uIVb2V4HCXPGQOo0eWuJbDb9iewA7Z0EEIMX0G6VIQ-k_yJKzC4Wb/s1600-h/DSC_7280.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202902639786569794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR-CFQam-lF-O6u6Qy0eOoNwDRJCn31kBSt_PWcU1LaXd5onATAyxD2sdsxxgCB2TxPQ6HiIUqWewW2a5uIVb2V4HCXPGQOo0eWuJbDb9iewA7Z0EEIMX0G6VIQ-k_yJKzC4Wb/s320/DSC_7280.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We have a large planters picture box outside of our dinette kitchen area, which currently has marigolds in it...and a bit of something else? This is my husbands project, so I, cool and dry from inside the air conditioned window and he, hot and sweaty outside in his farmers hat, have this conversation...<br /><br /><em>tap tap tap on the window...</em><br />"Honey, we have weeds growing with the marigolds?"<br />"They're not weeds...it's lettuce."<br />"Why did you plant lettuce with the flowers, when we have a perfectly large garden?"<br />"I'm using it for starters."<br />"Why there?"<br />"Because the marigolds will keep the lettuce safe."<br />"Safe from who?"<br />"Them!" as he points to the garden.<br />"???"<br /><br />Evidently, we have starter stealer's(lettuce eating bugs)in our garden that are intimidated by adult sized lettuce, but have no problem consuming it in infant form. Marigolds have a potent smell that most bugs don't enjoy, so they stay clear of them. Therefore, creating a safe and pesticide free zone for starters. Ingenious...<br /><br />...and I thought he was suffering from sun stroke.Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-88571717065927494242008-05-19T02:36:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:51.336-08:00the best kind of love<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wmZDiZLrX4uK0zn0-KslbD1HyCUOswmuo-5721_PdzbCCdHQDUp3Wj2vdd5fEPb1fzzXbfn9qYg4sQwEwS_kgG8StwRgsx_AMfOQ32tRcusZ70SwxyPFszFeNrgISxQejhF6/s1600-h/DSC_7085.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202020775626518578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wmZDiZLrX4uK0zn0-KslbD1HyCUOswmuo-5721_PdzbCCdHQDUp3Wj2vdd5fEPb1fzzXbfn9qYg4sQwEwS_kgG8StwRgsx_AMfOQ32tRcusZ70SwxyPFszFeNrgISxQejhF6/s400/DSC_7085.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />One of my favorite things is to be alert and capture a moment in time. Notice that something rare and special just passed between you and another. Recognize it for what it is, unrehearsed, spontaneous and a gift. Hold onto it, tuck it away and later on let it roam the halls of your mind. I had some of those this weekend...<br /><br />Sissy made this face, one that I am so familiar with and it was the most striking image of her Grandma Kay.<span style="font-size:85%;"> <em><span style="color:#003300;">(God rest her soul)</span></em></span> I told her so and she said, "You mean when I do thiiiiisss?" And she contorted her face, to which I responded, "No, the pretty one." I can feel Kay's presence in the room when this happens and get a strong sense of security that we are all still connected and it comforts me. I briefly closed my eyes to give it a moment to sink in.<br /><br />My daughter stopped me in my tracks with this serious stare she gave me from across the dinner table at the restaurant. "Mom, you are really a beautiful woman." She said it very plain and simple, but I could tell that she had been really paying attention to other woman in her life and had done some mental comparing. I blushed at her tone of intent.<br /><br />In the kitchen tonight I was observing my husband putting away the loose ends. He looked so handsome standing there, so sweet to be helping us girls clean the kitchen. He looked over at me with an intense look of admiration. "Are you <em>really</em> happy honey?" I asked. "Extremely" he replied and then gave me a gentle hug and kissed my face...I love having him to love.<br /><br />I phoned my girlfriend <a href="http://angelasaspirations.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#003300;"><strong>Angela</strong></span></a><strong> </strong>at the end of the weekend, checking in to see how her hellish week with Charley's battle with Cancer was going. She sounded happy to hear my voice and I was thrilled to hear hers. "Next week, let's try to carve out some "we" time...just a little." I stated. She then said, "Oh yes, I miss you too!" Even though the subject matter was glum, our voices weren't because our friendship is just as alive and thriving as Charlie is. In our hearts, we know that he will beat this and soon we'll have a party to celebrate it. I love having such a yummy frister in her.<br /><br />So you see...I had a very relaxing weekend filled with the best kind of love, the unconditional kind.Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-78017263035737655792008-05-16T12:33:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:51.474-08:00this girl<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGWhoxB2Hzh1NrSY8V0EveaKR7b2v6_3-b2_Oxgn1ZRiuoADD3CYygEyS1sX8WlbK70h6iqQgaEOX1jDJ5FrKuNrZ-G6pN7J_7PFvn3-rmNszcLY_WZh1-hSfETr8TGbDqsTfA/s1600-h/DSC_7223.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201061645004812322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGWhoxB2Hzh1NrSY8V0EveaKR7b2v6_3-b2_Oxgn1ZRiuoADD3CYygEyS1sX8WlbK70h6iqQgaEOX1jDJ5FrKuNrZ-G6pN7J_7PFvn3-rmNszcLY_WZh1-hSfETr8TGbDqsTfA/s320/DSC_7223.jpg" border="0" /></a>
<br />is anticipating the arrival of her daughter, who just happens to be coming home for an extra unexpected weekend. We already know that we want Sushi for dinner, a really good chick flick and just maybe some shopping for summer pj's.
<br /><div>
<br />I can easily predict a few giggles, some cuddling and huge salads with everything you could possibly think of on them. She eats like a rabbit, nibbling various veggies all day long and a trip to Starbucks is in the stars. Jamba Juice will get a visit too and we can't forget those puppy kisses. The only yucky part is that these weekends seem to pass way too soon and before you know it, she is driving away again. *sigh*...
<br /><div>
<br />more importantly, this girl is one happy momma :) </div></div>
<br />Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-55672239618115063472008-05-15T11:11:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:51.587-08:00a box full of life...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZNlbhY6PGVbju_JeGwUmpf9m-SdhC8GBNoVnZ2YxNy_5jYXf3d5UHZjOWz1TGmkp6ZAF1LvdLO-YQ9u46Wd7ScAQ_gBD29XvTjm-XCoVdGDFTd6464A8lcA4Wq728uXufUK3i/s1600-h/DSC_7208.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200112573196513282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZNlbhY6PGVbju_JeGwUmpf9m-SdhC8GBNoVnZ2YxNy_5jYXf3d5UHZjOWz1TGmkp6ZAF1LvdLO-YQ9u46Wd7ScAQ_gBD29XvTjm-XCoVdGDFTd6464A8lcA4Wq728uXufUK3i/s320/DSC_7208.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>I had a recent experience that is very precious to me. I am purging and downsizing my studio, something very hard for me to do. But, I feel so strongly about this. I am taking small units at a time to make sure that I don't get stuck into 'overwhelming mode' and then feel like I need a vacation from cleaning. I had three bulging bags of material, scraps, remnants mostly and chose a sturdy medium sized box to become the new storage container. I decided that after that box was filled everything else had to go, so my choices needed to be wise. I do all sorts of things with material, so the smallest scrap is still something I consider useful. Sewing is one of my passions and when I was a new momma, I took pride in making my babies homemade clothes and holiday dresses. (This was something my children stopped loving by about 5th grade...I know you sewing mom's and dad's can relate ;D)</div><div><br />As I went through the bags, I came across every remnant of fabric I ever sewed. My sons and daughters baby clothes, many staples like, bathrobes, shorts for Mark and dresses for Angela. The loads of pillows I have made throughout the years. Pajama's for the neighbor kids and my sisters. Curtains that I loved to often change. Stuffed Teddy Bears, Easter Bunnies and Doll clothes. And all the many matching skirts and dresses I created for Angela and I.</div><div>As I touched each piece of fabric and noted it's colors while cutting most of it into more manageable pieces, I remembered a tradition...I used to make a big deal about going to the material shop with the kids and allowing them to pick out their own materials. I enjoyed the lessons they would learn by seeing a big bolt of material turn into something useful with a little hard work.</div><div>Their choices said a lot about them at that time. Mark choosing bright wacky colors for board shorts and Angela with her pink and purple flowers. One dress I made her called for a white apron to tie around her waste...very Holly Hobbie at the time. She named her dresses and that one became her cooking dress which would get worn as much as possible.</div><div>Today's project took me all afternoon and was very emotional, as I shed a lot of reminiscent tears. I filled the box, gave the rest to good will, or the garbage and then labeled it, "a box full of life" rather than "material" in its designated spot on the shelf. My fingers held a lot of history today, my private life's history and my mind is already reeling with idea's to turn those scraps into keepsakes for my two children.</div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-30700421810786594412008-05-13T00:00:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:52.075-08:00fresh flames ~ SPC<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eGkHSRid3aPfWkyObUvqY0vRmwZO2bEPa6WiXSvkFaZYlr01mZd8b9Z6hMVUTn6HxqYGl9K1AmSXUwBwpK-hzgqKCCrrPzy7sbuWJmQybPK8Gndi16pbJA4I2yRQSdVkFn2o/s1600-h/DSC_7076.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196689765056177218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eGkHSRid3aPfWkyObUvqY0vRmwZO2bEPa6WiXSvkFaZYlr01mZd8b9Z6hMVUTn6HxqYGl9K1AmSXUwBwpK-hzgqKCCrrPzy7sbuWJmQybPK8Gndi16pbJA4I2yRQSdVkFn2o/s320/DSC_7076.JPG" border="0" /></a> Passion, in the form of a belief, is worth an <div align="center">investment of your time and effort. A dream, <div align="center">that desire that burns so strongly in your soul, <div align="center">will often become a struggle for your mind. <div align="center">You will face doubt head on and be expected <div align="center">to make a choice, to believe or not believe. <div align="center">You will question your ability every time <div align="center">a dream is revealed, regardless of how your <div align="center">heart sang at it's conception. But, I think <div align="center">of the marriage that seemed hopeless by all <div align="center">circumstances and the burning truth that <div align="center">keeps probing the mind, "Remember the <div align="center">day you fell in love..." and fresh endurance <div align="center">is renewed. It takes just one spark, one word <div align="center">of encouragement, one step and the <div align="center">dream unfolded is ablaze with prosperity. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-82603774239419460582008-05-12T00:33:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:52.441-08:00Fly<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQcTFL6MM-4Wihk479uzYFbtVynPIrq_F-pL4V5kp7Z400SOfVL8rlPk3s53CKYts0UJ5gRT0-uQlAAs_dHtBck3mKXTswDk48X2QM5Fo-c9_Md6kx1GY0EGILLLg_hiU1bsdX/s1600-h/angelakelly_sm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199391568446599154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQcTFL6MM-4Wihk479uzYFbtVynPIrq_F-pL4V5kp7Z400SOfVL8rlPk3s53CKYts0UJ5gRT0-uQlAAs_dHtBck3mKXTswDk48X2QM5Fo-c9_Md6kx1GY0EGILLLg_hiU1bsdX/s320/angelakelly_sm.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">taken by boho girl-Angela & Kelly<br /></span><br />Our daughters turn into women, begin rearranging their priorities and spend their time away from home growing and learning how to fly. They fly rather well, because we were the lesson givers and by this time, each lesson carries within it the wisdom of 4 generations.<br /><br />Angela was 10 pounds and 2 ounces. That told me something that I didn't quite get until a little while ago. She was born ready to go. Ahead in everything, according to the doctor's, Angela skipped over the newborn part and wanted to begin learning as soon as possible.<br /><br />Her pink little tiny hand rested in mine and she would say, "Go momma, go!" So we went...and learned and went and learned some more...she was learning to fly. When the lessons were over, she packed her bags and headed to the other side of the world.<br /><br />"Sometimes I regret letting you fly." words from a song sung by <a href="http://www.sweetslyrics.com/424462.Ingrid%20Michaelson%20-%20Highway.html">Ingrid Michaelson</a>, "Highway."<br /><br />Our children... flesh and bone come from us, personalities from themselves and their spirit...the Creator.<br /><br />And, they were born to fly.Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-10808484249137339922008-05-10T07:29:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:52.666-08:00all Mother's day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmiWWk8CgpzVtqbY2_g6B70voiRYGsTFy-wXt-EWXCKkZgJbglA6KpLarIxMLwvaueyerYNis9tJKrKRjFvaMF8EbiK6L3pYJ0yGsHJRWcra39IrBWjfruzBW0fFI7CmB-bJJ/s1600-h/DSC_7191+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198756405787492354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmiWWk8CgpzVtqbY2_g6B70voiRYGsTFy-wXt-EWXCKkZgJbglA6KpLarIxMLwvaueyerYNis9tJKrKRjFvaMF8EbiK6L3pYJ0yGsHJRWcra39IrBWjfruzBW0fFI7CmB-bJJ/s200/DSC_7191+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>To every woman who has been a mom,</div><div>and every man who has mothered those in need</div><div>I honor you this day.</div><div></div><div>To all the people who desire to become Mommas, </div><div>and all the couples who are trying to increase</div><div>the love they share in their home, may the rest of this year be especially prosperous to you.</div><div></div><div>We lift up every Mother on this very special day because we admit that without you we are nothing.</div><div></div><div>In this house, we gather all the Mom's together, we feed and pamper them. We open presents and fill our cards with sentiments, saying things that should be said all year long.</div><div></div><div>I hope this day is spent by either you honoring the mom's in your life, or the family you have raised, honors you.</div><div></div><div>Special times spent with special people creating memories to last a lifetime.</div><div> </div><div>Happy Mother's Day :)</div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-38589948247825682092008-05-08T12:22:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:52.783-08:00The Big Bully<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMfcFaj2FWWo53QvHh1hgYX7Mj17WdYgkyPga0VtGnEwfucKNjAbeskRffSoSIJGsmYhtQJ230AxqphQQ8OUguqkLMmqsNfQhnIv6WvpujrenwZp2LJv5ecmV4kh0lNYIxih5/s1600-h/DSC_5656+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198089937813983346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqMfcFaj2FWWo53QvHh1hgYX7Mj17WdYgkyPga0VtGnEwfucKNjAbeskRffSoSIJGsmYhtQJ230AxqphQQ8OUguqkLMmqsNfQhnIv6WvpujrenwZp2LJv5ecmV4kh0lNYIxih5/s400/DSC_5656+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">Cnn</span> just reported that Blogging creates Bridges that bring Our World Together!!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>Mark</strong></span> needed you, I needed you and you were there for me...if YOU had not sent me the support that you did, I would have <em>crumbled</em> under the intense pressure that the grip of Death inflicts on people. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">My Best Friend Angela is going through the worst part of the battle right now with her Husband fighting the last few bullies of <strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#663333;"><em>Cancer</em></span></strong>. He is a fighter, but the Bully doesn't play Fair!!!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Please Please visit her site and leave her a comment like you left me when Mark was struggling to stay alive. I came home from the Hospital <em>every single day</em> and Survived off of <strong>your</strong> loving and supportive comments. Angela is one of those people who doesn't like to ASK for help, so I am ASKING.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">You can go ---><span style="color:#ff0000;"><a href="http://angelasaspirations.blogspot.com/">HERE</a></span><--- and lift Charlie up in prayer, light a candle for him, do whatever it is YOU do to include yourselves on yet another miracle across this <span style="color:#339999;">BIG</span> <span style="color:#33cc00;">Beautiful</span> <span style="color:#cc9933;">World </span>of <span style="color:#000099;">OURS!</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I whole heartily believe that MARK is alive today because of you!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Thank you </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Thank you</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Thank you</span>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-62971451611137261182008-05-08T05:00:00.001-07:002008-12-11T09:33:52.915-08:00not just one<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEgNL4ToeTvqvd3tfOkD-BkFXBeS2eVSuwKsveeY7XTyMn3LBoLS6Ym0USxlrIu7PWpSZfxrXiOEPrKqI3g1IFs78I4Epp0LYbST9F7Zz80yb4qIQQ6wEHPmD-eD_QeQX8HcN/s1600-h/DSC_7097.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196781492672717906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEgNL4ToeTvqvd3tfOkD-BkFXBeS2eVSuwKsveeY7XTyMn3LBoLS6Ym0USxlrIu7PWpSZfxrXiOEPrKqI3g1IFs78I4Epp0LYbST9F7Zz80yb4qIQQ6wEHPmD-eD_QeQX8HcN/s320/DSC_7097.JPG" border="0" /></a> It is so comforting to know that we were never <div align="center">meant to be alone...by ourselves without friends, <div align="center">family, or soul mates. Then, if there were big eyes <div align="center">looking down, they would only see us. There would <div align="center">be no reason to laugh or cry and be understood. <div align="center">Each day would feel so long and we wouldn't sing <div align="center">or find ourselves being inspired. Everything would <div align="center">be about us and that just makes being selfish too <div align="center">easy. Instead we have others to mentor us and <div align="center">people we have to be good examples for. We <div align="center">hear more than our own voice for advice and <div align="center">encouragement. Now we become singers and <div align="center">teachers, artists and lovers because they are <div align="center">there and we learn to share. Yes, it is a comfort <div align="center">knowing that we have friends, family and <div align="center">soul mates to give our lives to.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-50422658510218602502008-05-06T05:00:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:53.074-08:00fresh old lace ~ SPC<div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196645969274659842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2bZj7tfNJmvW6jmncxgZBXWbxxSvGm-w9oBD4YvaV1etfoDJY6yV4lkEYceqxXIcoLuwH3qOZCPba4lFG6cMhsQzOLkWO9Yc6KI3zP4Jbh18lpmeQuadl3SBtmxYv1Ba33o5/s320/DSC_7070.JPG" border="0" /> <div align="center">How is it possible to feel so fragile, while inside the <div align="center">roaring lion is ready to pounce, this will always <div align="center">remain a mystery to me. To wear lace in those <div align="center">paling shades of pink and white, only to be colored <div align="center">in red on the inside. Oh, to peel back the layers in a <div align="center">constant motion revealing each moment the <div align="center">material faded over and over. I can feel the twist <div align="center">when the rag is wrung tight and the color runs <div align="center"><div align="center"><div align="center">swiftly back into the ground. I would rather be <div align="center">that bright dye that will travel, than be the <div align="center">colorless cloth that remains. Forever I will forge <div align="center">contentment as the lace with its delicate holes <div align="center">and designs. Fresh and clean, wispy and worn soft, <div align="center">treasured and saved, used and past down <div align="center">time and time again. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-85308523799433832902008-05-04T16:32:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:53.646-08:00how are you?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjYNhY-9toTfKYsIUSHEmw5vClQuclwoFvJLXfwyCmzEpdehaMut6RtgIG06Yr5X0ea6UyCkMbYsOgI8zAlP9ZNiHr9Cf4Gg8Fe1bUsCzE2gI76uU7b8-YgDC0KefQb_NoOvw/s1600-h/DSC_6990.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196669986731779090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjYNhY-9toTfKYsIUSHEmw5vClQuclwoFvJLXfwyCmzEpdehaMut6RtgIG06Yr5X0ea6UyCkMbYsOgI8zAlP9ZNiHr9Cf4Gg8Fe1bUsCzE2gI76uU7b8-YgDC0KefQb_NoOvw/s320/DSC_6990.JPG" border="0" /></a>Well, I'm okay. San Fran really took a lot out of me and it seems like it's taking forever to get back on my feet. Our new couches came in and they are just lovely. When you order furniture that requires choosing a fabric it is done by looking at these 12 inch pattern swatches, you really have to use your imagination. Then it takes up to 8 weeks for them to finally arrive and most of the time you've forgotten what you ordered in the first place. So, you are either in for a nice surprise, or an (<em>OMG</em>) what have I done! So, things are looking different in my favorite living space and now I want new curtains and I think my red wall needs to be a different shade...<em>Oi</em><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiui9yTzv-UxxLYiYNwGtvJ_KTKpBHjnrtiD8d9TX4kFaKyQG0PaHsiseQDrSfH-zK6Tc8yGwgxl7aycaQ7K9FxWbfZ8W6bI2eDMM-7oid-eWNW-VeMPdMLq_q2w8TCabHtsLOC/s1600-h/CSC_6856+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196677636068533282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiui9yTzv-UxxLYiYNwGtvJ_KTKpBHjnrtiD8d9TX4kFaKyQG0PaHsiseQDrSfH-zK6Tc8yGwgxl7aycaQ7K9FxWbfZ8W6bI2eDMM-7oid-eWNW-VeMPdMLq_q2w8TCabHtsLOC/s200/CSC_6856+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a>Good news about Mark...he finished his hardest class for the respiratory therapy program with a flying <em>A</em> and the professor asked him to be a student teacher for the following semesters. It is a paid position and very good for the ego *<em>smile</em>* [Mark, if you are reading this, I have bragging rights for birthing you] *<em>bigger smile</em>* Oh...and since he is taking all of these medical classes, he is realizing just how serious his injuries were. It has been an emotional learning experience for him.<br />My Pastor and his wife have retired, moved to the opposite side of California and now there is this huge emptiness in my heart. I don't think I allowed myself to accept their departure until after it happened. Then it came crashing down in shreds of pieces. I just got off the phone with Mrs. Pastor (<a href="http://brushstrokesfromtheheart.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#660000;">Wanda Mom</span></a>) and didn't let myslf cry until we hung up. She sounds <em>SO</em> happy and peaceful I just couldn't ruin it with my sobs. I can't believe how selfish I feel about them, it's embarrassing and immature. Their children are very blessed to have two such precious people now permanently in their lives. I am green with envy. So, now...<em>how are you</em>?Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-13996705710463612082008-05-02T21:59:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:53.952-08:00open<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8J86ICLABBhlDAU3LrvJAiIXgbwZqbFJV_G_BhrVZNUqWHxC2pOqH1GG_pq6gH_ycOiQ1TeVt-vMYyZhdrFCqXKN1Qx_S8qJ0GhVKlgT4p4FP9Ji9duzrXwiLFa8SMuiV7Xo/s1600-h/DSC_6959.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196012233965232754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8J86ICLABBhlDAU3LrvJAiIXgbwZqbFJV_G_BhrVZNUqWHxC2pOqH1GG_pq6gH_ycOiQ1TeVt-vMYyZhdrFCqXKN1Qx_S8qJ0GhVKlgT4p4FP9Ji9duzrXwiLFa8SMuiV7Xo/s320/DSC_6959.JPG" border="0" /></a> If we close our hearts too tightly we end up <div align="center">avoiding important emotions and risk not <div align="center">learning the answers to our questions. I think <div align="center">we receive many answers when we actively <div align="center">experience life and it always needs more exploration. <div align="center">Seeking gathers our questions and encourages childlike <div align="center">behaviors, such as innocence and trustfulness. Life is <div align="center">so much more than just the living part...it is our candid <div align="center">participation in the explanations that we give. <div align="center">Open hearts that seek get life's answers through experience. <div align="center">I am open.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-18641143059185059412008-05-01T01:25:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:54.065-08:00the watchman<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXjQ5QxctQv8fTF5Vstgju7E2_0gmXTYrDIclinM9C8atvgGYe-T661CCQVqf1MiUOSO4k5xaNiSgP4TwyCWZluLbsqRU9cqSEg9ExLT_wxFLIY5-H5LuZ1T4vo-rYMyWOIk5/s1600-h/DSC_6899.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195336910487478882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXjQ5QxctQv8fTF5Vstgju7E2_0gmXTYrDIclinM9C8atvgGYe-T661CCQVqf1MiUOSO4k5xaNiSgP4TwyCWZluLbsqRU9cqSEg9ExLT_wxFLIY5-H5LuZ1T4vo-rYMyWOIk5/s400/DSC_6899.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Waiting in my bed at night, long after Sissy was asleep, I would open up the curtains and lay on my belly while looking at the flag that graced this tower. A beam of light was shinning straight on and the wind gave it an undulating rhythm. The hour was late, yet many perfect squares remained lit regardless that the sun had set long ago. I thought of my weary body that ached all over wanting to find solace in sleep, but some of those perfect squares in my mind were still lit, not yet ready to call it a day. </div><div> </div><div>Such a big city spread out wide around this massive cove that inhabited so many different kinds of people and such a small flag of three simple colors raised up high like a watchman guarding the territory. I began to feel lonely laying next to this big tower, the wide ocean full of ports and then miles and miles of deep salt water. The many streets that made up this giant city with houses in every nook and cranny, roofs covering the rich and poor alike. And that same flag quietly waved a lullaby of freedom and liberty for all.</div><div> </div><div>One by one another small perfect square doused its light and my eyelids started getting heavy. I felt weak in body, but said a very deliberate prayer over that mass of land with all its inhabitants. Who am I but one voice against these skyscraper's, huge ships and well dressed people that are solving problems in some office with their own perfect square of light? I hung my head feeling that I am just one, just one of me. And as I reached for the curtains, one on each side with my body making the sudden sign of a cross, the light at the top of tower actually looked a little brighter, as all the perfect square windows were slowly darkening. "In God We Trust" I whispered to the city, "In God We Put Our Trust."</div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-27295256295200291492008-04-29T08:09:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:54.549-08:00lovely view ~ lovely people<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIksUOP958F96DjDOhbkhpqLbIl0mlcgV8juYlrOddMUAqlQvUk-g8SO5bWWrDW2QGqL9U_f4uz8P8_anXydz7ZwcFMXKuY2Yw8KCgJPZUwKPmlxRkEhGBJOJSKW6ZbELsftY/s1600-h/DSC_6892.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194546357332140594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLIksUOP958F96DjDOhbkhpqLbIl0mlcgV8juYlrOddMUAqlQvUk-g8SO5bWWrDW2QGqL9U_f4uz8P8_anXydz7ZwcFMXKuY2Yw8KCgJPZUwKPmlxRkEhGBJOJSKW6ZbELsftY/s320/DSC_6892.JPG" border="0" /></a> This was the view from our room. Evenings were especially fabulous. I brought my smaller lens, so I couldn't get the panorama look of it. There was so much more to see on both sides, Coit Tower on telegraph hill was smack in the middle, the Golden Gate bridge was off to the left, so was Alcatraz Island and plenty of Bay Ocean sailing, barge ships and cruisers. It was all so very stunning.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9VRoQIUz9x7rztuBcmnMeufJGqcNsv5GFZ3gE5fsVyabNMxnNZa8pJKB4R7-gRPaTjECzrwKOiFGp0NyPF964tDKh-ySAxYK5Q8gxpu4VMyJ1Z0F5YGMV7xuYzs9_xy8rQHMm/s1600-h/DSC_6920-copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194545979375018530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9VRoQIUz9x7rztuBcmnMeufJGqcNsv5GFZ3gE5fsVyabNMxnNZa8pJKB4R7-gRPaTjECzrwKOiFGp0NyPF964tDKh-ySAxYK5Q8gxpu4VMyJ1Z0F5YGMV7xuYzs9_xy8rQHMm/s320/DSC_6920-copy.jpg" border="0" /></a> This is my daughter Angela and her beau Jon. I was able to spend some quality time with him. Yummy dinner and enough conversation to know that this young man has a significant plan to add more success to his already successful life. It was fun to watch these two make goo goo eyes and see how very well suited they are for each other. They are both happy and the energy radiating from them is lovingly contagious.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">There is so much more to tell you, however the trip took its toll and I can barely keep my eyes open. My body paid a dear price for admission, suffering a lot of pain, but my heart is content. I need to rest and sleep, cuddle with 2 puppies and 1 husband, that missed me dearly.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Don't you think Angela and Jon make a beautiful couple?</div><div align="center">I am in love with them.</div><div align="center">I love their love.</div><div align="center">so lovingly lovely</div><div align="center">& lovable. </div>Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30610711.post-58757092141874668392008-04-24T08:42:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:33:54.866-08:00do you know?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggf1KCEz8U1JLCnX3E7JzVMTdNsVqdlZ_z9yItStSaWev09Suup3Qov6wcMz7aE-WcUgzyEnRETPeAcDjTh1w_vDZYC2yqOWHm9o3UrXdMdvQZiAw8d6btgcOBwC81xFLkkSpp/s1600-h/DSC_0079+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192513587965649426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggf1KCEz8U1JLCnX3E7JzVMTdNsVqdlZ_z9yItStSaWev09Suup3Qov6wcMz7aE-WcUgzyEnRETPeAcDjTh1w_vDZYC2yqOWHm9o3UrXdMdvQZiAw8d6btgcOBwC81xFLkkSpp/s320/DSC_0079+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a>Do you know the way to San Fransisco? I do...and I get to leave today for a brief stay to celebrate my birthday. I am checking into a nice hotel with my daughter by my side. We have been squealing about this for weeks and it is finally here. She is a planner, so I will get my itinerary upon arrival, thank goodness she can also be flexible, as I will need some resting time here and there. I am lucky to have "cuddle time" as an item on the to do list. I have been very sick these past few weeks and it seems strange to go from little city to BIG city. <div></div><br />I haven't said much about Angela. She has a new beau who looks like a Greek god (a very beautiful big rugby playing man) and he is very tender hearted. I get to spend some time with him too. Enough time has passed between the two of them, that I need to let him experience the Momma side to me...the "you are holding my precious cargo" side. I'm expecting good things to transpire...and a few photo shoots :) <div></div><br />I am feeling anxious about leaving lil Baxter. He is almost 6 months old and hasn't left my side for one day. The bad thing about little dogs is their strong attachment and dependency on their masters, leaving them can be traumatizing. I think he knows something is up because he has been staring me down and whining these last few days. I'm going to miss him too. <div></div><br />Adventures...San Fransisco promises adventures and I plan on having a few myself and then sharing them with you upon my return, photo's included. <div></div><br />I hope you enjoy your weekend....Darlenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06081653211179263967noreply@blogger.com14