tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40545991835541296512024-03-13T21:24:11.765-07:00Grammie Gabs“Reliable Ramblings in a Wacky World”Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.comBlogger814125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-61738483504363741972023-02-06T05:53:00.000-08:002023-02-06T05:53:09.777-08:00<div>
</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlHYl-sRM7WVKCac0jsXRCV5XiEiSuJ1KPP7uNpj1Wth2L_ueTtiaIWs2FVBPacJKei04lgGWiohdat9yP3IgnEvU6Kg810ZoCkKo_6w6ohC031VbUJCsjk7y6sVLf-8T9sqSM0PULahz6iLOvSlersY-x8WbEqZnWqtLqQp-67Txq7zsko09mw8Njzg/s902/IMG_1295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="902" data-original-width="571" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlHYl-sRM7WVKCac0jsXRCV5XiEiSuJ1KPP7uNpj1Wth2L_ueTtiaIWs2FVBPacJKei04lgGWiohdat9yP3IgnEvU6Kg810ZoCkKo_6w6ohC031VbUJCsjk7y6sVLf-8T9sqSM0PULahz6iLOvSlersY-x8WbEqZnWqtLqQp-67Txq7zsko09mw8Njzg/s320/IMG_1295.jpg" width="203" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br />I've been MIA from this blog for the last year for good reason. November 2021, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. 2022 was a difficult year to say the least. However, I like to believe that good comes from bad. I took last year to write a book about my journey. It is honest, sad and funny all at the same time. I am proud to say it is on Amazon. You can find it by searching my name:<b> Susan Svoboda</b> or the title:</div><div><b></b><b>I Hate the Color Pink. </b>If you pick up a copy, I'd love to hear your thoughts. </div><div><br /></div><div>One in eight women in the United States will get breast cancer. The possibility of it touching you or someone you know is great. I hope this book offers some insight and comfort to those who read it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Unsolicited advice - never miss your mammogram! </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Biggsuzi</span></div><div><br /></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-42646145587846138702022-03-26T15:09:00.001-07:002022-03-26T15:11:16.101-07:00Sunsets<div>
</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2f8dqOuRrOGziTnQJ3yd41CuhPWthQd_YixoeB8443hyZXRt690CGPxdMt-ceVfM-fRiDdzTW9XEhq_LrBeqm-Dn6BpHHrlFiClG8c-yFtTRdoarZvNz9nKrlIZdTiqZ7CNlHYf17zgyZe_qf0VVZrew_mWiw86BTjFpVCSRaEXveelDoWQA1R675wQ/s1936/All%20Sunsets.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1936" data-original-width="1936" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2f8dqOuRrOGziTnQJ3yd41CuhPWthQd_YixoeB8443hyZXRt690CGPxdMt-ceVfM-fRiDdzTW9XEhq_LrBeqm-Dn6BpHHrlFiClG8c-yFtTRdoarZvNz9nKrlIZdTiqZ7CNlHYf17zgyZe_qf0VVZrew_mWiw86BTjFpVCSRaEXveelDoWQA1R675wQ/s320/All%20Sunsets.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">"It is almost impossible to watch a sunset and
not dream.”</span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>While
on a weeklong driving vacation, I told my husband that one of my goals was to
capture a sunset photo each night. While this may sound easy, I mean after all,
they happen every day, it proved to be a challenge. The photos above are the
result of our efforts. Sometimes we stopped in a crazy spot on the side of the
road, risking life and limb to grab the photo. Other nights we were lucky
enough to just be where it was beautiful and an easy shot. Each one is different
and yet similar. I’m not sure what the magic in a sunset is, but I am sure that
each contains that magic. The beauty of the colors is part of it, but I think it
contains so much hope and joy. Even if the day was not all good, ending it with
a sunset proves that there is goodness in each day. The trick is to stop and notice
it. Isn’t that true of so many things in our lives? Stopping and noticing is
the key to finding joy. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Stop. Notice. Appreciate. Repeat.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-87919376287600351512022-03-10T10:47:00.002-08:002022-03-10T10:47:49.750-08:00Tales from the Fourth Grade<div>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjK6uHCIEhNvqUvYTQGZo415JaqqHFVgPve1isRtCcP9TajmGNOhNtlrXS_XpCyahxmynBkglohYWc9CCrpFtwUHv13dBMEg_06QbMbDvXhomtWdCDbcVqSBqKPz7ryfkrXayMbY_gQ1ZxlXWKDxxFPeOaFlwUpAZg3JEeGZsaJZOcUMJdFGewIROiYfg=s400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="221" data-original-width="400" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjK6uHCIEhNvqUvYTQGZo415JaqqHFVgPve1isRtCcP9TajmGNOhNtlrXS_XpCyahxmynBkglohYWc9CCrpFtwUHv13dBMEg_06QbMbDvXhomtWdCDbcVqSBqKPz7ryfkrXayMbY_gQ1ZxlXWKDxxFPeOaFlwUpAZg3JEeGZsaJZOcUMJdFGewIROiYfg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"> When I
was about to enter the 4<sup>th</sup> grade, my parents received word that I
had been accepted at Holy Family Catholic School in Orange. You would have
thought it was Harvard by their overjoyed reaction! Up until that point, I had
been a public school girl. Now the Sisters of St. Joseph would be looking out
for my education as well as my spiritual growth.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> Sister
John of the Cross was my 4<sup>th</sup> grade teacher. I will never forget her!
She was about four feet tall and four feet wide! What she lacked in stature, she more than made
up with her stern scowls and cross words. Strict discipline was her primary
lesson every day. The ruler she carried around also added to her commanding presence.
I was so afraid of her, I worried I might pee my pants as she approached my row
of desks. Back in those days, a Catholic school classroom had about 45 – 55 students.
It seemed the only way to contain that many kids was with this strict
discipline, occasional threats and that darn ruler.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> Every
morning, there were four math problems on the board that we were to solve as
soon as we took our seats. Then, one unlucky student was selected to approach
the board and solve all the problems in front of the class. This one morning,
she called upon Thomas G. I actually remember his last name, but I’m protecting
the guilty! Now we all knew that Thomas G. was the dumbest kid in our class. It
wasn’t meant to be mean, it was just something we all knew. When he went up to
the board, we all held our breath wondering what was about to come next. Thomas
just stood there, like a statue. He didn’t even try to solve any of the math
problems. Sister waited as long as her impatience would allow, then slowly
approached Thomas. When she reached him, she said. “I’m going to knock your
left eye into your right ear!” Of course she didn’t follow through on this
threat but to this day, I can hear those menacing words and feel how very
frightened I was.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> Fast
forward two decades and my husband and I did what was called Marriage
Encounter. It was a weekend of intense learning how to communicate with each
other, share feelings, etc. It was held on the grounds of the Sisters of St.
Joseph campus in Orange. After the first evening, as we were leaving to go to our
rooms, there was a paper posted on the door of the meeting room. It was a list
of every couple attending and the name of the sister who would be praying for
them the entire weekend. As a scanned the list and found our names, guess who
was the nun praying for us?! Sister John of the Cross!! I couldn’t believe this
and had to explain to my husband the terror I felt during the fourth grade in
her class. What were the chances that this particular nun would be praying for
us??!! I shook my head in disbelief.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> Walking
across the campus the next morning to breakfast, there was a nun coming towards
us driving a little scooter. Lo and behold, it was none other than Sister John
of the Cross! You can’t make this up! It felt like a movie script instead of my
real life. Sister wasn’t young when I was
ten years old and now she was downright feeble. She clearly drove the scooter
because she could no longer walk. I felt
compelled to stop her and explain that I was in her class many, many years ago
and now she was praying for my husband and me. That scary, stern woman was the
tiniest, sweetest little person who assured us we had already been in her
prayers and she would continue to pray for us. She even smiled! There was no
ruler in sight. I will never forget the
entire encounter. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> Coincidence?
Maybe? I’d rather think it was God’s hand! Miracle moments occur in our lives
all the time. We just need to notice them.<o:p></o:p></p><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Biggsuzi</b></span></div><div><br /></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-48540883808520949762022-03-06T10:32:00.002-08:002022-03-06T10:32:31.670-08:00Spring<div>
</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoK45W8gG4JRgIxpXoMflsBurYmeBss0QguguNQgcHCdeariLP_wkhtW3dBO84M8v-wwfgcqHDSWjgAK4XyZnGgB9WE7quGviyqJpAPntiRyOHidOfpYI48ZuOHxrZmqX2uV3RxfVmdIXtiguhR4lGDbiLR1F7AkYNr2E-L2hFLBTCz-oY8z9Vi2xLDw=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoK45W8gG4JRgIxpXoMflsBurYmeBss0QguguNQgcHCdeariLP_wkhtW3dBO84M8v-wwfgcqHDSWjgAK4XyZnGgB9WE7quGviyqJpAPntiRyOHidOfpYI48ZuOHxrZmqX2uV3RxfVmdIXtiguhR4lGDbiLR1F7AkYNr2E-L2hFLBTCz-oY8z9Vi2xLDw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><img height="16" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="-webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-repeat: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px !important; border-width: 0px;" width="16" /><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I need to look no further than the orange tree in my backyard to be
reminded that spring is on its way. The tree is covered in white sweet smelling
blossoms that will soon be oranges. After what feels like a long winter (it’s
lasted two years, right?!), there is hope for the change of season and longer,
sunny days to be outside. Spring is also a time when people talk about “spring
cleaning”. While it is usually used in reference to clearing closets of clutter
and putting an extra shine on parts of the house that we may have neglected, I’d
like to also think about our own personal spring cleaning.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">What do we need to get rid of? Anger? Hurt? Disappointment? The longer we
live, the more likely these things have entered our lives and given us pause to
wonder about the true nature of people. Yes, people hurt each other. It happens
to everyone. It leaves its mark on our heart and, often, that mark runs deep. Sometimes
we hurt each other consciously and other times, unknowingly. Either way, the
damage is done. The trick, I think, is to not let these hurts and
disappointments be in the center stage of our mind. Sure, examine them, feel
them and then move on. Give them a small compartment in your head but not all
of it. It’s been proven over and over, the thoughts we have now can control our
future thoughts. Rather than seeing the bad, seeing the good opens up the
possibility of more good entering our thoughts and our lives. Bad breeds bad.
Good breeds good. It’s that simple and yet that difficult. Nobody wishes for a
life of hurt and misery and yet, many of us have a life built on those things
rather than joy and love.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">So grab your mop and Pine Sol and start doing some spring cleaning. And
while you’re at it, allow your mind to get a good spring cleaning as well. Both
will make your life less burdened and give it a much needed shine.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">Happy spring ~ in our houses, in our hearts and in our minds!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Biggsuzi</b></span></p>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-49519344424231585442022-02-25T14:16:00.000-08:002022-02-25T14:16:42.327-08:00We Need to Talk<div>
</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiB8INuG9YILhlQvm6Z67b_rtRei_LJI-57o2Xlo69hVnPVwMA9-D9fUf-4JLXh--4CJxppjz-0ZUxLCeYgIPns-JY4ghYPpFqQKggSHw-xKLgg8ERLrZ0uXnDh7VxL8nWdE8wZ2w-tk7PxK9Zi0fOWcpuWey_9fD2pR-t2aFR-udFIBF9rHCVlVwgO-g=s660" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiB8INuG9YILhlQvm6Z67b_rtRei_LJI-57o2Xlo69hVnPVwMA9-D9fUf-4JLXh--4CJxppjz-0ZUxLCeYgIPns-JY4ghYPpFqQKggSHw-xKLgg8ERLrZ0uXnDh7VxL8nWdE8wZ2w-tk7PxK9Zi0fOWcpuWey_9fD2pR-t2aFR-udFIBF9rHCVlVwgO-g=s320" width="242" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I’m pretty sure I know four
words that strike fear in most men. "<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">We
need to talk!"</b> From my experience, it immediately causes them to think
about heading outside to that “project” they’ve been meaning to do. They are
suddenly on high alert and very wary about what comes next!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A friend and I were discussing
men and their feelings the other day. We both have been married a long time and
we think we’ve come to know our spouses well. Feelings are not a top priority
with our mates, discussing them even less so. I have decided men’s feelings are
one of three things: hungry, horny or tired. Beyond these three feelings, they
are caught <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">off</b> guard and <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">on</b> guard to what comes next in the
discussion when we start it with those four words. I mean, we have never
started a discussion with “We need to talk. What would you like for dinner? We
need to talk. Let’s head to the bedroom. We need to talk. You look really
tired.” See? Those four little words alert them that something big and deep is
probably coming next! Warning! Warning!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">Now I know it is not fair to draw a sweeping generality about this. There
may be some very sensitive men out there who LOVE to discuss their feelings, I
just don’t know them! No judgement, just observation. I think it’s mainly
because men do not want to hash and rehash situations or problems. They are
programed to solve the problem, not dwell on it. They are raised to fix things,
not delve into how the problem makes them feel. They like to project confidence
and strength and this is also a reason we love them. However, women often don’t
want a solution, they want to dissect and study and probe the problem. This is
like speaking a foreign language to men. This is why we have girlfriends!!
Girlfriends speak the same language as us. They don’t mind a good dissection of
a situation. They let us wallow a bit and usually help us help ourselves to
find the solution. And even if we don’t find the solution, we usually feel
better afterwards just by having the discussion.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">None of this is meant to be a slight on our men. It is meant to help us
all realize that they mean well, they love us and really do want to help us
find the solution. Just don’t ask then how they feel about it! Remember, the
only answers are hungry, horny or tired!!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">How does that make you feel?!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></p><br /></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-79192559695306488412022-02-22T15:08:00.004-08:002022-02-22T15:08:54.133-08:00Bruises<div>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhLR4Vaj70SWvp0_bP7HJbGFQRLqOogz2wBPzj2_Ao1nJJgDSULhvczWw233fafV69TPYbm74pMUoQA5K14fYpvg8z-gK6NCrTu87x64v_UK4ErbgcAY9NT6lTpTFH9YM_US-qD7cbvqNO5SBM8GQvwHURH8b4F8sKbejzA4jyg6KMhqlXXhCcrygfIKw=s226" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="222" data-original-width="226" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhLR4Vaj70SWvp0_bP7HJbGFQRLqOogz2wBPzj2_Ao1nJJgDSULhvczWw233fafV69TPYbm74pMUoQA5K14fYpvg8z-gK6NCrTu87x64v_UK4ErbgcAY9NT6lTpTFH9YM_US-qD7cbvqNO5SBM8GQvwHURH8b4F8sKbejzA4jyg6KMhqlXXhCcrygfIKw" width="226" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">Train has a song called “Bruises” that says: </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; font-family: "Bahnschrift SemiBold",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">“These bruises make for better conversation</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Bahnschrift SemiBold",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">Loses the vibe that separates</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">It's good to let you in again</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">You're not alone in how you've been</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Everybody loses</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">We all got bruises</span></span><span style="background: white; color: #444444; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Listening to it
today (again) made me think about what defines us. We are all a product of our
experiences. This includes both good and bad, wins and losses. What makes some people live in the past,
blaming their parents, their old bosses, their old partners for their current
state of being? When do we say,
“Enough!” and own our own stuff? Yes, we’ve all got bruises. It’s part of
life. We have had experiences in the
past that may have left us sad, lonely or confused. We have also had
experiences that left us feeling joy, wonder and satisfied and, even for a
while, with the thought that all is right in the world.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;">How
do we keep the negative roar down to a minimum so we can experience the quiet
calm of peace? For me, I know the negative tapes run so much louder in my head
than the positive ones. When the ugly “I can’ts” or “I’m nots” creep into my
thoughts, I literally need to say to myself, “Stop.” It takes conscious effort
to replace these thoughts with more positive ones.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444;">I really like “I will have a good day today
because I am ready for a good day.” Hokey? Maybe, but words are powerful and
thoughts even more powerful. We attract what we think. It’s been proven over
and over by people much smarter than me. When we appreciate something, we are
willing the universe to please give us more! Recognizing when we fall back into
old habits and negative thoughts, we have the power to change the tape running
in our head and replace it with positive ones. Like any behavior we want to
change, it takes time and practice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: #444444; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> Hey,
we all got bruises. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="-webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-repeat: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px !important; border-width: 0px;" /></a></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-76912346893582696312022-02-14T11:12:00.001-08:002022-02-14T11:12:30.660-08:00Passion<div>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7D4Hh1MZE8BQ6_tCjg8VeUEyJuMkDOqdrGfQ1dgaEIJSt-MbEY8ZaxLnPz9M01DV0DUzbI1H2SKRXTZdWf-IV9t60x7CZeCThe3FT0-Gtdv3fcGJs_2BcitEsSWNAd9o0IUEUrA53JdFBcnTNJbxcA6ix6FYPpHG7P64Ipw6I6dTJMdyS78DGqr0o1Q=s3994" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1407" data-original-width="3994" height="113" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7D4Hh1MZE8BQ6_tCjg8VeUEyJuMkDOqdrGfQ1dgaEIJSt-MbEY8ZaxLnPz9M01DV0DUzbI1H2SKRXTZdWf-IV9t60x7CZeCThe3FT0-Gtdv3fcGJs_2BcitEsSWNAd9o0IUEUrA53JdFBcnTNJbxcA6ix6FYPpHG7P64Ipw6I6dTJMdyS78DGqr0o1Q=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> You may think this is a post
about running, but it is not. It’s a post about passion. Recently, I was
sidelined from running for four weeks. After getting back to it this last week,
I realized it is more than about fitness and health for me. It is a passion I
have discovered in myself very late in life. I never ran at all until I was 55
years old. Many people claim they would only run if someone were chasing them! They
think it sounds like a terrible kind of torture. It’s not for everyone. For me,
it is a time of reflection, prayer and peace. I have time to thank God for my
blessings and beseech Him for many other things. I pray for the health of my family
and friends. I pray that my grandkids make good decisions in their teen years.
I pray for a softer heart and a kinder voice for myself. The list goes on and
on. I am in the outdoors (I hate my
treadmill) smelling the air, seeing what’s going on in my neighborhood and
staying alert so I don’t get hit by a car! Some days it is harder to get out
the door than others, but I find on those days, the feeling at the end of the
run is even more euphoric. Running has helped me lose weight, enhanced my
mental health and proved to myself that I can do so much more than I think I
can. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> I am here to challenge you to
figure out what’s YOUR passion. Passion, by definition, is described as a
powerful or compelling emotion or feeling. Your passion could be crafting,
volunteering, travel adventures, reading, knitting, bird watching and more. If
you are stumped about what your passion might be, ask yourself these questions.
In the last week, what gave me joy? What made me smile? What did I do and
thought, “I wish I had more time to do this." Your passion is just that, yours!
It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks (crazy old lady runner!), it matters
what YOU think. I’m very sure passion comes from the heart and not the head. It
requires a bit of curiosity and being a little brave to try something you hadn’t
considered before now. I remember over a decade ago, asking myself, “Could I
run a 5K?” I’m honestly not even sure where that notion came from, but I’m glad
I allowed myself to step outside the box and find out. It has brought me so
much joy over the years. I have set goals and achieved them. I have been to
nine different states for a run and seen unforgettable sunrises. I have witnessed
people helping other people over 13.1 miles that made me continue to have faith
in the goodness of the human spirit. It’s given me a boatload of cool medals as
proof of my accomplishments. All this because I decided to try something new!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> So, what’s your passion? Give
yourself permission to be curious and seek the answer. Many people ask, “What’s
my purpose? Is this all there is to life? Can there be more?” Finding your
passion leads to finding the answers. Finding the answers leads to joy and
contentment. Sounds good to me!<o:p></o:p></p><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="-webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-repeat: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px !important; border-width: 0px;" /></a></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-20733536294927517272022-02-07T15:52:00.000-08:002022-02-07T15:52:54.010-08:00Define "Gift"<div>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrOuGZxuPFfb8nmCw3sNpmOIYLJEACm5--XpMA5s2kwaajl_1VxKMq8_9q4Dw88QMFEbHW21m9714b2HpqIkNAAaJBju8rh9sasTsXxCIs4j6uWtcpeRuyJmdy10Ad_Zz6ks40oKgN3j-GQwO4WB58lR0OGwMZNIvSbORxeQ4aN2QWJHFBPvnsKreHtQ=s2592" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1340" data-original-width="2592" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrOuGZxuPFfb8nmCw3sNpmOIYLJEACm5--XpMA5s2kwaajl_1VxKMq8_9q4Dw88QMFEbHW21m9714b2HpqIkNAAaJBju8rh9sasTsXxCIs4j6uWtcpeRuyJmdy10Ad_Zz6ks40oKgN3j-GQwO4WB58lR0OGwMZNIvSbORxeQ4aN2QWJHFBPvnsKreHtQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> We have never been big Valentine’s
Day people. It seems like such a Hallmark, commercial manufactured event. Do we
really need a day to remind us that we are supposed to love and cherish our “person”?
Isn’t that something we should be doing most days?<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> What has happened over the
years, is the redefinition of a Valentine’s Day gift. Flowers (overpriced this
time of year), candy (we really don’t need the sugar), dinner out (too crowded
to even be fun). So, it seems our gifts the last decade or so has been on the
more practical side. Isn’t that what long married couples do? “Honey, we really
need new patio furniture. Let’s get it for each other for Valentine’s Day.” “Hey,
did you see Costco has a really cool air fryer on sale this month? Maybe it’s
time we get one. It can be our Valentine’s Day gift to each other.” “I ordered new
nonslip socks from Amazon so my freezing feet won’t bother you in bed. Let’s
call them my Valentine’s Day gift!” I think you get the idea.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> This year, it seems my Valentine’s
Day gift is in the form of more improvements to my tortoise habitat. My kind
husband, who shows his love by acts of service, added stucco and painted the
wall that is around the perimeter. Now this may seem like a lousy, unromantic
gift to you, but to me, it’s a treat. He has been VERY busy with work of late
and things around our house have taken a back seat. You know, the shoemaker’s
children go barefoot as they say! Overworked and tired and yet he found time to
do this, not necessarily because he wanted to, but because he thought it would
please me. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> So, if love is hearts, flowers,
candy and sappy cards, I am not loved. If love is goodness, caring, and doing
things for me, I am loved beyond measure! <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Happy wife…happy life.<o:p></o:p></p></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img height="40" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="-webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-repeat: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px !important; border-width: 0px;" width="126" /></a></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-27520387605912800572022-02-05T18:00:00.001-08:002022-02-05T18:00:38.330-08:00Words<div>
</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRCGpvJRoLr1cSQVhg8BEnRuJNIixSZSLb1QcrMNZeZ21FlzGesIG1dBhPj4Eb5vH7HcTLFJb6_P5JC6-MbKbdMxjFyKI_jyh_d-7T6OGEWJsIUBekPj2MhPV3BV9MREH47lMIVXWMU2InXRPRDk8_IjuCAMpiFLz1VB5ThVqJ_t1WZZTt-vbwY_SfzQ=s1600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="394" data-original-width="1600" height="79" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRCGpvJRoLr1cSQVhg8BEnRuJNIixSZSLb1QcrMNZeZ21FlzGesIG1dBhPj4Eb5vH7HcTLFJb6_P5JC6-MbKbdMxjFyKI_jyh_d-7T6OGEWJsIUBekPj2MhPV3BV9MREH47lMIVXWMU2InXRPRDk8_IjuCAMpiFLz1VB5ThVqJ_t1WZZTt-vbwY_SfzQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> I was relaxing today, mindlessly
watching a series on Netflix and I heard someone say the best line. “I’m going
now, but I’m leaving my prayers with you.” It just hit me what a wonderful
sentiment that is. What a kind and sensitive
thing to say to someone! Can you imagine the goodness we could spread in this
world if we all “left our prayers” with the people we encounter each day? It’s
so much better than just saying goodbye. Thoughts matter and words matter even
more. I have never been a fan of movie stars, but I have always had a deep respect
for the people who write the words they say. The words are where the magic
happens.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> Over the years, I have often
said, “I appreciate it.” Lately, I have changed that to, “I appreciate <b>you</b>.” I have seen people’s faces light
up when I say it. I have spoken my kindness directly at them. I can tell it
matters. By changing that one word, I let people know that I specifically
notice and care about them. I make it personal. I make it sincere. I make it
about them. We all love when something is about us. I am reminded, once again,
that making very small changes in our world can really have an impact, both on
the giver and the receiver. It’s almost too easy. Why do we make it so hard?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"> I’m going now, but I leave my
prayers with you.<o:p></o:p></p><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="-webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-repeat: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px !important; border-width: 0px;" /></a></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-8215357418181126902022-01-31T18:28:00.000-08:002022-01-31T18:28:25.370-08:00Small Things<div>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieyCvF_rv0914UNNuIedNZvLXBx1d_Y4lq0SiyiiHZEjG-X7mCzgvh36PV7MTy9PLv62KDAMUDxEuxZvPPuowKJechSci9MuhfX3n2HZnSLSScHDNCq4jbUAW6XH8YIMfyrPG_Ix5GplQwmB-kOcegkiDC3uTiGuVrY2_FXk7idGKhbYffEXhOvI8RGg=s1800" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEieyCvF_rv0914UNNuIedNZvLXBx1d_Y4lq0SiyiiHZEjG-X7mCzgvh36PV7MTy9PLv62KDAMUDxEuxZvPPuowKJechSci9MuhfX3n2HZnSLSScHDNCq4jbUAW6XH8YIMfyrPG_Ix5GplQwmB-kOcegkiDC3uTiGuVrY2_FXk7idGKhbYffEXhOvI8RGg=s320" width="213" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"> This
world has been nothing short of tumultuous these past two years. It has divided
families, ended friendships and left our country battered and bruised. At
times, I hardly recognize the good old US of A. All this has left me, as well
as many of you, feeling uneasy and anxious. I am a certified control freak and
this makes me realize how little control I have of many things.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> When
whatever I am feeling or doing seems too big, too scary, just too much, I have
figured out a way to regain some of my calm. I do simple, ordinary things. I
unload the dishwasher. I give the dog a bath. I straighten one drawer. Somehow
these simple acts, that I can control, calms me and makes me feel a little less
out of control and scattered. There is a lot to be said for small tasks like
these. No, they don’t rid us of Covid or immediately return the world that once
was, but they can make a small corner of my little world seem more tolerable.
It makes me feel like I am still moving forward in this quest to find my peace
and harmony. It reminds me that I can put one foot in front of the other and
keep moving forward. I can see small results from my efforts and that pleases
me. Eventually, a lot of small results turns into big results. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> And if
all else fails, there’s always a glass of wine…even better if it’s shared with
a friend!<o:p></o:p></p><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="-webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-repeat: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px !important; border-width: 0px;" /></a></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-10434421571054491552022-01-29T12:34:00.000-08:002022-01-29T12:34:32.797-08:00Grow Old with Me<div>
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPUsYDTsDMJ7NCTGtN5gwt-CkHpx5_-kbWsaT29Cif0uyCbFWhIyXLASX12TAriw7tQTSQn5qgN5NfZ4H76avkLLDPVNgBGmb5axk4QCY7y-VHSbA3oAQ6XOwAdCbmRKNKtLtfO3BXLydiWfEVLPU9EDU3FHeueV-TxUeClAu7slibZzldIYBHtHgR7g=s1936" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1936" data-original-width="1936" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPUsYDTsDMJ7NCTGtN5gwt-CkHpx5_-kbWsaT29Cif0uyCbFWhIyXLASX12TAriw7tQTSQn5qgN5NfZ4H76avkLLDPVNgBGmb5axk4QCY7y-VHSbA3oAQ6XOwAdCbmRKNKtLtfO3BXLydiWfEVLPU9EDU3FHeueV-TxUeClAu7slibZzldIYBHtHgR7g=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div>I've been seeing lots on social media about posting a side-by-side photo of your prom and wedding photos. The picture on the left is 50 years ago this year! The wedding photo on the right is three years later. Back then, they let children get married!! What were we thinking? We thought we knew everything and as time went on, we realized, we knew almost nothing! Here's the thing about being together since a young age. You either grow up together or you grow apart. When you get married and say "I do" that is the easy part. It's a day all about you with food and friends and dancing and presents. The hard part is saying "I do" when you need a new roof, one of the kids is throwing up all night, when money is tight, when you are just tired of the same old routine. Those are the "I dos" that really matter. It's the time when one stops trying and the other one tries for both of you for a while and then you look up and realize, you are both trying again. It's not always fun, definitely not always easy, but after growing up together, we look forward to growing old together!</div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="-webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-repeat: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px !important; border-width: 0px;" /></a></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-87367412194821115932022-01-26T14:03:00.008-08:002022-01-26T14:10:31.839-08:00I am Still Learning<div>
</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbhHU22AH-fpvrroWeUBqJVBvvgqnDijtogapjyz9TnY3EH24Y5VL8U3jGkueKVlLAZCktxf4anyB0BR2bVH_a59v3GFBfbBGdvhBHfrjdPoIRFKJvEkXMoSZALQzRvwJ1NTu_c-5yDQlZeRbGlsPr2oXIWhdazNGHMdBHHV9VHpHsDgWgdoc0lrDSZw=s1600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbhHU22AH-fpvrroWeUBqJVBvvgqnDijtogapjyz9TnY3EH24Y5VL8U3jGkueKVlLAZCktxf4anyB0BR2bVH_a59v3GFBfbBGdvhBHfrjdPoIRFKJvEkXMoSZALQzRvwJ1NTu_c-5yDQlZeRbGlsPr2oXIWhdazNGHMdBHHV9VHpHsDgWgdoc0lrDSZw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: verdana; text-indent: 0.5in;">Recently, I found myself in very unfamiliar territory. I was on the
receiving end of people’s kind gestures and good wishes. I am usually the GIVER. I send the cards. I
drop off food. I give. I am not a good receiver. It makes me uncomfortable,
actually. Through these last few weeks, I learned a powerful lesson. You may think
the lesson is one of gratitude, which, of course, I AM grateful, but it goes
beyond that to a lesson I’d like to share with others.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">When something happens to a friend, such as a death in the family, an
illness or any other stressful situation, <b>DO
NOT</b> say, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” “Do you need anything?”
Let me tell you for certain, most people will not ask for anything. They will
say they are fine. They will say they don’t need anything. The correct
response, in my opinion, is <b>JUST DO
SOMETHING</b>!!! Don’t wait to be asked because you may wait a long time,
perhaps forever. The person, especially someone who is used to being the giver
and doer, will probably NEVER ask for help. They may not even know they need
help, but when the help arrives, unannounced, they will be eternally grateful.
Help takes on many forms. It can be a meal prepared or store bought to be used
when the recipient feels like it. It may be flowers, a card with a heartfelt
message inside, a cozy blanket to wrap up in, indulgent snacks and trashy
magazines or occasional texts or calls to touch base. What you do is not nearly
as important as doing something! Again, don’t wait to be asked or told, <b>JUST DO SOMETHING</b>!! I can guarantee it
will be appreciated and you will be a blessing in their life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I said to my daughter last week, “How will I ever repay all these people?”
She replied, “Mom, you don’t repay them. You pay it forward. You do something
nice for someone else who needs it.” Ahhh, I have raised a wise daughter! <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Even at my ripe old age, I am still learning! Thank goodness</span>!<o:p></o:p></p></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="-webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-repeat: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px !important; border-width: 0px;" /></a></div>Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-36777897369078648382020-03-16T11:14:00.000-07:002020-03-16T11:14:31.145-07:00Corona Depression<div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VPKPGbHeWPs/Xm_BSe4WZ6I/AAAAAAAADaE/kS4xuYM9rDMqYbq-8RFJBm6ZmMlY0AIvgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VPKPGbHeWPs/Xm_BSe4WZ6I/AAAAAAAADaE/kS4xuYM9rDMqYbq-8RFJBm6ZmMlY0AIvgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Image.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I am an event planner and a small business
owner. Last Friday, March 13, 2020 at 9:00am I had five events on the books for
the month of March alone. By 5:00pm that same day, four events had postponed
and one cancelled completely. I sat at the table in stunned silence. Yes, I
know this coronavirus is bigger than just me, but I am a small business owner. I
get paid only when I work and provide a service. I don’t get a salary every
other Friday like so many. I don’t have the security of a daily/weekly job. I
make my own work. I promote myself. I am always letting people know what I do
and offering my services. I am shameless in my self-promotion, and after all
these years, it has served me well. It has brought me tons of business and
referrals. I am not lazy. I love to work. I love what I do. But this is bigger
than anyone can imagine. This will cause many small businesses to exist no
more. Watch the FOR LEASE shoot up in your neighborhood strip malls in the next
few months. You may feel sad and even annoyed that your local nail salon, independent
restaurant, gym, etc. is no longer there. You may have to drive further to
replace these services. You may have to get used to someone new providing these
services. What I hope you also remember is that these people are most likely
sitting in a chair at their house, wondering how they will pay their bills, pay
their rent, take care of their family.</span><br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I explained the trickle down effect of
economics to my granddaughter yesterday. Less work for me means I second guess
every purchase. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does my dog really need
a new dog bed right now? Holding off on this small purchase means, the people
who make the dog bed don’t get the order. The people who package the order have
less work. The people who drive the shipment trucks to deliver the dog bed have
less work. Each person affected by the slowdown asks themselves the same
question before making a purchase, “Do I really need this?” So me not buying
one simple dog bed, affects our economy exponentially. What is the prudent
thing to do in these uncertain times? Spend or not? I am fortunate enough to
have been in business so long, I have experienced many ups and downs and I am a
good saver. I have financial breathing room, but who wants to dip into that
nest egg? I also feel down because I love creating events. I get to make people
happy. What good fortune, beyond money, that is! I wonder when the next time I
will be able to do what I love. My crystal ball is broken and I don’t have a
clue! My usual go-go-go has been replaced with stop-stop-stop. In the coming
weeks and months, the landscape of our society will have vastly changed, some
for the good and some for the bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
remains to be seen. One thing I know, we are all in this together. Like the
sign says, “Closed but Still Awesome!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">PS. I bought the dog bed!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" style="font-size: medium;" target="_blank"><img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="border-width: 0px;" /></a></span></div>
</div>
Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-12968138621373966542020-03-08T19:44:00.000-07:002020-03-08T19:45:32.897-07:00Piggy Bank<div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--KHSsOvvOvU/XmWs4JJOGrI/AAAAAAAADZw/NhMQH4a1kfohCtkL-4PY4uPlfNX2iZeCACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--KHSsOvvOvU/XmWs4JJOGrI/AAAAAAAADZw/NhMQH4a1kfohCtkL-4PY4uPlfNX2iZeCACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_2836.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Recently, I read that a marriage is
like a piggy bank. Every time we toss our mate a cross word, a harsh judgement,
a stony silence or an “I told you so!” we make a withdrawal. And, likewise,
each time we really pause and listen to them, we are thoughtful in some way,
big or small or we are generous with praise, we make a deposit. Just like our
actual bank account, if we only withdraw, eventually our account runs out of
money. As we all know, this is a bad spot in which to find ourselves. I must
admit, these past few months, I have been withdrawing money from my marriage
piggy bank over and over and over again. It’s so easy to withdraw and after all
these years, I justified that my marriage had become boring, He was boring. Is
this it for the next 20+ years? I’d ask myself. The answer did not comfort me
in any way. All my disappointment, anger and resentment was hurled across the
dinner table or from the passenger seat of the car as we drove somewhere. It
was ugly. I was ugly. Here’s the thing about my husband, he’s an eternal
depositor. He deposits acts of kindness to everyone in his life, all the time.
He takes care of all of us, whether it’s fixing something that doesn’t work,
dropping and picking up grandkids constantly, showing up at games and practices
to support his people unconditionally or asking if I need anything when he
leaves the house. He is a depositor who asks very little for himself. I am
ashamed to admit, I took his generous heart for granted. I almost crushed the
very last drop of blood from that heart until it was shriveled and black. After
reading the idea about the marriage piggy bank, I had an awakening. I had to
stop being one who only withdraws. I had to find the good in each day, in this
relationship, even if some days it was small. I had to start making deposits
again like the old days. He began to notice that I was making these deposits in
our relationship. A few days ago, he said to me, “I have loved you for 50
years. I’m not going to stop.” As I put these words to paper, I have tears in
my eyes. He is a depositor. He always has been and always will be, but even a
person whose first inclination is to see the good, do the good, be the good,
can get weary. I thank God I made changes in me before it was too late. This is
a terribly personal post about things that you may think should be left to the
two of us and not for others to know. I disagree. Maybe you are finding
yourself in a similar situation. Maybe you have been withdrawing way too much
from the marriage piggy bank. I’m here to tell you, it’s not too late to start
depositing, right here, right now. Truth is, the interest this piggy bank pays
is amazing and worth every effort!</span><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="border-width: 0px;" /></a><br />
<br /></div>
Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-56199186633034323322020-03-04T07:16:00.000-08:002020-03-04T07:17:23.650-08:00Kind Words<div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ROfD1VsqwqA/Xl_GAqjRDiI/AAAAAAAADZk/_jRhlUNyDbABt0Dt3C-3-x1sHX5PD3LuACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/2396292-whimsical-drawing-of-the-word-kind-isolated-on-white.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="1300" height="210" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ROfD1VsqwqA/Xl_GAqjRDiI/AAAAAAAADZk/_jRhlUNyDbABt0Dt3C-3-x1sHX5PD3LuACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/2396292-whimsical-drawing-of-the-word-kind-isolated-on-white.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some may not know this, but I work
part time in a coffee shop ~ <b>THE</b>
coffee shop known around the world! Lousy pay but excellent benefits and I get
to interact with so many people and often their stories are laid before me in
our short time together. One day, a mother and daughter came in and I noticed
that the daughter, probably high school age, had on a head scarf and was
clearly bald underneath. I assumed “chemo bald”. As I took their order, the young girl slowly
removed her scarf, all the while staring right at me. I continued to take their
order, not missing a beat, but as they walked away, I looked at the girl and
said, “By the way, you look beautiful. Your head has a perfect shape.” She
smiled sheepishly and giggled a little. Her mother said, “I have told her the
same thing since she was born, she has always had a perfectly shaped head.”
They went off to wait for their order to be called and I continued with my line
of customers. A few minutes later, I looked up to see the mother staring at me
and when our eyes met, she silently mouthed, “Thank you!” I smiled and nodded
ever so slightly. No need to thank me. I felt blessed to have this small
interaction with them. Both of them remained on my mind the rest of the day. I
was struck with the simple fact that a kind word to someone, even a stranger,
can make their entire day better. It cost me nothing, but the return is
priceless – for both of us!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What kind word will you offer someone today?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a></div>
Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-42097392462564876382020-03-02T12:36:00.001-08:002020-03-02T12:46:59.601-08:00Just $5!<div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V_Si8t4qRZo/Xl1tfnzVn2I/AAAAAAAADZY/7nmvtMpds7AHVQe2GPd7wm9pzqCfFJb0gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/%25245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="505" data-original-width="760" height="212" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V_Si8t4qRZo/Xl1tfnzVn2I/AAAAAAAADZY/7nmvtMpds7AHVQe2GPd7wm9pzqCfFJb0gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/%25245.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have been known to offer my opinion
or ideas on a variety of subjects. Sometimes these opinions are not solicited,
but many times they are. I am older, been around the block as they say, and
know a little bit about a lot of things. I have had many jobs in my lifetime. I
have been many places. I have a creative side that likes to make things.
Although I can’t draw or paint, I’m a force with a glue gun! I love telling
others about great restaurants, places and events that are memorable for a
number of reasons. I love to hunt for a bargain. I like to take the time to
share the good parts with people. I strike up conversations with strangers in
line, much to my best friend’s annoyance! I have been known to even offer these
strangers suggestions as well. I have often said, jokingly, that I would like
to be the “<b>$5 Answer Woman</b>”. Here’s how it would work. You come to me and
ask me a question, ask for a recommendation, ask for my ideas. I will give you
an answer, an idea, or my suggestion and you pay me $5! Doesn’t that sound
amazing? With today’s prices, I am probably selling myself short at five
dollars, but I want satisfied customers! I want returning customers that come
back for more answers! Much like ladies of a certain profession, payment must
be received before services are rendered! I will accept cash, check or Venmo! Maybe it's a little like Google or Siri, but how often do you ask them something and are not happy with their answer? This way, you get a real, live person! I
can see it now, at your service, the famous $5 Answer Woman!! How can I abbreviate
that on a personalized license plate!?!?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Got five bucks? What’s your question??</span></b></div>
<img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" /><br />
<br /></div>
Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-54338911489313145362020-02-28T15:27:00.001-08:002020-02-28T15:33:26.969-08:00Sunshine in the Mail<div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fF5OVzX7tVQ/XlmhlrR-kkI/AAAAAAAADZM/GsBVcRATK0clLoxcWt3EjxsiunXumTBGACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fF5OVzX7tVQ/XlmhlrR-kkI/AAAAAAAADZM/GsBVcRATK0clLoxcWt3EjxsiunXumTBGACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/download.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What does your mail consist of these
days? If it’s like mine, it consists mostly of advertisements (ugh) and bills
(double ugh). Nothing very exciting or uplifting, to say the least. I decided I
can’t change my own mail, but I can change other people’s. Now, whenever I see
an article in the newspaper or a magazine that reminds me of someone, I tear it
out, slap a little note on it that reads, “Saw this and thought of you.” and
pop both in the mail to them. The key is, I do it right away! Leaving it to do
later usually means never! Just think, when they open their mail box, there
among the bleak adult “stuff” is a tiny ray of sunshine. They open it to find
nothing very important and, yet, may make them feel they are important enough for someone
to take the time to send them this. What an easy, inexpensive way to make
someone’s day! I <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 16px;">know you might say, email is more immediate, but for me, not as satisfying. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Often, we feel we can’t do anything
big or great so we do nothing, but doing something, however small, may have big
returns for the recipient as well as for us. You never know what seeds you
plant, what the ripple effect of kindness can change, how we touch a heart that
needed it more than we could know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For the price of a stamp, will you send someone a little sunshine?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a></div>
Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-15929541826498753922020-02-26T11:26:00.001-08:002020-02-26T11:26:39.307-08:00Who's On Your Crew?<div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-340U7CZFzGI/XlbF_jewjiI/AAAAAAAADZA/btLIk5gbnBk0vgEBklKsW1cH8BoNvLSUwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/71b8758b8317ec097a992b0a43153631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1104" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-340U7CZFzGI/XlbF_jewjiI/AAAAAAAADZA/btLIk5gbnBk0vgEBklKsW1cH8BoNvLSUwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/71b8758b8317ec097a992b0a43153631.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When your life is smooth sailing,
anybody can ride along in your boat. It’s easy, fun and lighthearted.
Unfortunately, much of life cannot be described in these terms. More often than
not, we face challenges, worries and troubles that eat away at our attempt at
choosing joy. Instead of smooth sailing, we experience turbulent waters that
sometimes make us feel like our boat is about to capsize. Who hangs with us
during these times? I bet you can count these people on one hand, but count
them you should, because they are the ones that truly matter. I can steer the
boat by myself when the waters are calm. It’s when the storm threatens my
safety that I need a crew to help me navigate through it. That’s the time those
people I counted, really count!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Who’s on your crew?</span></b></div>
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px;" /></a></div>
Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-57509712309540792712020-02-24T08:49:00.000-08:002020-02-24T08:50:46.274-08:00Forgiveness<div>
</div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Forgiveness is a funny thing. We
often find ourselves in a situation where we just don’t want to forgive someone
for hurting or disappointing us. We reason that they don’t deserve our
forgiveness. They were wrong. They were mean. However, anger and resentment are
heavy stones to carry around each and every day. Forgiveness lightens that
weight almost instantly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One of the hardest people to forgive
is ourselves. We put lots of pressure on being better, smarter, kinder, skinnier
and so on, and when we fall short, we often cannot forgive ourselves. I was
talking with a woman last week and she told me, like many people, she started
the New Year with great intentions. She had been exercising and eating healthy
foods, but in the last few days, she, in her words, had “fallen off the wagon”.
I looked right at her and said, “Forgive yourself and move on. Start again and
keep going.” The look on her face can only be described as hopeful joy. She
thanked me for saying those words and said that was just what she would do.
Rather than dwelling on the failure of the past few days, she would forgive
herself and move forward. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I must say these words, not only to
others, but to myself as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Will you forgive yourself and move forward today?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/389/DE280634BF89412FB1FBF95BE29A67BF.png" style="border-width: 0px;" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-18768038327252762252020-02-22T18:24:00.000-08:002020-02-22T18:24:44.121-08:00Invisible<div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--vqS_TtrhW8/XlHh6xlL5xI/AAAAAAAADY0/pp7sor08dPgGrvHBVpmckuRV2-CihWP2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_5874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1022" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--vqS_TtrhW8/XlHh6xlL5xI/AAAAAAAADY0/pp7sor08dPgGrvHBVpmckuRV2-CihWP2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_5874.jpg" width="234" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I realized something a little startling the other day. Sixty
plus year old women are invisible. I am invisible. To whom you may ask? To
everyone is my reply. I am invisible to the people shopping in the grocery
store. I am invisible to the people in line at the bank. I am invisible to the
few friends that I have. I am invisible to my children. I am invisible to my
husband. No one sees an older woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s not in the fabric of our society today. I go about my business with
the efficiency I have always had. I get things done. I make a list. I shop for
food. I cook meals. I do laundry. I pay the bills on time. I grab a coffee. I
keep it all running smoothly, all the while being invisible. It’s just what
happens, I guess. I still think of myself as a witty, fun 30 year old. Then I
pass a mirror or see my reflection in a window and am startled that an older
woman is staring back at me. I hardly know her. She dresses mostly in black
these days, probably to hide her diminishing figure and her thickening middle.
When did that happen? Is that when I became invisible? I see a woman who seems
to add wrinkles to her face on a daily basis. When did that happen? Is that
when I became invisible? I see a woman who has more time on her hands and less
to do. When did that happen? Is that when I became invisible? I see that look
of polite indifference on people’s faces when I start to tell a story or offer
advice. When did that happen?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is that
when I became invisible? I am at the point in my life where I am buying more
sympathy cards than birthday cards. When did that happen? Is that when I became
invisible? It’s like I am a drawing on a piece of paper and someone has started
using the eraser at the bottom of my picture moving upward, and slowly but
surely, I have been disappearing for some time. The eraser will finally reach
my head and then my thoughts, dreams and memories will be erased along with me.
Maybe that is actually a good thing. Then I won’t remember that I am invisible.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Biggsuzi</span></div>
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Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-55337430230564243452016-11-26T13:20:00.002-08:002016-11-26T13:20:56.496-08:00The Theme is Imperfection<div>
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This time of year, I find photos in magazines of the "perfect Christmas tree". They are themed and beautiful and perfect. I am a person who LOVES a theme, but somehow this has never worked out on our Christmas tree. As much as part of me would love the color coordination and symmetry, I can't bring myself to create one that looks that way.<br />
As I open the drawers where I store our ornaments, I find ones that we purchased in our travels: Hawaii, Alaska, Banff, the East Coast, Brianhead, Mexico and more. I find the homemade ones from my children where they used too much glue or wrote in an unsteady six year old hand. I find the ones with photos of my kids and grandkids that captured a moment in time never to be relived. I find the most hideous and rudimentary craft ability ones that I can't bear to toss as they were made by my sweet aunt and godmother, long dead. And they each have a spot on the tree. <br />
My life is not perfect. Our tree is not perfect, but it is OUR tree. It speaks to who we are as a family. It remind us of fun moments we shared. It reminds us that love and people matter. It reminds us that who we are today, is partially because of where we went, who we met, and what we experienced together. <br />
Actually, now that I think about it, it <strong>is </strong>perfect!<br />
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Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-37379609665072567562016-11-05T15:36:00.001-07:002016-11-05T15:36:33.746-07:00Long Time...No Blog<div>
I borrowed the title of this blog from my BFF who also said it had been a long time since she blogged. Months without blogging...nothing to say or so much life, no time to say it?! </div>
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Lots of things going on, mostly good, but, dang, life is messy too! Thank goodness it was October and the month my best friend and I take a trip. This year was a BIG one as we went all the way to the east coast for my 40th half marathon. We stayed at the Ritz Carlton and enjoyed being pampered by the hotel staff. How do they remember our names?! Kind of creepy along with classy!!<br />
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I took this photo right before I started ,my half marathon. It was a unusually cold morning for Florida. And, while I froze waiting in the wind, I was thankful for the temperature about a half mile into the race. <br />
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The last two tenths of the race was on the sand. It was a brutal ending, but also very memorable. My BFF was waiting at the finish line and I can't tell you how much that meant to me. I usually am solo at my races, which is fine, but when you have somebody there for you, it is the exclamation point on the 13.1 miles.<br />
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We shopped the darling town of Amelia Island and also enjoyed some much needed down time relaxing on the beach by our hotel. Perfect weather every day, not too hot and not too cold.<br />
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At the airport in Jacksonville, FL, they have a huge group of rocking chairs. What a fun idea for weary travelers!<br />
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We even rented a car and drove two hours to Savannah, GA and explored the city. Lunch was in a beautiful spot right on the river. We both noticed how very friendly EVERYONE was. There must be something to the "southern hospitality" people talk about as we definitely experienced it.<br />
We spent five days laughing and talking and exploring and eating and shopping. I've said it before and I'll say it again ~ we travel well together! Lucky us!!<br />
We are already talking about where we will go in 2017! <br />
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Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-89575688917881395982016-08-25T12:46:00.000-07:002016-08-25T12:46:23.972-07:00A Shi**y Blog<div>
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This is MY neighborhood. This is OUR neighborhood.<br />
Yes, these are photos of dog poop!<br />
I walk my dog two or three times a day, every day! I live in an upscale neighborhood with houses that cost a fair amount of money. I don't say this to brag, I say it to let you know how appalled I am that people do not pick up their dog's poop when they are walking them. I simply cannot understand what kind of person does this ~ thoughtless? dirty? selfish? Maybe they are perfectly lovely people in every other aspect of their life except this. Hmmm, I somehow doubt this! When my grandkids go along on the walks, I always point out the poop. I tell them that the definition of being a good citizen is doing the right thing...even when no one is looking!<br />
This is MY neighborhood. This is OUR neighborhood.<br />
I have a small dog which means her poops are small. I <em>still</em> pick them up on every walk! I buy these great bags at the dollar store (see photo). They are actually in the baby section and are scented with powder! All this for $1 and you get 75 of them!! What a deal! You don't even have to purchase poop bags. You can recycle the plastic bags you get from the grocery store and use them. For a while, someone was actually bagging up their dog's poop and then <em>leaving it on the sidewalk, IN THE BAG!! </em>This means they bent down, scooped it up but didn't take it with them. I know it was the same person because it was always the same blue bags. Again I ask, who does this??<br />
This is MY neighborhood. This is OUR neighborhood.<br />
One house I walk by just redid their landscape down the side. I am sure he spent a lot of money to have it done. It is now, riddled with dog poop throughout the bark!! I will keep asking, who does this??<br />
Yes, there are bigger problems in the world today than dog poop riddled streets and yet maybe this speaks to an ever growing attitude of, "It's not my problem." "Let somebody else take care of things." "If I don't get caught, it doesn't count." "Who cares?" The definition of conscience is:<br />
<strong> "</strong><span><strong>an inner feeling or voice viewed as acting as a guide to the rightness or wrongness of one's behavior"</strong> </span><br />
<span>Have we stopped listening to that inner feeling or voice? Right and wrong still exist and they make the world a more livable, civilized place. I don't always do right, none of us do, but I'd like to believe that I do what's right way more often than what's wrong. If you do right more often than wrong, it becomes your "go to", default behavior. That's how it's supposed to be. That is a good citizen.</span><br />
<span>I will keep picking up my dog's poop. I hope you will do the same.</span><br />
<span>This is MY neighborhood. This is OUR neighborhood.</span><br />
<span>Respect it!</span><br />
<span><span style="font-size: large;">Biggsuzi</span></span><br />
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Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-91088256253278816342016-08-22T07:00:00.000-07:002016-08-22T09:40:52.510-07:00What a Week!<div>
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Looking back at last week, all I have to say is "Whew!" I think we are jamming the last few days before school starts with as many adventures as we can. Monday, I took the trio to San Juan Capistrano via the Amtrak. It only takes 30 minutes, but what a fun ride.<br />
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After lunch at Ruby's, we went to the petting zoo and I could barely get them out of there after almost 2 hours! They were calm and relaxed. There were no electronics in sight. They were full of smiles and sweetness. It made my heart happy. <br />
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Love, love, love this photo of all four of us by the train tracks before we departed for home. A good time had by all.<br />
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Thursday, after Jack had a birthday party (no photos available ~ I guess keeping up with 15 ten year old boys kept us too busy!), the girls and I went to see Broadway in the Park's production of Beauty and the Beast. What amazing talent and singing voices the actors had. They were enthralled throughout the entire play. They are growing up and can appreciate things like this.<br />
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Friday, Maddy had girlfriends over for an end of summer pool party. As you can see, they were a lively bunch of cuties. These girls will probably remain friends throughout middle and high school. Hosting them and seeing them all laughing together was as much fun for me as it was for them.<br />
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Jack has been asking and asking to run a 5K race with me. We finished out the weekend with the Tiki Beach 5K in Huntington Beach. He shot out right from the start and left me in the dust! I kept plodding along and, eventually, at about the 2.5 mile mark, I caught up to him. We finished the race side by side and I felt nothing but pride for him. Yes, he is an athlete, but running, any distance, is a challenge. He admitted to me later that it was harder than he thought it was going to be. Then he asked me when we can do another one!!<br />
Looking back over the week, it may seem pretty bland to some. I didn't get on an airplane. I didn't go on a cruise. In fact, I never left Orange County. The common thread in all the adventures is that I spent each and every one of them with my grandchildren. We laughed a lot together. We made a lot of memories together. I won't forget these adventures and I hope they won't either.<br />
They make my life so very full and my heart so very happy.<br />
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Biggsuzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08582675555455026649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4054599183554129651.post-66926867484509645642016-08-15T07:37:00.001-07:002016-08-15T07:37:24.019-07:00What a Ride!<div>
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Our wedding photos are fading, but our love is not. OK, that was so corny, I think I threw up a little in my mouth! Look, I have very realistic thoughts about marriage, especially after being married for 41 years! Some years are great and some years are not. Sometimes you are soul mates and sometimes it feels like cell mates. We make each other smile and we make each other growl. Being married is hard work and I think people forget that fact. "I don't want to do this any more." "It's not fun any more." You hear this all the time. Heck, we've <em>said</em> this from time to time in the past 41 years! And, yet, here we are, still riding side by side in the car together, sometimes in stony silence and sometimes laughing the whole way. That I talked him into recreating this wedding photo just shows what a good man he is. <br />
Mark, on our anniversary, I want you to know how much I have enjoyed annoying you all this time and how excited I am to keep doing it in the future! <br />
Yea, that's love!!!<br />
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