tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-266131042024-03-06T23:27:04.949-05:00LuLu's PetalsA little bit of this & that - A little bit sappy-
The petals of my life-
up, down, crazy, ordinary or happyLucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.comBlogger679125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-71530781484542723272019-01-10T19:41:00.000-05:002019-01-10T19:41:13.627-05:00Wish I was a little bit taller<div>
Recently I had an experience that made me feel that it may NOT be such a good thing to be an 'approachable' type of person.. I am always the person in the grocery stores that strangers start talking to. Same story in the nail salon, the theater..where ever! Even in restaurants, I've had people look at my food and say.. "hey that looks deliscious!" I must have a face that says.. I'll listen to whatever you want to share and not tell you to.. "Fuck off"<br />I used to not mind having this face.</div>
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Until..</div>
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I went shopping for a sexy pair of .. I guess they're called.. hooker heels! You know.. the type that at MY age you wouldn't dare leave the house in (or maybe actually attempt to walk in!) They kind of have one purpose, no? Having a difficult foot to fit, instead of shopping online.. I ventured out to my shoe warehouse.. hoping not to spend too much on these babies... (between the sexy Christmas gift I got him and now the shoes, it may be more reasonable to just hire him a real hooker.)</div>
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As I was quietly minding my business and trying on different pairs of HIGH shoes.. A STRANGER approaches me.. " Oh MY God, Where are you going to wear those??".. first thing that came to my mind & I answered with a friendly smile.. "Oh i have the perfect outfit for this" (she should see it haha).. and I went back to <i>trying</i> to stand up..</div>
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A few minutes later... ANOTHER lady.. "WOW they're really HIGH.. you're actually going to buy those?.. I laughed and said 'Maybe'.. Tried to turn away from her... but she continued.. "Are you going to be able to walk in those" ( <i>what I need them for doesn't usually require walking</i>).. but I just replied.. I am pretty sure I'll be okay.. thanks.. (I so wanted to say NONE of Your Fucking business but us approachable types can't hurt feelings)</div>
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A few minutes later with about 5 boxes of various crazy looking shoes near my little bench.. one of my neighbors sees me and HE comes over for a hug! He laughs and says... OMG what the hell are you shopping for?!! I could feel the heat rush over my beet red face... "OH, I was just fooling around, wasting some time, I could never buy these!" <i>change subject Lucy!.</i>. <i>move away from the shoes that are screaming Street walker!... Try to walk him towards the door!..</i></div>
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He finally left me alone... I was nearing a decision, when you guessed it..</div>
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ANOTHER woman approaches... "Oooh, They're so high! When would you wear those?" I gave HER the red face when I replied.. " Oh at work, I'm a part time pole dancer." (my brains kinder version of 'fuck off") and I swung my red hooker heels confidently to the cashier. </div>
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You know that feeling when you have an experience and afterwards think of ALL the things you Should have, could have, wished you would have said. yeah.. satisfying when you get it right. Apparently, FOURTH times a charm for me. </div>
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Seriously though, As I started thinking about this experience, I don't know why I wasn't just plain honest with these shoe shopping women. Maybe I would have encouraged them to make a 'fun' purchase too. It's not a crime after all. As open of a person as I am I don't understand why I Wasn't just honest. Maybe I'll go back for another pair in another color and give myself the chance to stand Tall with friendly approachable.. honesty. </div>
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NO one reads my blog anymore... but if you happen to..</div>
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How would you have hoped to handle the same situation? ty!</div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-68447886581999040552018-11-25T16:17:00.001-05:002018-11-25T16:19:41.682-05:00<style type="text/css">
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<span class="s1">My nose and ears are growing, my eyes are getting smaller</span></div>
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<span class="s1">They tell me that I’m 4 -11 but I used to be taller.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Osteopenia! Saggy boobs! droopy Ass!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">I can barely See ya and I’m looking through Bi-focal glass<br />
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I’m feeling so forgetful or did I already mention?</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Oh right, Doc now told me. I may have dementia. :/</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Wrinkles and Arthritis! Thinning hair! barely there!</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Some other kind of ITiS, Not sure as my ears can’t hear</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Bowel Movements now a pleasure, some times they take all day<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">To pass the time I count liver spots or pull out all my grays.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">High Cholesterol! Crooked back!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Creaky knees!</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Cant even eat sweets! Borderline sugar disease!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">My new pastime… Sitting.. as I hope for and wait for mail</span></div>
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<span class="s1">My taste buds must be failing, I thought this bread went stale</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Wasn’t it only yesterday I was young and peppy and spry</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Wasn’t it only yesterday my vagina, not so dry!</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Varicose veins!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Extra chin!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Back end fat!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">My brain is feeling so foggy. changed my name to dingbat.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">They say to embrace aging, they say embrace the change</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I don’t know who ‘they are” but they must all be deranged.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">As long as I can still converse in coherent sentences</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I’ll fight aging, hold it back! like a bad case of flatulence!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-63928331439574577632017-03-06T17:08:00.000-05:002017-03-06T17:09:16.869-05:00Hello in there I've been thinking and worrying too much about aging lately. Today as I stood on line at babies R us for an unbelievably long time as the elderly cashier slowly helped the one hoity-toity person in front of me and as I observed the line behind me grow longer and longer, I almost cried.<br />
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Ruth (she had on a name tag) had a full head of crooked synthetic hair and bright red lipstick and rouge. She was trying to be friendly to the 30 something year old impatient woman she was helping. The woman decked out with her Louie Vuitton purse and expensive looking boots and jacket, rolled her eyes at me as if to say.. can u believe how long she is taking. Ruth had a hard time scanning the woman's Iphone to use her coupon. So happy and boisterously she asked Ms. 30 something to read the numbers to her. Ruth stopped her and said NO NO not so fast! where are u rushing to missy? (hoity-toity abruptly said.. WORK!) Ruth then requested they be read to her 4 digits at a time. It finally went through. She tried to put the large Items into bags too small and had to start again. She forgot the gift receipt and had to redo that too. At this point the woman behind me sighed Loudly and said.. really?! My heart just broke for Ruth.</div>
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I'm embarrassed to admit this but in my younger busier days, I too would probably have either sighed or walked off the line or been an eye roller. ( It So upsets me now to know that as being a truth about my younger self but I think SO many young people are just clueless to what it's like to grow older.)</div>
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My mom is nearly 88 and thankfully doing pretty well but of course she is not the same as she once was. </div>
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Recently there was an 'incident' at her assisted living facility and Mom was banned from her favorite pastime (bingo) for a whole week. </div>
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I felt this was a ridiculously stupid consequence as she is paying a fortune and she is NOT a child but my sister who is the person they contact for Moms bad behaviors and health issues, didn't protest. </div>
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I respect and trust my sisters judgement so even though I voiced my opinion to her, I let her handle it her way.</div>
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Mom had forgotten something in the bingo room and went back there with her walker to get it, when she went inside No one was there but sitting all alone on a table was the BIG bowl of candy that they give out to who ever wins each bingo game. Mom decided she wanted that candy! She wanted So much of it that she couldn't fit it all in her pockets of her sweater and pants so she stuck some down her pants! As she walked down the hall back to her room, A candy trail fell out of her pants legs as she walked giving her away!</div>
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As my sister explained this to me and was conveying how embarrassed and upset she was by this phone call from the director, I just couldn't stop laughing as I could just see this entire 'sweet' scene! </div>
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As adorable as Ruth and my Mom are in my opinion that is also how sad I see their situations too. </div>
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I'm feeling like it will be right around the corner for me that I will be in their orthopedic shoes. It goes by quickly folks. I recently put a bright pink streak in my hair and my youngest son said to me.. gee mom I hate to tell you this, but this is what they call a mid life crisis.. I said Joey I hate to break the news to you, but mid life was about 20 years ago.</div>
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If we are lucky We all WILL grow older and of course behave differently. Slower yes, limited yes, confused maybe but ALL Old people were once young and that young person is Who they still feel like they are inside. It's who they ARE!</div>
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And Like every living person or thing they So deserve to be respected and valued. They deserve patience and understanding. </div>
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No one ever knows what another person is dealing with or has dealt with. Is Ruth working to get out of her house and meet people? Or is she struggling and needs to stand there all day and take abuse so she can eat and pay her bills? Does she enjoy wigs for fun or has she lost her own hair due to illness or chemotherapy? It's so important for us to always think.. how would I like to be treated when I'm that age... I kept thinking of Bette Midlers moving song, Hello in there and when it was my turn at Babies R us.. I smiled big and said "Hello Ruth! How are u today?!" Her surprised look then Big smile and bigger "Howdy young lady" just made my heart melt. </div>
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<pre class="lyric-body" data-lang="en" dir="ltr" id="lyric-body-text" style="background-color: white; border-radius: 4px; border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: 'Droid Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 10px; overflow: auto; padding: 9.5px; word-break: break-all; word-wrap: break-word;">So if you're <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/walking" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">walking</a> down the <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/street" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">street</a> <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/sometime" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">sometime</a>
and you <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/should" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">should</a> spot some <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/hollow" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">hollow</a> <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/ancient" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">ancient</a> eyes,
don't you pass them by and <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/stare" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">stare</a>
as if you didn't care.
Say, "<a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/Hello" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">Hello</a> in <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/there" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">there</a>. <a href="http://www.definitions.net/definition/Hello" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">Hello</a>."</pre>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-64396241218238685992017-02-12T16:11:00.001-05:002017-02-12T16:12:11.937-05:00THE BIG SALAD CAPER <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> My husband and I wanted to take his mom for a nice lunch before an appointment we had to take her to.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We decided on just going to her local diner because my husband is on a special diet and we thought they would have the plain salad he needed.<br />After ordering and stressing to the waiter that he needed his dressing on the side the waiter replied "all our salads come with the dressing on the side." The salad came of course soaked in dressing, my husband nicely asked for it to please be replaced with a salad without dressing.<br />My mother-in-law and I finished our lunch, visited the ladies room and had coffee before my husband's salad came back soaking wet with the faint taste of dressing as it had been obviously rinsed.<br />At this point we were going to be late for mom's appointment so my husband nicely called over the manager and explained what happened. He replied, "of course its rinsed, that's what we do." My husband said well no thank you I am not going to eat this and of course I am not paying for it, to which the manager said in a nasty tone "why don't you just eat the chicken that's on top of it"! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Befuddled, My husband looked at him and like he was talking to someone from another planet he said "I don't want the chicken.I don't want the salad". The manager then THREW a takeout box at the table near my husband and said "well then take it home because you ARE paying for it." My husband calmly said "you may as well call the police because I don't pay for garbage put on on a plate and that is exactly what this soaked salad is.</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We paid the bill SANS the salad, tipped the waiter generously as that's what we do, it wasn't his fault after all and we left and got into the car.<br />The obnoxious manager came running out in the down pouring rain to write down our license plate number!!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">(It was hysterically funny when mom saw him and blurted out from the backseat.."OH PLEASE! RUN THAT LITTLE BASTARD OVER!!!" Glad she wasn't driving!!)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We wished we had the time to wait for the police which bizarre as it sounds they actually must have called judged by how the employees were expectantly gawking out the dirty window before we left.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br />Never have we experienced such a horrible, rude dining experience. In hindsight though,what I think we should have done was </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">charged the entire bill and then disputed with the credit card company because leaving cash on the table makes it their word against ours should we be arrested for petty larceny!!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I would like to think that what my husband expressed to me is true, that the police have WAY more important things to handle and would have been very perturbed to be bothered by such nonsense but since we were driving MY CAR and I am NOT as confident as him about how police policies or police thoughts or actions work, Or as confident about how I'd fare in jail,<br />I've been looking over my shoulder for weeks now. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Outraged by our unfair treatment, many friends have advised me to give them a bad </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Yelp review. Yeah? really? tattling? hmm, That just goes against the ways of my (italian) people but more importantly I'm sure that will only reveal my whereabouts.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I prefer to remain ... lucy on the lam.<br /></span></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-55708550890257531962015-08-02T23:36:00.000-04:002015-08-02T23:36:40.324-04:00happy August"August is like the sunday of summer"...<br />
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what does that quote mean? what does it mean to you? I'm always looking for positive relatable quotes to put in my weekly email to my Zumba students. So on August 1st I sent out that quote. To me.. Sunday is my favorite day of the week. It's MY day. It's me first teaching my Zumba class which I love to do, then relaxing or I'm happily entertaining guests or going out to dinner with friends. I look forward to Sunday. I also love August. My birthday month, beautiful beach weather. So to me, I saw it as "August is as wonderful as sunday."<br />
I think I am the only one who saw that. When I read it to my husband he said.. oh thats sad but true. He said he saw it as Sunday is the last day of the week. the end. August always seems like the official end of summer. hmmm.. That's depressing.<br />
well sure enough, several of my zumba students commented about it and they saw it exactly as he did. <br />
Who wrote this damn quote anyway? I found it in images when I googled Quotes about August. Why am I up this late, still puzzled by this one stupid phrase. <br />
"August is like....the best part of Summer!"~ lucy petals<br />
goodnight. :)Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-10241648270354191282015-05-26T19:54:00.000-04:002015-05-26T19:54:27.567-04:00Oh my papa<i>Continuing from my last post... this is another homework assignment from my recent writing class. We were asked to write about a place we have sat. I took an older blog post I had written years ago and elaborated a bit. It was wonderful having the critique of my classmates and teacher but Maybe I'm stubborn, except for changing the title I decided to leave my story the way I had written it. I will explain at end... </i><br />
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Oh my papa<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">My dad
passed away when I was 3 years old. The memories of him are ingrained in me
because of the stories I've heard about him. I couldn’t possibly have actual memories
of him considering I was so very young. Dad had a heart condition that was
brought on from having Rheumatic Fever as a child. He was frail and restricted
from strenuous activities. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">One of my favorite stories that I was told often
from many family members was how he always carried me around on his shoulders.
I had heard it so often that I began to see the image in front of me vividly.
No matter where we went, it was me on top of pop, my curly unruly brown
ringlets bouncing into my meatball-sized eyes, with that funny lipless smile I
had had<b> </b></span><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">(that is before the self-conscious teenage me practiced like
crazy to change it.) I see my Dads
Kramer-like wild curly hair acting as a nice nest for my tiny baby hands. I see
his secure hands locked protectively around my gauzy dress and rounded back. I
see his gentle smiling eyes and matching lipless smile looking up at me. (Those
same soft expressive hazel eyes it chills and thrills me to see on my eldest
son.) I also see my frazzled, boisterous mother who, I was told, worried that I
was too heavy for her sick husband to carry, she would constantly yell at him
“put her Down!!” As a parent now myself, I sure understand why he didn't listen
to her. If you know you aren't going to be with your kids for too much longer,
I’d think you take your chances and hang on tight while you can. I imagine him
just laughing and saying to her “Oh stop yelling, I’m fine! Look how happy she
is” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">The weird thing about losing a parent
at such a young age is that it seems the grieving process may be opposite of
the same loss as an adult. As an adult the pain is present for a very long time
but it fades the<b> </b></span><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">longer time has passed. All the years of happy memories seem to
comfort my friends who’ve experienced this sadness. The opposite is what I've
been experiencing. Of course at 3 years old I had no clue of what was happening
to my family, to my world. As I grew, there were times I felt curious and times
I felt ashamed about not having a dad. During my teen years, I thought often of
him and wanted to hear all the stories and "get to know" him. As a
young woman planning my wedding I wept for him, for all he had missed. Wept
Knowing that he wouldn't walk me down the aisle. He wouldn't know the woman I
had become or the wonderful man I was planning on spending my life with. Later
I grieved for him not knowing his three amazing grandsons. Heart-broken that
they lost out too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Now, 52 years after Dad has passed, I still get choked up as
I am right now trying to write this. It may happen while taking a walk or just
hearing a touching song. Just <span class="apple-converted-space">thinking of my
Dad always leads me to those awful ‘if only’s “ If only he hadn’t been sick, if
only he hadn’t left his 3 forgotten children. If only.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">Last night I awoke from a heavenly
dream and for a sleepy second or two I thought I actually did<i> truly </i></span><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">remember it all<i>,
just</i></span><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 12.0pt;">
as I have imagined it for all of these years. Little me, in my first happy
place, sitting weightless and carefree, smiling brightly while being carried
off into an idyllic childhood. Cradled on my beloved Dads loving shoulders. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #555555; font-family: Tahoma;"><b><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 29.9pt;">My story was Originally title Oh Pabbi Minn. It's the </span><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 39.8666648864746px;">Icelandic</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 29.9pt;"> version of Oh my papa by bjork. It brings me to tears every time I hear her beautiful voice sing it. My class felt I should have talked about the title somewhere in the story. I felt it took away from my story. So I decided instead to use the english title here. I'm not going to listen to you either!! but am interested to know...what do you think? </span></i></b></span></div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-65945135181611115922015-05-22T20:43:00.001-04:002015-05-22T20:43:25.223-04:00writing class<br />
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J judicious
persistent Jaunt</div>
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O optimistic endless quest</div>
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U unraveling self-awareness acceptance forgiveness</div>
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R reflective responsible resolved</div>
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N nurturing self-preservation passion potential purpose</div>
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E energized engaged enlightened</div>
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Y you. Your lifelong voyage to self-discovery </div>
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I haven't had much time to write these days, so I was excited when I saw my library had a writing class for 3 wed. eves in April.</div>
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I signed right up! I'm Just sharing one of my homework assignments.</div>
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We were to write an acrostic poem for journey. I've been really trying to work on many of the attributes I wrote about. From what I gather from so many of the amazing women I see in my salon, there are SO many of us always working on this. How difficult is it to forgive yourself? What about self-preservation? It's not until we grow older and wiser that we see how important it is to sometimes have to distance ourselves from friends even relatives to preserve our own sanity, our own pride. </div>
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I hear so many heart wrenching stories of unforgiving stubborn behavior in many relationships. parents not speaking to their own children. Siblings squabbling over nonsense. How many times should we subject ourselves to heart ache and unjustified criticism and abuse? Much of it really is downright abusive. I was so happy when recently one of my sweet sensitive friends valued herself enough to say, "That's enough". She walked away from a relationship that had caused her nothing but heart ache. She is a hero to me. I am still having such a hard time with self preservation. hmm..</div>
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Forgiveness too, but my journey is just that.. and if it truly Is a life long journey, I sure hope I have much more time to get to.. Enlightenment. :)</div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-58751702212275366232015-01-27T23:01:00.000-05:002015-01-27T23:10:38.900-05:00forever friend <br />
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">My beautiful Cockapoo Molly has gone to rest<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">She was always so loving, so sweet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;"> Even times when she
was being a pest<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">My heart is so broken, so hollow<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">She’s gone way too soon<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">I can feel her presence in every empty room<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">As I puzzle over why a dogs life’s extremely brief<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">A lesson discovered helps me cope with my aching grief<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">They’re here to teach us that our lives are preciously brief as
well<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">So Instead of worrying about all the small stuff <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">We need to learn how to howl, bark or yelp<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Always have fun! Run! Jump! Sleep well! Play!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Live life to its fullest each and every treasured day <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Take nothing for granted, Love your fellow man<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">And always go outside whenever you possibly can!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Cherish each gesture of love and affection<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Love unconditionally, forgive, pay attention <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Greet everyone like they've been gone far too long<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Enjoy your meals, treats and howling a good song<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Our pets lives may be brief but they’re happy for most of those
years<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">While we spend our extra days overly stressed or in tears<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">If we take cues from our dogs and the messages they send<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #430000; font-family: TimesNewRomanPSMT; font-size: 18.0pt;">Our lives can be happier like those of our cherished
tail-wagging friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-29518676138978840122015-01-13T23:53:00.002-05:002015-01-13T23:53:59.296-05:00I am woman hear me roar? I've got to be me? Why you gotta be so rude?I'm not sure if there was an exact date that it happened to me but it was sometime after this last birthday. Fifty-five, FINALLY it happened.<br />
Like those who quit smoking and proudly know that exact moment they took control, I kind of wish I had an exact date to celebrate each year, to make telling my little story right here or to my friends a little more official. A little more like the Big deal I feel it is. I know and admire so many who've had it happen to them at a MUCH younger age and then there are those I've met, bless their hearts, who seem to just be born with it.<br />
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I'm talking about confidence. Specifically The Confidence it takes to Refuse to take anyones bullshit anymore. I'm Done. that's all I keep saying in 2015. I'm done. I don't know how else to explain the feeling. I am just not letting ANyone ruin my happy, positive heart. I don't want negativity to crowd a heart that truly is looking for the good, looking for a peaceful groove. Looking to just exist in a happy environment, looking to continue to be kind to others and breathe comfortably in my skin. Skin that I am so grateful to be in. I'm grateful to be healthy, to be here, to give love and be loved. As much as kindness is my motto and I've really tried to spread that kindness even in the face of rudeness. I'm done being foolishly kind. If you are rude to me I will sure let you know how rude you are or how you're making me feel. Because, it's bullshit to treat people like they're beneath you. It's bullshit to spread your toxicity and your own miserableness. It's bullshit not to try to be kind to others. "when given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kind.~<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"> Dr Wayne W. Dyer” </span><br />
Being a hairstylist, there's a lot of rudeness that I've just accepted and usually try to just brush off. (eh hem).<br />
Like a client who could for example ask.. "lu, can you razor my bangs again", but instead rudely states ... "today You're going to razor my bangs".<br />
That client? well, they better be careful now. First off, even with the old me... hello! I've got a very sharp razor near your rude face!<br />
(and I'm sicilian!! :)<br />
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Happiness is contagious. Kindness is contagious. Negativity is too. I don't want to be around anyone who is going to continually bring me down and drain my energy. Energy vampires. Of course we all have our bad days and days where we rant in our blogs :) or to our friends and family and I truly DO want to hear when people I love are having troubles or a bad day. But I'm talking about those people who spread negativity every freaking time they're with you. I'm done. Life is definitely too short to waste on them. I may lose a couple of relationships. I am definitely going to lose a few clients. No matter the consequence for speaking my mind and expressing my feelings. Love me/hate me, it's your choice.<br />
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This is an empowering feeling. I wish it would have happened to me sooner. But I'm just happy it happened and I'm feeling good about it. that's all I wanted to share today.</div>
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I'm done.</div>
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<br />Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-7373033946172741692014-12-23T23:07:00.002-05:002014-12-23T23:07:47.881-05:00I didn't think I would remember how to log into blogspot...it's been that long. thanks to the encouragement of my friend giggles I gave it a shot. I have nothing to rant about today. No funny husband stories to share. I probably won't even correct my run in sentences. I just thought it may help me feel better to talk about my poor little Molly. My cockapoo.. her picture right there on the right side of this blog -- <div>
She was diagnosed with an enlarged heart in the summer. Despite the meds she is on, she isn't doing too well. The dr. had said some little dogs do very well on the meds, some go downhill quickly. A dogs lifespan is just too short. She is only 10 and I think her breed can live as long as 16. Even 16, too young. </div>
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She makes a hacking noise that sounds like she may vomit or cough something up, but it's just her trying to catch a good breath. Some nights she sleeps peacefully, some nights she's up all night. I give her cough meds on those nights and try to rub her belly to calm her down which also helps. </div>
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The other day she ran in from outside and literally collapsed right in front of me.the look of panic in her beautiful brown eyes while gasping for air. Oh my god, it was so scary. I yelled out with fear, but quickly acted calm and spoke calmly to her and she was able to regain breathing and stand up okay. I feel she is still having quality of life so I just don't have the heart to put her down. It's not her time yet. But. I know. it's soon. It's so heartbreaking to love a pet and have to lose them. I've been down this road too many times before. Two of our dogs passed away WAY too young. This is the first time I have older dogs and it sure isn't any easier on the heartstrings. </div>
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Cosmo is going to be 13 in January. He is now hard of hearing has many lumps and bumps, arthritis in his legs, and will soon need some anal surgery! Ew. </div>
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Our little friends touch our hearts and lives in such joyous ways. they are always there with their unconditional love, happy tails and devoted companionship. </div>
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When they are gone, so many of my routines will be empty without them. Every time I get ready for bed, Cosmo gets slowly up from his nap, stretches and watches my moves...waiting... patiently for me to get into my bed. He doesn't go into his doggie bed, which is right next to my side of the bed, without me going into mine or without me letting him know it's okay to go without me. He waits by the kitchen sink while I clean up, He sits by the bathroom door as I brush my teeth. If I say.. Go ahead boy you can go to bed... he will cock his cute little head to the side and go on without me.. but if I should realize I forgot to do something in another room, and I leave that bathroom and DONT go right to bed... I hear his little nails on the floor and he finds me and curls up right next to me again. </div>
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I will miss these little friends so much. All I can do for them now, is give them my devoted companionship, keep them happy and love them unconditionally. </div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-65821617950236930692014-02-14T13:43:00.001-05:002014-02-14T13:43:25.774-05:00apple turnoverNy has been hit with one of the worst winters. There's SO much Snow everywhere I look, I am imagining it may still be here for my August Birthday. If you've visited me before, you may have read that my husband, affectionally referred to here as Mr. Petals, has always been a bit of an over thinker. Maybe you would say a perfectionist? Maybe I could say he has a bit of an OCD? Our sons on the other hand instead just say he is F***ing CRAAAzzzy!!<br />
SNOW removal Mr. Petals style? WELL..While every one of my neighbors deal with slushy, icy walks, stairs & driveways at their homes... those areas on our 100 x 100 lot (and even on a section of the street in front of our home!) look like we've just had a little sprinkle of rain.<br />
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When did this obsessive,-do everything Thoroughly, -go beyond the normal- type of behavior happen to Mr. Petals?? I couldn't help wondering this when my son Nick, during the last snow storm, came to me frustrated, angry and venting his "F***ing crazzy" opinion from above. "MOM!! he is CRAZY, he wants me to use the leaf blower and BLOW the PuDDLES!! BLOW THE PUDDLES MOM!! WE JUST SHOVELED FOR 4 F***ING hours and NOW I have to blow puddles??!!! IS HE KIDDING ME??!!"<br />
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As I tried to give a sane answer to my beautiful boy, A memory came vividly drifting back to me... Over 30 years ago, While I was dating my Mr. Petals, I remembered HIM venting to me that HIS Dad would wake up SUPER early on the weekends and do CRAAzzzy things like HOSE off the driveway! Wash the floor of the garage! WASH the outdoor garbage pails! and expect his son to help him do these chores too! I often heard frustrated angry venting back then like...<br />
"WHO the hell cares if GARBAGE pails are dirty??" " GARage floor?? Is he F***ing CRazy??". <br />
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Hmmm.... Is it true? we all turn into our parents??<br />
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I recently visited my mom who has been a saver for many years but who has now unfortunately begun hoarding.<br />
There were so many papers in her home that to begin the shredding process could take a lifetime. I looked around her home and just broke down crying. I've read that hoarding is typical with seniors who don't quite know what to toss and what to keep.<br />
I came home from seeing her and immediately began tossing out papers and cleaning up draws. Organizing things that have been on my mind to organize. Thinking to myself, The apples may not fall far from the trees, but this pink lady is Going to try like hell to roll as far from her crazy tree as possible! <br />
I'm wondering if there is an age where this all begins? After all, As teens and young adults aren't we all totally rebellious to our parents actions? When did you begin to see signs that you're possibly turning into your parent?<br />
As for Mr. Petals, Well.. I talked to him about his Elder Tree, and his similarities. At first he paused, as if shocked by the memory and then he just laughed like crazy, stating he is who he is and he just can't help wanting to do everything the best that it can be done. As for me, I found myself thinking about all this a lot yet focusing NOT on all the wacky stuff he's inherited, but instead on ALL the good, wonderful qualities his Dad also passed on to him and in turn I know he is passing on to our three sons<br />
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Thinking of that made me also turn over a new leaf of acceptance when it comes to my own Elder tree.<br />
Sadly, Maybe I WILL inherit tendencies towards clutter and disorganization but I'm happy I've already inherited beautiful traits like my Moms love for music, singing, fun, games and Craaazzzy people.<br />
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<br />Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-77828030593964782972013-07-12T17:34:00.003-04:002013-07-13T18:24:04.188-04:00ANKLE SHMANKLEI will be 54 next month and I'm relieved to tell you...I've NEVER broken a bone! this is the result of being a cautious, adventure-less, nervous nelly. My kids on the other hand....Sheesh... that's another post.<br />
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Three weeks ago I was teaching my Zumba class at the library where they are replacing the A.C.</div>
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( who the heck replaces a system in summer?!) HOT doesn't have enough letters to describe how uncomfortably hot it was in that room.</div>
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The sweat covered ken tile floor was just too much for my purple ZOOM Nike's and DOWN I went!</div>
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I was more stunned that I suddenly was on my Buttocks then I was embarrassed for being down there.</div>
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I didn't even realize I had slipped, it was that quick.</div>
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I felt a shooting pain on the top of my foot, but once I stood up... it didn't hurt too much... so what do you do when you're a CRAZY albeit nervous nelly?? YOU keep on dancin'! Like I thought I was in Pippin or something, the show must go on! so crazzzzzy lucy gets up, motions to her sweet concerned Zumba girls that she is OKaY! And continues the FUN,Fabulous songs for another 15 min.</div>
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My ankle felt 'fragile' but it didn't hurt to dance, walk, climb the library stairs or drive home. </div>
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Regardless, I decided to R.I.C.E.all that day! (Rest, ice, compression and elevate.)</div>
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The following day I worked a 10 hour day on my feet. By evening, my ankle was So swollen, that I got VErY nervous.. I called my orthopedic, but he and his group were at a convention! the following day, I worked again, but cut my day short to ice and rest some more. One of my sweet friends was an ER nurse, she looked me over and she told me she thought it was just a sprain. I felt relieved by her opinion and It felt well enough that I decided to teach Zumba monday and tuesday with the help of my amazing Students, who know my routines real well. </div>
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About a week later, my ankle was less swollen and only hurting in certain positions. But I decided (thanks to a client who owns an insurance company) to be smart and see my doc. to touch base (and document my fall, especially that my lower back was hurting too ) My dr. didn't think my ankle was broken but thought an MRI would be smart, since i am on my feet for both of my jobs. She wanted to make sure ligaments, tendons (and whatever else we have in there )were Okay. ( I will have to wait for insurance approval.) The next day, I decided to spring (well , summer)clean my neglected bedroom. I got up too quickly from being on my hands and knees vacuuming under furniture and accidentally put all of my weight on the top of my foot and I SCREAMED profanities to an empty house like a downed surfer to the roaring sea. WOW....took me back 20 years to the labor and delivery room!</div>
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For the next week, my ankle felt worse than it did after that library zumba class.</div>
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I decided to call my podiatrist. ankle? foot? same thing,no? he is right near my home and he is a BIG personality and a GREAT dr. ... unfortunately, he was away (surfing?) but his associate was able to see me.</div>
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He did an xray, and told me that I didn't have a sprain I instead had a fractured fibula!! My first break in nearly 54 careful, boring years??? I could, however, continue doing all I was doing and it would heal... I felt like such a moron. I was beating myself up for not getting an xray sooner. If it were one of my dare devil, accident prone sons... they would have been in the ER the same day! I drowned my regrets and foolishness in two lovely glasses of pinot noir and fell asleep. </div>
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Today My dr.called, telling me she got the approval for the MRI... when I told her it was a fracture, she said it would be smart to see an orthopedist. I started feeling so stupid AGAIN! although, that IS who I called initially, that is THE bone expert, right?? Why didn't I try him again? It's been 3 weeks and NOW I want to see him...sooo desperately! I suddenly think the Foot dr. is a moron too! I don't trust anyone but this BONE man who I SHOULD have called back!</div>
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Well, I just came back from Mr. bones office. he couldn't make out anything in the cloudy,foggy xray that the podiatrists RECEPTIONIST took.... so he took his own. Guess what? I have a freaking SPrained ankle and it will talke time, but It will be FINE! It is NOT a BREAK! my sweet ER nurse friend was RIght! I still feel stupid and overwhelmed... even though I writing this while on my 2nd glass of pinot. </div>
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-87944314098329462942013-05-25T00:02:00.001-04:002013-05-25T00:03:29.466-04:00An Invisible Thread<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="color: blue;">Back in February, I had TWO weeks off from work, as I was recuperating from some minor hand surgery. Finally! A PERFECT opportunity to truly participate in my book clubs next discussion, by Actually reading the book selection instead of just showing up for their great company and delicious food! I had been absent from the previous meeting but the girls emailed me to tell me our selection was "An Invisible Thread" a non-fiction book from a local author.</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: blue;">Before I settled down in (mr. Petals) recliner with a pillow for my elevated hand, ice pack, ipad, cell phone, cup of tea and book club book.. (okay... there were cookies too...many cookies). I asked my husband if he knew this local author who was from his home town of huntington station. He looked at her picture, and read her name, 'Laura Schroff, No I don't know her." ( hmm..he said that too quickly and with such disinterest.) I sat down and googled her name and found out she also went to his high school and as he kissed me goodbye, I asked him Yet again... <i>ARE u SURE??</i> With excitement I added...she went to your high school!! she's only a few years older than you!!... ( I can be quite annoying I guess) because he impatiently snapped back.. I DON'T KNOW HER! So off Mr. Grumpy went to work. </span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>AH... this felt so good (despite my throbbing hand) to have a day to myself and to finally settle in to read, I had missed it. ( lately, zumba choreography has taken up all of my down time)</b></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><b>The story had me instantly glued to it. I couldn't put it down, tea went cold, I didn't even eat every cookie. Not long in to 'An invisible thread' the author mentions her maiden name. It was very familiar.. I could have SWORN my husband had mentioned that name to me. (married for 33 years, I've been a pretty GOOD Listener... and apparently have a much better memory than I give myself credit) I peeled myself away from the intriguing pages and took a much needed bathroom break then also gave Mr. Petals a call on one of his busiest work days. "Hey Honey, how's it going, you know that author u said u didn't know"? He sighed and I heard him quietly say "eye eye eye" (who is he? ricky ricardo?) "Well, I just read her MAIDEN name and it sounds SOoo familiar, Didn't you know the Carino's? Her dads name was Nuzie". </b></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: blue;"><b>There was silence on his end for a few seconds.... He said... "What?!! LU... She is my Cousin!"</b></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><b>"(Sucking in air...) seeee!!! I KNEW YOU HAD TO KNOW HER!!!" (hee hee) He couldn't believe it and quickly started filling me in on some of his memories of her family. Some that I soon read about in the following chapters of this moving, heart wrenching story. I emailed my book club friends to tell them of this AMAZING discovery! One friend wrote back that she was MORE amazed that I was actually reading one of our book selections. (wise guy!) </b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;">Small world that it is, another friend suggested I try to get in touch with Laura via her website, or Facebook. I wrote her a message and to my surprise and delight, she graciously wrote back!! we corresponded a few times and then I also contacted her sweet sister Nancy, who my husband and his sister were friendly with in their youth. She was closer in age to them. My husband spent many years hanging out at her home. They lived on the same block. He had many memories of that time. I found this all so exciting, fascinating and touching! so....</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: blue;"><b>I decided to be bold and just come out and ask Laura if she and Nancy would ever consider taking the hour ride back to long island to attend our book group! As you can see in the photo.. They both accepted! Laura is sitting in the center of the photo and her sweet sister Nancy is on her left. They were both so lovely,kind, warm and friendly. Within minutes we felt we knew them! We were riveted, hanging on to Laura's EVERY word! We really enjoyed Hearing so many additional details of her poignant story as well as all the experiences she has had since. She is incredibly charismatic and can captivate you with her bright eyes, gentle smile and expressive conversation! My sister-in-law who also LOVED the book joined us to reunite with her cousins.</b></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><b>We discussed our family tree. Laura's mom and my father-in-law were First cousins. So we assume that makes Laura and my father-in-law second cousins, and then she would be third cousins with my husband and his sisters. I mentioned cousin 'once removed' and it totally confused us all... so we are sticking with third cousins! </b></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: blue;"><b>The book's title comes from the ancient chinese proverb which states, an invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place and circumstance. 25 years ago, Laura was destined to meet and befriend Maurice, a hungry 11 yr. old panhandler. This year maybe she was destined to meet her long lost cousins wife Lucy. We sure hope to keep in touch with this remarkably kindhearted soul. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="color: blue;">*Laura has made many tv appearance including Kathy Lee and Hoda , Rachel Ray and Mike Huckabee.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">If you want a beautiful, uplifting, honest book that will touch your heart, break your heart yet leave your heart believing there truly are really good people in this harsh world, you MUST read this wonderful book! Laura's website is http://www.aninvisiblethread.com/ You can watch a video of her and her friend Maurice. Their friendship and story can not be missed.</span><br />
<span style="color: blue;">hope you will give me YOUR review! </span><br />
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Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-6743753852994061872013-02-11T17:27:00.002-05:002013-02-11T17:27:32.092-05:00Laughter is the best medicine I have been off from work and healing from trigger finger surgery. yesterday I sent my husband to the grocery store to buy something he could cook for dinner. I had a small list which included my (recent) favorite candy.. peanut chews. After a while, he calls me from the candy aisle... he can't find them. While I am describing the packaging so he can better locate them, he said "Oh, it wasn't on the list but I also picked up bagged lettuce so I can make us a salad." I said... we don't need it, we have plenty of lettuce home.<br />
<br />
When he walked in the front door ...not only had he picked up the meat, the oranges, the garbage bags, tissues and the desired peanut chews... he had Two bags of chips, MORE bags of candy (which he claims he picked up thinking he wouldn't find the chews and then didn't want to put them back, because he knows I love twizzlers and raisinets too!) THREE huge bags of peanut chews AND TWO bags of pepperidge farm milano cookies!! I know this is his way of taking "good care" of me<br />
(and HIM) while I mend. So I just smiled and said "ARE u kidding me?? you are too funny, I'm going to gain 100 lbs these two weeks!"<br />
<br />
As we were eating dinner... he said... you know, I feel a little bad now, I didn't feel like going all the way back to the produce aisle so I just put that lettuce back on a random shelf.<br />
I literally started choking on my vinegary salad.... due to hysterical laugher... I finally was able to speak to share what went immediately through my mind. I said...please tell me...it wasn't the candy shelf was it?? haha...<br />
If anyone was watching you they would see you putting ALL that candy in the cart on top of the chips and cookies and then you go.. NAH... i don't need no stinkin lettuce! And you put it on the candy shelf!! I could just see it so vividly and he could too and we both just couldn't stop laughing for so so long. <br />
I just know that somewhere there is someone writing a blog post about the chubby guy in the candy asile at stop and shop, who had second thoughts about adding lettuce to his cart. Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-7524149935239436642013-02-10T16:33:00.000-05:002013-02-10T16:33:15.467-05:00Illuminate...literally<br />
<br />
..it all began with that biatch..sandy. aka... superstorm sandy.<br />
<br />
We were very lucky Ny'ers.. we only lost power for one week. With the horrors others were going through we didn't want to gripe about having no power/ heat/ hot water.. instead we tried to focus on what we were grateful for AND what was useful... talking often about (to whoever would listen) these 6 little LED tap lights that we had picked up at costco back in the summer...JUST in CASE we ever lost power. they even had a remote... coming home late at night...you just hit the remote and five of these lil discs would brighten up our kitchen and den brightly enough to make it to the bathroom where the other one was.<br />
Well, I found them smart and helpful but my (crazy) husband got crazy with them! They had double sided tape so he taped one up on the underside of my beautifully faux painted ceiling fan blade, claiming the light was better illuminating DOWN on our scrabble board. (it was) He also taped one under the soffit above the kitchen sink,<br />
(allowing me to see the dirty dishes past 3 pm) but ....6 little lights were NOT enough.. he NEEDED more! He's always been one to OVER-do a good thing... He is always teased about how he likes making things better until they're worse.... for example-his garlic mashed potatoes... they are amazingly delicious... so what does he do? he tries to Out do them each time, till we want to puke from TOO much butter and garlic.<br />
back to my illuminated home...<br />
He goes back to costco... they of course are sold out of anything related to a power outage, except cheese... ever notice how much cheese is on their shelves? they'll never run out. (related how?)<br />
<br />
So Mr. Petals keeps on checking weekly... well right before christmas he hits the LED jackpot. Not only do they have the 6 little round tap lights... they now have something BETTER! STrIpS of led lights that can be MOunTED with screws! (yes the tape ruined our paint) and wait for this................ they have MOTION CONTROL TOO! <br />
He says he wants to get ready if we lose power again... I thought.. He is getting ready for the Nut house!<br />
<br />
Now we have these rectangular strip lights on motion control mounted to the kitchen cabinets, molding, bathrooms and even in the boiler room above the panel box. (the electrician thought this a genius idea!) We don't turn on light switches at night anymore.. like royalty... everywhere we walk is just illuminated!! (please read that last line with your best english accent)<br />
I got a bit on the crazy train and asked for them to be mounted in some of the darker clothes closets. which you must admit is a smart idea too! (can u 'catch' crazy like the flu??) because...It all began to seem normal and quite smart to me...<br />
<br />
But then... My son came home from college for the holidays. After a few days being home, He pulled me aside one morning and with a look of concern he asked ... "mom?, what is UP with ALL of these stupid lights going on everywhere I Go?? I can't even walk around the house at night, thinking I will wake u guys up! Have you and dad gone crazy?"<br />
hmmm.... he made me wonder again! I replied warmly... we may be Joey...but at least it's a nice BRIGHT shade of crazy!! Do u want one in YOUR room? ;)<br />
<br />
visit <a href="http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/"> sunday scribblings </a> for more illuminating stories Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-44315075373228233852012-09-20T17:16:00.001-04:002012-09-20T18:57:29.353-04:00the GOOD and bad of this past week<span style="color: lime;">The good</span>... I taught an extremely HIGH energy one hour Zumba class on Sunday. I was feeling very 'on' despite feeling very nervous/anxious to know that two zumba instructors were taking/observing my class because they've heard great things about how I teach, As was one of my bosses at another zumba job.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">the bad</span>.... after class my heart didn't feel so well... not really racy because we did have a 10 minute cool down...just a weird feeling of pressure and me being conscious of it which I never experienced before.<br />
Then, On the drive home I had indigestion, and weird discomfort in my left arm.<br />
I kept pushing thoughts of 'heart attack symptoms' out of my usually neurotic brain and took a shower.<br />
I tried to eat lunch, but felt nauseous and couldn't eat.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: lime;">The Good</span> AND <span style="color: red;">bad?</span>....<span style="color: orange;">GOOGLE</span>... gee's it's either a life saver or death sentence, isn't it?...<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">The bad</span>... after reading that I had FOUR heart attack symptoms and how usually women's symptoms are more of a 'whisper'... I began to feel very panicky as I thought of my 42 year old neighbor who came home from work this past June with only pain in his left arm. He chose valium & a nap over a 911 call<br />
and never woke up! My other neighbor also had subtle signs and his wife forced him to get checked and he found he had indeed had a heart attack!<br />
<br />
<span style="color: lime;">The Good</span><span style="color: blue;">-</span> I decided to chew two low dose asprins.<br />
<span style="color: red;">the bad/stupid.</span>. Yet, I forced myself to push all those crazy thoughts out of my overly imaginative mind, determined to enjoy the most gorgeous weather and take a drive to the beach to walk with my husband... I continued getting ready for the beautiful day we had looked so forward to sharing but as I put on my blush... my jaw began to hurt... Symptom FIVE! Yet, I said nothing and got in the car to head off for our lovely day off together.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: lime;">The Good- </span> as we got to the gas station, I felt another flutter in my chest, I began crying and panicking and decided it's SO much better to be safe and alive than dead and sorry, So...finally I called 911 from my car as my husband stepped on it and drove the 3 minutes back home in only 1 minute to meet The ambulance and paramedics who were dispatched. They arrived in 2 minutes time! They were all wonderful despite me not being able to stop crying, i guess from fear, embarrassment, more FEAR. My EKG was normal but they still needed to get me to the hospital because the blood work would be the determining factor.<br />
<span style="color: red;">the bad</span>- my blood pressure which has ALWAYS been 120/70 was 170/90. That really made me worry, probably pushing it even higher.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">The bad-</span> Why is it that even without a siren on... EVERY neighbor knows to come outside and stare when there is an ambulance and several other emergency vehicles on a street. more tears/ fears/embarrassment :(<br />
<br />
<span style="color: lime;">The Good</span>- The EMT HEROS were so wonderful and really tried to make me feel calm and safe. I've never been in an ambulance before, but they made it much less traumatic.<br />
After IV fluids, and two series of blood tests in the ER.. They determined I DID NOT have a heart attack, most likely a panic attack! although my pressure was still high, they finally let me go home with instructions to follow up with a cardiologist.<br />
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<span style="color: lime;">MORE GOOD!</span>- after two <span style="color: red;">BAD</span>,worrisome days of just not feeling well and STILL having subtle symptoms and still believing in my heart that my heart was somehow not doing well... my cardiologist yesterday, gave me a check up and convinced me that what I've been going through is more likely related to anxiety about worrying and THINKING I <i>was</i> having a heart attack. Between The scary thoughts of my poor neighbors, the worry I shared with her about my grandma who died at MY age in her sleep of a heart attack, and the worry that I am teaching extremely physical classes at my age, and the fact that I really AM an overly imaginative, extremely sensitive, crazy girl! She reminded me of the stress test I had two years ago that I did 'OFF the charts' Exceptionally well on! She wants to repeat another stress test but in the mean while... wants me to continue LIVING my life and put my fears and worries behind me. (an occasional xanax or glass of wine is recommended as well!!)<br />
I am so grateful to be okay and I think it's my extreme fear of dying that keeps me always thinking the WoRSt! I am reminded of a lyric in the BEAUTIFUL Jason Mraz song...'living in the moment' that I should REALLY start following... he sings... <br />
"I will not waste my days thinking of all kinds of ways to worry about all the things that will NOT happen to me"<br />
<br />
How often do you do this? I tend to spend too much time dwelling on thoughts of 'what if this happened and that'?? and what would i do IF this or that happened??... when often those fears never materialize. When these crazy/wasteful thoughts come into my mind... I am going to try to merengue them away and just try to enjoy<span style="color: magenta;"> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZoG-r34LokE">living in the moment.</a></span> ! <br />
:))<br />
<span style="color: lime;">xtra good stuff that I almost forgot to include....</span><br />
the loving words, actions and devotion of my husband who would NOT leave my side. The love, healing words and concern from my best friend Carol. My three sweet loving boys. Also..<br />
getting home from the ER to the beautiful concerned phone call from my sweet friend/ neighbor Lynn and the next day...finding a YUMMY tin of homemade cookies from another lovely friend and neighbor Emily, with a note that made me cry... "PLEASE DON'T EVER SCARE US LIKE THAT AGAIN!" (there's So much good in my life!)<br />
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<br />Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-63951909428279117662012-06-10T14:34:00.001-04:002012-06-10T15:51:51.076-04:00broken resolutionsWhen the little red car pulled into the gravel driveway, Annie jumped away from the broken window pane, a window she herself had broken in anger, she bolted, heading for her mothers cluttered bedroom closet. As she ran, her worn thin, pink bathrobe flew open behind her and for a second she imagined being a soaring butterfly. She hoped her big sister didn't see which way she was running. Annie didn't realize that the closet wasn't a secret destination. Her family knew it had always been a hiding spot for her. To Annie, it was more of a comfort zone. She liked hiding under the big brown quilted winter comforter that was balled up in the tiny corner. She loved the smell of her moms perfume on all the long gowns and shawls that hung in plastic bags in that comfy corner. She also loved moms 'hidden' jar of poker pennies on the closet shelf, which she 'borrowed' every time she heard the happy tune of her neighborhood ice cream man. <br />
Annie sat as quiet as she could and thought about how the little red car sort of looked like a lady bug without the black spots. There was NO way they were going to make her get in that dumb car and go with that strange man. That undefinable feeling came over her again, A feeling that felt like her best interest wasn't really being looked after. A feeling of dread, insecurity and fear. It was a scary feeling, being only 8 and not trusting the decision of the person that you know is your guardian, your parent, the grown up who's suppose to know best about making sure that you are always going to be okay.<br />
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Annie's mom had called Frances from her waitressing job a few minutes earlier and snapped at Frances about a man who was coming over to pick up Annie and bring her to school. "Get her ready Francie!" Annie's big sister Frances was accustomed to taking care of Annie, taking orders from their Mother and spending time cooking and cleaning their small shabby home. Wishing instead to spend more time giggling and primping with her 14 year old girlfriends from school. School! Frances hadn't been there all week. Like Annie, playing hooky from school had become a regular habit. It wasn't too difficult to over sleep and skip school when there was no one home seeing to it that you got up and out.<br />
<br />
Frances gently slid the closet door to the side, peeling away another white paint chip and knelt down low. "Annie, I know you're scared, but this man is from your school and it IS safe to go with him. You've had too many absences Annie, they know you're not sick. You won't be in trouble but You need to let me help you get washed and dressed and you have to hurry up and go." Frances always had a softer way of mothering her than their own mother did. Whenever Annie was home alone with Frances, Annie's disguise never appeared. Annie's trust of Frances suddenly overpowered her fear of the strange ladybug man. Quietly, with tears streaming down her face mixing with breakfasts maple syrup still on her cheeks, Annie cooperated and got ready for school at 1 in the afternoon.<br />
"what do I tell the kids Free"? whispered Annie. Free, the nickname 2 year old Annie had given her big sister when she couldn't pronounce Francie. Frances' heart skipped a beat for her little sister, trying to be so brave while suppressing stabbing sobs. Silently she cursed her mother for allowing this to happen. What mother gives permission for a little kid to go with a total stranger. Why couldn't SHE just leave work and take Annie to school herself? Herself.. hmm... She answered her own question.<br />
Giving a gentle hug to the tiny shaking shoulders in front of her, she replied, "just tell them you're feeling all better now Annie".<br />
<br />
Mr. Crawbid opened the passenger door for Annie. He was very tall, very polite and his car smelled like fresh cut grass. Inside the car between their seats Annie quizzically spied a zigzagged slot holding a black stick with a brown leather handle with random letters on it. Mr. Crawbid kept moving it as they drove along. Annie had never seen a car like this before and she didn't take her big brown eyes away from that black stick even while Mr. Crawbid asked her what her favorite color was (pink.) and if she liked Mrs. Wolfes class.(yes.) <br />
<br />
When they got to George Washington Elementary school, Mr. Crawbid walked with Annie to her classroom and Mrs. Wolfe greeted her with a big genuine smile. "Annie! So nice to see you! Glad your feeling up for school today! The class is at recess but will be back very soon, you can take your seat and wait for them." When the kids came scurrying, noisily back in, Zachary and Billy, who were the known trouble makers in class 2-4 walked right up to Annie and Billy offensively sneered "weren't you absent? why did u come to school so late weirdo?" As much as Annie loved Free and her good advice, she didn't reply, she resolutely decided never to confess what had happend today. She buried her matted head of dark curls down into her arms on top of her ink smudged desk, mentally pulling on her invisibility costume. The very same disguise that she so often wished would disappear at home.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/"> sundayscribblings </a><br />
<br />Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-18771544583541353042012-06-01T21:48:00.002-04:002012-06-01T22:38:56.938-04:00Inside the fortress of CRAZY!<span style="color: blue;"><b>Every week your trash is picked up but do u ever really pay much attention? I always remember our collectors at Christmas time, If I am outside while they're out front, I wave. That's about it. Although, when my kids were small and we were always outside, I do remember offering a drink occasionally on a hot summers day, and of course there was that classic time at christmas when i ran down the street screaming for the 3 garbage men ...well that's a story that deserves it's own post at another time... anyway..</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>Mr. Petals?... he doesn't miss a beat "We must have a new garbage man working on the truck". According to my crazy husband, this new guys 'signature' is turning ONE pail upside down, which is turning Mr. Petals inside out! A few weeks ago he comes inside all gruff ( i think he even grunted). "AGAIN! Why they have to turn the pail upside down, I have NO Idea! makes it more difficult for me now! " Then a few days later he says to me (as if it's the first I am hearing it..) "This must be this new guys signature...One up and one upside down, it's so stupid!" I resisted saying 'You told me this already'... (ie..see 'marriage is a marathon' post below.)</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>A few days ago when we're driving down our street... he points out SEVERAL homes in our neighborhood... YUP... One down and the others UP! AGAIN.... he tells me "look..LOOK at this... this is this BASTARDS signature!" I HAD to finally say... "honey you've told me this already,I know, I know.. it's his SIGNATURE garbage pail maneuver, he's trying to leave his mark all over our town.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>YESTERDAY was my breaking point, but thankfully I broke into a fit of laughter instead of screaming at him... when he came in all irritated and said "this F***ing garbage man... this must be his signature move... one up one down.. what the hell? " I was washing dishes at the time and literally FELL over into my kitchen sink hysterically laughing!! At that point ... he realized he had said this to me BEFORE! i pointed out...MaNY times before and he went into a fit of laughter! I said... is this how our old age is going to be?? </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b>I guess as my memory gets worse, I won't even notice his repetitiveness. (unless he is standing on his head)</b></span></div>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-6034974485044461952012-05-25T22:38:00.000-04:002012-05-25T22:43:47.861-04:00finally!I just can't get enough of this perdue chicken in a bag... affectionately known by me as "the big chicken"<br />
as it was cooking today... I kept talking about it to Mr. petals...." i can't wait for the big chicken"<br />
"omg... smell that delicious big chicken" " i can not WAIT to EAT the big chicken" "what are YOU eating for dinner? the big chicken is all mine!" Then.... while we were eating it.... S I L E N C E! when no one is talking at my table, you can bet we are LOVING our food like CRAZY!!!<br />
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It all started a few months ago when we went to a friends for dinner and she served an oven stuffer roaster and hers was moist delicious and cooked perfectly! I told her HOW much I love chicken, but every time I attempt one of these BIG boys, despite meat thermometer and carefully calculating its timing, as I carve it, I notice it's under cooked, have to put it back in the oven, wash the plate, knife and WAIT! The whole pink juice, raw chicken thing just makes me sick and turned off! Then, i usually put it back for TOO long and I dry it out and the side dishes are ready and the chicken is gross and there is A LOT of conversation at the table that night. So she told me her method of roasting it, the next week i tried to do it her way...PINK!<br />
I then told my meat lady this... ( the lady who puts out meat at the stop and shop) She is very friendly and we say hello each week. SHE suggested the big chicken. I have to say...It is FOOL proof! first off ... no washing that raw chicken which always reminds me of a baby and kind of freaks me out. This sucker comes in a cooking bag, seasoned and ready to roast! Another great thing? the amount of juice in this bag is GREAT start for chicken soup! I always time it for 100 minutes and it's perfect! I use the leftovers and carcass and Voila... soup for dinner the next day! BUT- Even better....When I don't make soup...<br />
Well... Did u ever notice, In many movies and tv shows, whenever they open the fridge to look for a snack, there is a delicious BIG yummy looking drum stick in there?? SO often, I've said to my husband through the years... Mmm that looks so good,wish I could get up and find a snack like that in our fridge! YUP.... on my way there right now!<br />
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( i sound like a perdue commercial, don't I?) here is the web address if you want to see what it looks like!!<br />
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<a href="http://www.perdue.com/products/details.asp?id=447&title=PERDUE%AE%20OVEN%20READY%20Whole%20Seasoned%20Roaster%20(6%20lbs.)">http://www.perdue.com/products/details.asp?id=447&title=PERDUE%AE%20OVEN%20READY%20Whole%20Seasoned%20Roaster%20(6%20lbs.)</a><br />
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<br />Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-5426883921504862412012-04-22T14:36:00.000-04:002012-04-22T14:36:13.407-04:00Marriage is a marathon of give and take<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">My husband and I had an argument yesterday. It was so upsetting but thankfully it's so rare. We really get along very well and since arguing is NOT my forte yet he could argue the fleas off a dog, I am relieved it's infrequent. As we are growing old together some of our annoying traits seem to be getting the best of us. He for example, WON'T admit to it, but he repeats his statements and questions, OFTEN. I am not trying to act like an angel here because I admit I do have some very annoying traits, but I have to say... I wouldn't even mind him repeating himself to me, I would patiently keep repeating the same answer, but WHY I get so annoyed and a bit bitchy is because i KNOW if i did this to him, he would be impatient and SCREAM... 'I already told you this!!!" So ...really, that makes this HIS fault? right?! come on... RIGHT!!!</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">As a matter of fact, most of my impatient reactions are only because (the sicilian? or bitch? in me) I have to give him a dose of his own medicine. </span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">An annoying habit of mine (so HE claims), is that I complain .... A LOT. I used to listen to his criticism, and try to be conscious of when I did it, so I could try to curb it... but after ALL these years married... it started dawning on me several years ago.... He is WAYyyyy out complaining me! Trying to argue my point with this expert arguer would be futile... so i dealt with it in a new way.... I began imitating Mr. Petals at every situation where I just KNEW a complaint would be certain. </span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">(for example)..EVERY single time we have ever driven down a particular secondary road to get to a shopping center, he has always negatively commented.... 'Who in their right mind would buy these big homes on this busy street?" So now.... before we get to the big homes... In my big, booming, best Mr. Petals Voice... I say...</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">(exaggerating my point with a REAL heavy brooklyn ny accent, which he doesn't have but I love to imitate).... 'WhO the hell would buy these freakin homes on this shitty street?? are these stupid people out of their F***ing minds???? ' </span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">And...my husband cracks up laughing at himself. (genius, no??)</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">It's been working every time! When we witness someone driving like a moron.... I BEAT him to the punch... "Freaking Asshole...get off the F***ing road!".... He seems to be getting my point and has really cut back on all this senseless complaining! </span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;">Marriage truly is a test of endurance, we all hope its a long distance test. I am finding the best way to ensure it continues, is to find a balance of love, patience, communication and a lot of (freaking) humor. </span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></b></span><br />
<b><a href="http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/">sunday scribblings </a></b>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-90129757094172792402012-04-20T20:00:00.000-04:002012-04-21T23:15:25.106-04:00SIX YEARS OF BLOGGING<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal;"><b>SIX YEARS OF BLOGGING!? </b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">how can that be?? kind of like... how can it be that my eldest will be 28 yrs. old in two months. I still FEEL 28, well most days i do...certainly not nights, when I get up off that couch and my legs shuffle me oh so slowly to the bathroom, which I need oh so quickly. Six years! how can that be?? kind of like how can it be that my baby is 19! NINETEEN! I was married at 21, he couldn't Possibly handle marriage in two years! Kind of like my middle son being 25... </span><b style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal;">25!!!</b><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"> I had my first baby at 25, how can that be?? He couldn't be a dad now.. how was I a mom then?? How did this happen?? time is flying by way too quickly.. it just can't be that I am middle aged! wait... middle aged... that would mean I have to live to 104. How can that be??</span></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: 100%;">does that mean I am already OLD?? well... more and more people are living past 100.. so that makes it POSSIBLE that this is the middle. maybe I'm just approaching the end of the middle years and the beginning of old age. Wait... </span>anniversaries<span style="font-size: 100%;"> should be happy... this is depressing the shit out of me. 6 years ago when i began this luluspetals blog I was only 46. FORTYsix! how can that be... I will be fifty freaking three this summer! 53! sure... some of you that are older think... sheesshh that's so young! YOUNG??!! my hair is thinning, my wrinkles are growing, my bones are aching, my feet hurt my back hurts (well from my new fanged washing system). If I keep on (occasionally) blogging...in 6 more years I will be 59! that's almost SIXTY! sixty?? how can that be... I feel 28 most days! GEE... repeating myself ... maybe this IS old age? anyway.... todays is my blogoversary... i thought I should write something... this is it!!!</span></span></div>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-1517284055513500982012-04-11T14:15:00.004-04:002012-04-11T14:53:12.193-04:00Why can't they make things like the good old days??<span style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; " ><span>So.. my super large </span>capacity<span> maytag washer blows it's transmission after 5 & 1/2 short years. Is it just my luck? or do u find they are building temporary appliances, designed to break and be replaced every few years. Not appliances only.. it seems I can't even get a frying pan to hang around a year, before it's non-stick surface is non-</span>existent<span>. So after my very trustworthy repairman tells me... "it doesn't even pay to fix this washer...he also adds... "And WAIT till you go shopping for a new one, YOU will hate them... they now have NO WATER! " He explains they are all made to be energy efficient using a fraction of the amount of water that my Super maytag did.</span></span><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><div><span ><br /></span></div><div><span >I set off to the giant appliance store... already soured<span> and determined to find a washer with water.</span></span></div></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >(this is my first mistake)</span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >Oddly enough... Kevin (trustworthy,miracle repairman) is INcorrect... You CAN still buy the 'old fashioned' type ( from 5 years ago) the type with the agitator in the middle and Tons of wasteful water. Woo hoo! Lucy scores what she thinks is one up on this new fangled crap! (mistake two)</span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >They deliver it the next day... </span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; "><span >I notice something I didn't notice in the BIG store... this washer is SMALL ... REAL small. So, I call the salesman and ask if it is as large as my SUPER CAPACITY 'old' maytag?? he gives me a whole lot of mumble jumble that they're measured by cubic ft. now and the old ones weren't ...blah blah blah.... "it should be the same as the maytag". The next day, I attempted to put my king sized sheets in, they just about made it in there, but much more frustrating than that... when I tried to take them out they were SOAKING wet and tied in about 20 knots!!! do u know how difficult it was to undo HEAVY knotted jumbo sheets?? long story shortened... the same thing happened to 2 more wash loads. .. TIMe to call for a repair... on a 2 week OLD <b>new</b> machine!! </span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >Now, mistake three... I SO Wish I could have been home and witnessed... CRAZY mr. Petals response when the repairman tried BLAMING ME (ME! laundry Queen) of Incorrectly loading the machine... he actually asked Mr. Petals... 'Now is your wife <i>placing</i> the clothes in the washer Or <i>Dropping</i> them in?? She needs to DROP them gently and evenly in the machine. My husband said... MY WIFE HAS BEEN DOING LAUNDRY FOR 32 YEARS! ARE U TRYING TO TELL ME THAT SHE NOW NEEDS A LAUNDRY LESSON? SHE IS KNOWN HERE AS THE LAUNDRY QUEEN! IS THIS WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO TELL ME??? I WANT TO RETURN THIS PIECE OF S**T AND GET A NEW ONE! </span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >He was told that they have to make 3-4 repair visits before a return is ever considered... so my husband said...well set up another visit for next week and the week after that...because if that's what it takes... you can waste your time and mine and keep coming back each week until I get a refund... </span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >They came for it the next day.</span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span ><br /></span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span > This time when I shopped... I decided to allow the savy salesman to explain 'high efficiency' to me.</span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >well it turns out...it actually made sense! He used the following analogies... when u wash ur hands... do u want to sit them in a sink FULL of dirty water? or constantly run clean water over them?? and instead of an agitator the clothes rub on each other kind of like how our ancestors rubbed them on a rock near the river in the olden days....(hmmm.... why didn't brilliant Kevin know this theory?) it made some sense to me now.</span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span ><br /></span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >He had me sold, but before I committed, I tried to reach into this Gigantic, agitator-less machine... "Gee, I am on my tippy toes and I<i> still c</i>an't reach the bottom" To which the savvy salesman said... 'does that really matter? do u think you really ever need to reach the bottom?"</span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >( I SWEAR TO YOU.... HE SAID THAT!!!!! YOU JUST CAN'T MAKE THIS SHIT UP!!!)</span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >had he NEVER done laundry??? I looked at him trying VERY hard to not let my expression show him that I thought he was a complete moron now and I wasn't sure I could trust that great sales pitch he had going a minute ago. I looked right at him and softly said..... you know ... you need to reach down and pick up like a sock or something. As I said this, I thought about the step stool i keep in my laundry room and the giant bar-b-que tongs I never use... and....</span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span >I make the decision to go for it. To spend EVEN more and buy this EVEN bigger than super capacity BIG, No Water, No agitator, high efficiency, can't reach into the bottom without tongs or a step stool.... new fangled washer!!! </span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span ><br /></span></div><div><span ><span><span>Well... so far I am happy with the results of the clothes but </span></span><i style="font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">doing</i><span><span> the laundry is a bit more complicated than ever before... Because I am UP on a step stool taking out the wet clothes, I can't simply fling them into the dryer like before... NOW... I keep a laundry basket propped up on top of my rolling hampers. I put the wet in there then have to get down off my stool ( hang up my tongs) and lift the Heavy basketful of wet clothes, put it in front of the dryer and then throw them in there! Modern </span>conveniences! no river,no rock...but made to break our backs ...just like the good old days!</span></span></div><div><span >(picture to come soon!!!) </span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span ><br /></span></div><div style="font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; font-family: Georgia, serif; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; font-family: Georgia, serif; "> </span></div>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-56448077361510073122012-01-22T22:13:00.001-05:002012-01-22T22:57:21.854-05:00possible!<div>The week after new years, I received the nicest call from a complete stranger, with whom I chatted away with, for about an hour! She wasn't sure she had the phone number of the actual person she had been searching for, and after 15 years of searching, she was beginning to think that it may not be possible to ever find ...my husband. (NO, she wasn't a long lost lover or mother of a child he is unaware of!!) </div><div><br /></div><div> Fifteen years ago, When my husband Peter left a salon he had been working at, he tried contacting all of his hair clients to let them know where he was moving to. Unfortunately, he didn't have ALL of his clients contact information. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mary so sweetly told me that she had always been skittish about doing anything with her hair until a friend recommended my husband. He encouraged her to perm her hair and she Loved the results and HIM! she went on to tell me SO many beautiful compliments about his personality, his great sense of humor, his talent, oh and also... how Handsome he is! </div><div>She had asked Peters ex-boss to PLEASE tell her his new location and he (falsely) claimed he didn't know it. A few months later she asked for Peter's last name, hoping she could look him up, but the grouchy boss wouldn't comply. </div><div>Mary went on to tell me that finding Peter became an obsession with her! It also became a joke between her and her daughter Terry, who insisted she should give up, that it was impossible!</div><div><br /></div><div>Mary however, who prior to peter, had been through too many bad hair experiences, always had felt hopeful. She told me that any time she would go to a shopping center and noticed it had a hair salon, she would pop her head in the door and say... 'excuse me, does a Peter work here??" Some times there was a Peter, but not her Peter.. or should I say MY Peter! As the years passed, she eased up her search but still hoped it was possible. Her daughter had dated a man named Peter which then stirred up her head-hunter story again, And again, her daughter would laugh and say..."give it up Mom, you are NEVEr going to find your Peter'!</div><div><br /></div><div>So by now (if you're still with me) you're curious, I'm sure!, to know... HOW did she come to find our phone number and HER Peter! </div><div><br /></div><div>Before Christmas, while waiting to go into yet another surgery, Mary turned to her compassionate nurse and said, I am so upset about losing all of my hair. The sweet nurse said, don't worry, it's going to grow in even more beautiful and before you know it, you will need a haircut. Mary then told her nurse about Her long lost Peter. How she finally had to give in and try another hairstylist, how it was awful and how she then had let her hair grow long, so she didn't have to deal with bad haircuts as often. Denise heard all about the search, All about Mary's friends and family teasing her about her futile attempts. Denise then said... tell me about Peter? where did he work? Mary couldn't remember the name of the salon but knew the street it was on. Denise then asked... Describe him? Mary went on with great detail about his looks and charismatic ways. Denise took Mary's hand and with the kindest smile said... what if I told you, I think I know your Peter!?! I'm pretty sure, who you're describing, is married to my good friend Lucy! Mary was so excited she temporarily forgot what she was going through. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mary went on to tell me that Denise gave her our phone number after the surgery. When Mary's daughter Terry came to the hospital to see her, the first thing Mary said was .. I FOUND PETER!!! </div><div>Terry was worried her mother was still delirious from the anesthesia! She said, They laughed for a long time afterward. </div><div>Mary is waiting for her hair to grow in and as soon as it's long enough, She is looking so forward to visiting with her favorite hairstylist. (they have since spoken)</div><div><br /></div><div>I know I am married to a very wonderful man, but hearing Mary's story not only reconfirmed that fact, but it made me really think about How many lives we all touch in our day to day lives. Wether you connect with many people every day like a hairdresser does, or just the smile that you give one stranger, which may be the only one they receive all day, it's always possible to touch lives in a positive way. </div><div> </div><div><a href="http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/">sundayscribblings</a></div><div> </div>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-6406626618085469432011-12-27T19:22:00.000-05:002011-12-27T19:22:33.249-05:003 gifts! (but no...gold, frankincense and myrrh)<div>Tis the season to be giving! I've decided that I'm going to give all of you, some of my wisdom this festive week! To give away that which you don't have much of... oh BOY! that's truly a special gift! So get ready to jot this s**t down!! Some of our wisdom is passed down to us from our parents. Some of our social graces as well! For instance, it was my mom who instilled in me, that if you EVER visit someone without at least a piece of cake in your hand, you better prepare yourself for a visit to the bowels of hell as well. She also taught me to say please and thank-you and to send a thank you note when you receive a gift. HOWEVER, What she never taught me about but what I want to 'gift' to you today is... '<b>the day after phone call'</b>. It was my friend Flora who passed on this warm social grace to me about 10 years ago! Many of you may already be practicing this one,(Your mom may have been one up on mine!! ) Good for you! (hopefully you will enjoy my other fabulous gifts...smartiepants!)</div><div><br /></div><div>Any time we're invited to a home for a celebration (cake or lasagna in hand!!) Any time someone has us over for a dinner and especially a HOLIDAY dinner, where you know your hostess has killed herself to make this lovely visit possible... it's SO considerate/lovely/gracious/loving/friendly..... to make sure you CALL her the day after!!! </div><div>SO often, you sit with your significant other, reflecting on the day before .... "AWW Flora went to sooo much trouble, wasn't her shrimp scampi delicious? and she even used the good china!" so how wonderful is it to pick up the phone and TELL HER this!?? it's freaking wonderful! trust me! I can't believe HOW many years it took me to begin this crucial ritual!! I used to just say thank you as I hugged myself out their door. Whenever I host as I just did this past weekend and I DON'T get the day after phone call, I usually feel a bit disappointed until I remind myself that not EVERYONE has been gifted this amazing bit of kindhearted wisdom!! (so pass it on!)</div><div>Trust me... and try it next time! you will make your host feel so GReat!! (and great things you do ...always come back to you!) (If they're smart enough to learn from you doing it!!!)</div><div><br /></div><div>GIFT #2!!- <b> the easy knot</b>!!! when my kids were too little to tie their shoes and their shoes were always untying, I learned how to do a knot that UNlike that damn DOUBLE knot that always frustrates and makes your nails split... will EASILY Pull apart when YOU'RE ready to untie!!! GREAT stuff here at Lucy's petals, NO?? </div><div>step 1- make that first loop</div><div>step2- wrap the other lace around the first loop as you normally would but here comes...</div><div>STEP 3!- when you pull the lace around the first loop and into itself... CONTINUE until it's ALL the way thru! NOW.... </div><div>step 4- make a loop with it (bunny ear for those still raising babies) and tie the two ears together!!! Unlike just tying two bunny ears together.... doing it my way allows for you to just pull One lace and it will ALL untie!!! (i bet NOTHING in your stocking was equivalent</div><div> to this one!) everyday as you do this NEW better way of tying...my name should fondly pass thru your brain!</div><div><br /></div><div>Gift 3- <b>OHIO. </b> my acronym for ONly Handle it Once! Bills, thank you cards, thank you CALLS, dr.s appointments, replying to emails, rebate slips, filing, refilling scripts, following thru on anything!... GET IT DONE the first time you touch it, talk about it, THINK of it! If I didn't follow my OHIO rule, my life would be even more unorganized than it already is! </div><div><br /></div><div> So...begin tying the lucy way NoW! then hurry up and call your Christmas hosts! OH... but wait! don't think you're popping back here later tonight...that never happens.... FIRST...drop me a comment!! and in case I don't get back to blogland (OHIO)Wishing you all a VERY healthy, fun, loving and FESTIVE NEW Year! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26613104.post-71688365930498392422011-12-04T22:51:00.003-05:002011-12-05T00:15:16.913-05:00the JOY in gift giving ;)Having small children can really limit a couples intimacy time. When our boys were young, active and ALWAYS within earshot... mr. petals and I found a crafty way to grab some... eh hem... Alone time! <div> We happened upon it accidently... We were locked up in our bedroom frantically rushing, wrapping the kids Christmas gifts one sunday afternoon. Within a few minutes the boys were knocking and asked... what are u doing in there? Mr. Petals replied... 'We are wrapping presents and If you stay in the den and play nice together while we are in here, we will give you ONE early Christmas gift when we're done! Excitedly they complied and excitedly we stole some extra time to unwrap each other, rustling a little foiled reindeer paper here and there, in case one of those little monkeys decided to listen by the door! So began our little genius charade to rendezvous!</div><div> <div>After the new year, we decided to collect tiny, inexpensive treasures and keep them in a shopping bag in our bedroom closet. Fun erasers, plastic soldiers, pogs, fancy pencils, yoyo's, pokeman cards... ALREADY wrapped, READY to go! Sexy mr. petals (also, always ready to go) adopted a new 'line' when he wrapped his loving arms around me... "want to go wrap some presents??" It was Amazing how quiet and well behaved our boys would stay when they thought we were 'wrapping gifts' for them! Quite an innocent fib and small price to help keep our marriages love light burning! </div><div><br /></div><div> The boys are grown now. No more excuses needed for alone time for us, We are empty nesters! But during Christmas time I often get nostalgic so with a wink and a smile I cuddle up to mr. petals and ask...</div><div>"Want to wrap some presents??" </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/">sundayscribblings</a> </div><div><br /></div></div>Lucyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11442070518518821892noreply@blogger.com5