So Excited - It's Giving Day!!!

I am so excited that today is finally here that I woke up at 4:00 a.m. and have not been able to go back to sleep.  (Well, actually it would have been 5:00 a.m., but daylight sayings time ended last night, so it is earlier than a sane person would ever wake up.)

We have worked and planned for this day for weeks now, and we are looking forward to having some fun today.  It is Giving Day !

As those of you who regularly stop by here know, we moved about three weeks ago.

Younger, stronger backs unloading our stuff.

The home we had occupied for the past twenty years had about the same square footage as our new place, but it was divided into more rooms.  We had a formal living room (although ours was always pretty casual), a family room (where Holly, the resident Lhasa Apso was allowed on the furniture) and a sun room (where the LOC*, and Holly, and I would loll about on rainy days as we listened to the rain drops beat on the roof. (*Lovable Old Coot)

Now we do not have a family room or a sun room, we just have one big living room and all the stuff that was in those other two rooms needed a new home.  So we are giving it away!

The LOC said we could have a yard sale.  Yes, and after lots of work in tagging and hauling things out to the yard and then hauling off everything that did not sell, we would have a little bit of cash to show for our efforts.  Some people enjoy that kind of thing.  I do not.

I agree with the guy who once said, "If you go to enough yard sales, eventually you wind up with enough stuff to have one of your own."  :)  Don't get me wrong; I have nothing against yard sales.  I just do not have the time, energy or interest in hosting one of my own.  I'd rather give stuff away to someone who needs it.  And so would the LOC once he got into the swing of it.  He gave the people moving in across the street from our former home, a refrigerator, the big gas barbecue, his roll top desk, and other items we decided not to take to the new place.  They were a young family, who did not have much except for three young children plus a brand new baby, and they were thrilled to get those things.  Win,win.

So today, a couple of extended family members who recently lost pretty much everything they had and are now starting over, are arriving with a U-Haul to pick up our contributions to their new place.

Many years ago, my family lost everything we owned overnight.  It is a long story, and we will not recount it here, but we were suddenly left without (as I used to say) a chair to sit on, a bed to sleep in, or dish to eat from.  It was traumatic to say the least.

Many kind people gave us things to help us recover.  And some were generous beyond anything I could have imagined.  But I recall opening one donated box, and finding old clothes too worn to be worn, and even one sock  - not a pair, mind you, but one sock; and it had a hole in the toe!  I could not make this stuff up if I tried.

So I have always tried to be sure that when I give anything away, it is something that I would enjoy receiving.  If it is worn out, I recycle it or send it to the dump.  But I do not give it to another person.  To do so, for me, is disrespectful.

But today - oh, joy!  We are on a lollapalooza, bonanza of a give-away, and I can hardly contain myself.  We are giving away two wicker chairs, four small occasional tables, two lamps and a rocker/recliner.  Towels, sheets, bathroom accessories (we used to have three bathrooms and now we have two, so right there you have an extra set of throw rugs, soap dishes, towels, etc.)  Wall pictures, knick knacks, dishes, bedding, and a double bed.

Now my daughter, that would be Denise over at The Quiet Quill, will be thrilled to learn that we are replacing the double bed in our new, larger guest bedroom with a new queen sized bed.  Yea!!  She and her spouse have scrunched up for years, once or twice a year,  in that dinky little double bed.  No more!  :)

And the recipient of the double bed (and it is a good quality bed) has been sleeping on an air mattress on the floor for months now, so she is really excited, too!

An extra rocking chair, a candle holder, a floor fan (we now have two ceiling fans) ... and on and on it goes.  We gained an extra washer and dryer with our new house.  We already had new ones, so thus, we have this set which is less than five years old - good quality front loaders - to give away.  Isn't that just too much fun?

The LOC can hardly wait, as he will be able to really begin to sort out his new garage, once this stuff is hauled out of there. 

We have been blessed.  We know this.  And we are so happy to be able to share what we have with others.  Not just our stuff, but our hope and our joy in doing so.

So smile along with us today - it is Giving Day!  And we are excited.  Hope your day allows you to share something good with someone else.  Until next time ... your excited friend, Marsha

Nose Mitten Anyone?

It is nearly that time of year again.  The outdoor thermometer read 48 degrees a little while ago, and around here that is winter weather.  Forget fall.  You may recall that I posted not long ago that our area just skipped autumn this year and we went straight from summer to winter.


We have had rain, wind, sleet and epic hail already, and that was in July!  (Just kidding, but it was in early October.)

So summer is kaput.  Dead, done, and gone.  And this Saturday night we face another seasonal loss - daylight savings time ends.  :(

So now we enter that truly SAD time of the year.  No, not despondency, but Seasonal Affective Disorder.  You know, where you "get the glums" because your body does not get enough sunlight.  My mom experienced that, but probably one reason was because in the winter, she was always cold.  Cold hands, cold feet and a cold nose.


I inherited the cold nose.  Right now I must stop typing every few moments to hold my nose between my warm fingers just long enough to restore circulation.  Yes, we paid the utility bill, and we could turn up the heat.


But here at my son's home, where I am staying to help him while he recovers from a rough surgery, he likes it cool.  He has some medical issues that make this necessary for him.  Okay.

But "up the hill" (a few miles from my son's house, where we recently moved to the Sierra foothills) our house isn't any warmer. And why is that?  Because the *LOC likes it chillier than any normal human being should enjoy.  You could hang meat in our living room.  (I have considered hanging the LOC there, but why mar the vaulted, open beam ceilings with a big old nasty hook?)
(*Lovable Old Coot)

One end of our new living before the furniture arrived.

And so .... it is once again nose mitten time for moi.  They aren't expensive.  The one pictured above retails for about six dollars.  But it is hard to accessorize appropriately, when you are forced to work around a nose mitten.  My winter wardrobe resembles a mummy milieu...lots of layering and wrapping going on.

Of course, one can always resort to wearing a ski mask.  But then you are apt to be mistaken for someone who has nefarious plans involving convenience stores and lines like "Just hand over the cash."  No, ski masks are not a solution.

Oh, I just heard the call from the back bedroom.  "Mommmm, could you turn the heat down, please?"  Well, sure, son, right after I don my nose mitten.
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It is a problem.  Oh, well, there are worse problems to have.  Better to have a cold nose than a cold heart.  A cold nose can be warmed up in a jiffy.  (Keeping it that way is another story...just saying.)

But a cold heart... not good.  Those can last for years, and create great pain not only for the "owner" of the cold heart; but for anyone unfortunate enough to be in their vicinity.

Hope you are warm and cozy this evening.  If not, for goodness sakes borrow a nose mitten.  But guard against that "cold hearted condition", 'cause that one is serious.

Until next time .... your nose-mitten-wearing fashion plate - Marsha

The Dog's On A Diet

Holly, the resident Lhasa Apso, went to the vet this week.  She has had the same vet since she was born, twelve years ago last month.  Suddenly, because we have recently moved, enter a new dog doctor and the poor pooch is wrecked. The new doctor is a bit blunt - or to put it more clearly - she said Holly is too fat.  Period.  Not chubby, not chunky, just
 plain old  f-a-t.

This is just pitiful, because it obviously is not the dog's fault.  She isn't tall enough to reach the cupboard where her food is kept.  And it cannot be mine, as I am not the one who feeds her; not to mention that I have been largely absent for the past several months.  That only leaves one other potential culprit:  the *LOC.  Oh, dear, this is does not bode well for either him or Holly.  (*Lovable Old Coot)

He came home from the trip to the vet looking mildly non-plussed.  He took her in for an allergy shot, but he came home carrying a little measuring cup the vet had thoughtfully provided.  She suggested that he measure Holly's food; that is measure the amount he would normally give her, then cut that in half.

In telling me this sad tale, the LOC says woefully, "Well, we don't want her to starve, do we?"

I try not to smile and decline to point out that this seems highly unlikely, since she is carrying enough extra cargo on her little frame that it could see her through a six-month stint on the frozen tundra.  She could bunk with polar bears and not have to borrow from their food supply.

Okay, so now the dog is on a diet.  I sympathize with her.  I have personally tried a few of those voluntary food deprivation experiments from time to time and it was no fun.  Some worked fairly well, but most made no appreciable difference; unless you counted the difference in my daily mood as I fought the calorie curmudgeons.

The LOC and I try not to eat in front of Holly right now.  If we do, she sits up and begs quietly and politely (although she has a hard time balancing her rotund little body on her bottom).  She reminds me of a Weeble-Wobble.  Remember those?

If the expression in her eyes could be verbalized, I suspect it would be saying something like, "Please, people, how much harm could just one french fry do?"

I don't know how much longer we are going to be able to hold out on her.   And it has only been two days!  She may be pitiful, but we are the pathetic ones.

Wish Holly luck; because with the two of us taking care of her, she is going to need it.  I'm just saying ...
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Hope any diets you are managing are going better than Holly's.  Until next time ...Marsha

Where Did I Put It ??

As I trotted down the hallway yesterday, I suddenly smiled to myself for two very good reasons.  First, I smiled because I was going along a hallway (level, ahhh bliss) rather than down a set of stairs; because that would most certainly necessitate going back up that same set of stairs at some point. 

Did I mentioned that I hate stairs?  Or rather, while I am relatively okay with them, my knees hate them? Our former house was two-story but our new home is all on one level.  Common sense reigns!

And I was smiling because I actually knew where something I needed was.  The little plastic bags were in the second drawer down near the dishwasher in the kitchen.  Hooray!

When you have just moved in and nothing is quite where you thought it would be, the simple fact of knowing where something/anything is can be satisfying.

But I would be kidding you if I allowed you to think this little scenario was happening regularly.  The fact is that we have spent the past two weeks digging through boxes, rooting through plastic bins, and scrounging through bags and baskets trying to sort out our stuff.

And we have a lot of stuff!

My grandmother's quilt?  Not quite sure where it is.
Yesterday's mail?  Did we put that in the glove box in the car?

While we are making progress in sorting through things, we still don't know where many things are.  We know they are here somewhere, but just where is anyone's guess.
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Fortunately, there is something a great deal more important that I do know exactly where I have placed it.  I know where my confidence for the future, both in this life and the next has been "put".

"...I know whom I have believed and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day."  II Timothy 1:12

Hope your confidence is well placed this evening.  Until next time ... Marsha

The Best and The Worst of Me ??

I just returned home from Sunday morning church services and I am still pondering one of those "ah ha" moments that we have from time to time, when church is not just routine but relevant in our lives.

The pastor led a prayer in which the following phrase was included:

"Lord, you who knows the best and the worst in each of us..."

Immediately, as my head was bowed and my eyes were closed, an incident came to mind in vivid detail - and it was, to my thinking at least, "the worst of me."  I did not break any of man's laws, but I violated God's law and in my mind it represents the nadir of my life. 

I cringe any time the incident comes to mind, and then immediately remind myself that God forgave me long ago, and He does not even remember it anymore, according to Isaiah 43:25.
This unwelcome recollection did not surprise me, as it has come to mind unbidden from time to time, over the many years since it occurred.  It is a clear reminder that Satan is truly the "accuser of the brethren."

What did surprise me was what did not come to mind regarding the other part of the prayer, "the best of me".  Nothing came to mind.  I could not think of a single thing that represents the best of who I am.

How is it that we can so quickly recall the worst thing that ever happened to us, or the worst behavior we ever engaged in, or the worst thing we ever said to another human being, but cannot recall a single thing that would represent the best of who we are?

This is not humility.  Jesus was humble and yet did not hesitate to tell listeners plainly that he was "the Son of God."  Some considered that arrogance, but Jesus knew it was truth.

What is this strange blank spot in my consciousness, and perhaps in yours,  regarding any "best attribute"?  It may be the vestiges of shame, which causes us to overlook our better behaviour, because we know all too well what the dark side of our own nature looks like.

It may be false humility, which hopes that others will be able to see in us what we choose not to see in ourselves.  That "aw, shucks, who me?" nonsense.

But it could be, hopefully it just might be, that deep in our spirit we do recall that "there is none that does good, no not one."  (Romans 3:12)    Not unaided, all on our own anyway.  It is why we need a Saviour.

I sincerely hope it is the latter and not one of the former mind-sets.  However, only God knows.  Oh, but wait, that is the beauty of the whole thing.  Really, truly, God does know, what is good and true and worthy - what He has placed inside of each of us.

My goodness, I am suddenly encouraged.  I know the worst of myself, but only God knows the best of me, because only He is qualified to determine what that is.  He is the best judge of character in the universe and I can trust Him to judge me rightly, despite all my failures and flaws.  And "God does not show favoritism."  (Romans 2:11)

Yes, I am well and truly encouraged.  Hope your time of worship this week encouraged you as much as mine did for me.  Until next time .... Marsha

Moving Marathon

For those of you who have never stumbled in here before, we just moved for the first time in over twenty years.  It has been a daunting effort.  And I certainly cannot complain as the *LOC has done the lion's share of the packing and unpacking. (*Lovable Old Coot)

The view out the kitchen window

I on the other hand, have popped in from time to time, and placed a little item or two that appealed to me.  The little welcome ceramic in the kitchen garden window appealed to me.  The LOC didn't even notice it was there for two days.  Of course that could be because he was knee deep in boxes in the garage.

The stained glass window by the front entry way.

Sometimes I just admire the little details that made this house so appealing in the first place.  This window is just what I would have chosen myself, if I had been building this house.  I love roses and I love stained glass, so a window of stained glasses with roses as the artistic theme, well, it just makes you think this is the house we were supposed to "find."

However, while I am bringing new favorite things in, or admiring the ones that were already in place when we got here, the LOC is still out in the garage plowing through the flotsam and jetsam of our lives.  I'm inclined to just ditch it all and start fresh. 

Not very practical, I suppose.  But very tempting.

Your priorities get strangely skewed when you unpack.  I have not yet found the Claddaugh ring the LOC bought me when we were in Ireland earlier this spring.  And I have no anxiety about it at all, although it was fairly expensive.

But I was uneasy until I found the little plastic coffee scoop that my mom used every day of her life for decades.  Technically, it probably isn't worth ten cents, but it is worth a great deal to me.

Meanwhile, the LOC is finally feeling more "at peace" as he finally found the box that contained all his USB ports, thumb drives (quite frankly, I have no idea what it is you drive with only your thumb), his HDMI cords (apparently those are nearly priceless) and all the other mysterious treasures that make his day.

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So whether you are finding new treasures, or enjoying old ones, hope you are enjoying this evening.  Until next time ...Marsha

Finally - Two Pictures of Our New Place !!

View from the Living Room

Cozy and Just My Size

Okay, so obviously I do not have the mechanism down correctly quite yet.  But I do finally have pictures uploaded onto my computer and have (after trial and error) been able to post them on this page.

I thought I would at least show those of you who have been asking for pictures of our new home, two photos:  The picture of the woods is from our living room window; and then a shot of our new kitchen.

More to come, when I can work out the glitches! 

Until next time ... Marsha

Tossing a Teapot

Today I did the previously unthinkable.  I tossed a teapot.  A pretty tea pot and a good cup of tea are more than just refreshment to me.

They are symbolic of many things in my life.  Family history, comfort, beauty, and friendship.

I had my first cup of tea when I was thirteen years old.  It was given to me by the woman who would, years later, become my mother-in-law.  Tea making was a frequent activity in her kitchen, and there were certain rituals which surrounded it.  Her name was Lucy.

Today it surprises me how many women do not know the difference between a teapot and a tea kettle.  The former is what you steep the tea in after you have boiled the water in the tea kettle.  Lucy was adamant that you must first begin with fresh, cold water.

You should boil the water until the tea kettle whistled.  Now truly, so many years later, I can tell you that a whistling tea kettle has to be one of the most cheerful sounds in the world.  Why anyone would substitute that moment of cheerful anticipation for a cup of water popped into the microwave and zapped for 60 seconds is just beyond me.

Yes, I know we are all busy and in a hurry.  But some things are more than worth a few extra minutes.  A well-brewed cup of tea is one of them.

Additionally, Lucy never (and I do mean never) used tea bags.  For her, tea meant one thing:  loose leaf Lipton Tea.  

It is still my "tea of choice" although Earl Grey, Twinings, and several others are fine teas also.  Alas, I may soon have to fore go brewed loose leaf tea, as there is only one store in our area which still carries it.  Tea bags are now the norm, more's the pity.

I have formed new friendships over that first cup of shared tea.  The warmth, the sense of peaceful communication that accompanies a cup of tea is just different from that of other shared beverages.  For example, coffee drinkers may enjoy one anothers' company, but you rarely see people drinking coffee who look relaxed.  They generally look like they are amped up and are talking a mile-a-minute.  A cup of tea has only about one-third the caffeine of coffee.

Of course, it is just my opinion, but I think people having tea together tend to smile more.

It stands to reason, that with my life-long love affair with all things "tea" I would collect teapots.  I have one from a visit to Windsor Castle in England, one from Mt. Vernon, the historical home of George Washington, and many others.  They each have a little story, or family history, that goes with them.

One of my favorite teapots was given to me by my daughter, on her wedding day.  It was a "thank you" gift to me, and I cried when I opened it and read the accompanying card, after she and her new husband had departed for their honeymoon.

But today, I tossed a teapot.  We are in a new house, with new opportunities and new challenges, and when I unpacked one that had been broken years ago and glued together more than once, I asked myself why I was holding on to a broken teapot.

It was no longer usable, the glue might fail and someone could get burned.  It wasn't very pretty either, as the glue seams now showed plainly.  And goodness knows, I have plenty of other teapots to display for just the joy of looking at them.  So I tossed it in the recycle bin.

Ecclesiastes says there is a time to keep and a time to throw-away.  It was time.  There is a time to toss away old, worn out, broken things which no longer serve us well.  This applies to more than just teapots.

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Hope you are keeping the good things in life and tossing out the things that no longer serve you well.  Until next time ...Marsha

Visiting the Neighborhood

We are still in the middle of unpacking and it looks as if it may go on for a while.  I am hoping that New Year's Eve (of 2015) will find us settled in, but if that is to happen we are going to have to pick up the pace. 

At this rate it could be years before we find the spare light bulbs or the extra bed linens.  We did find keys ... to things we have not owned for twenty years!


In view of my current time constraints, today I thought I would offer a few suggestions for good places (blogs) to visit where friends of mine share their thoughts.  Each of these writers will give you a smile and/or offer something to think about.

Until Next time ... Marsha

Sonja over a bits and pieces always has something fun to share or some well-honed wisdom to offer.

Clint at Lyrics of Love and Lore is fun to visit, too; although sometimes he is full of baloney.  :)

Janette at Janette's Sage shares good thoughts.

Denise at The Quiet Quill offers thoughtful insights and warm glimpses of family life at their house.

Rick Watson at Life 101 usually will offer a few good chuckles about life in the south.

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There are lots of additional blogs that I also enjoy, but time did not permit me to list them all.  Please accept my apologies to those I regularly visit, but did not list today.  Catch you another time.  :)

Stilettos -They Can Kill You (Wrinkled Brows)

                                                                                                      
Stiletto:  a slender dagger with a blade thick in proportion to its breadth, a pointed instrument for piercing holes.

Clearly, from the two definitions above, stilettos were never intended to be worn as footwear.  As body armour, perhaps; as a weapon of self-defense, possibly; but as fashion?  I have heard it said that it must have been a man who invented these instruments of torture; because  you notice you never see a man wearing them.

Actually, this is untrue.  According to Wikipedia (that bastion of intellectual veritude) the inventor was a woman name Kristin Wagner, although there is some disagreement as to the very first maker of these things.

They came to mind today only because we have a guest staying at our house and as I placed an extra blanket on the guest bed, because the nights in the foothills are getting chilly, I could not help but notice a pair of black patent leather stiletto heels sitting by her suitcase.

My knees almost buckled in what must have been the podiatry equivalent of post-traumatic stress syndrome.  How many board rooms did I walk into over the years dressed in high-heels, while all the other attendees, all men, of course, were wearing Florsheim's or Ferragamo loafers?  Certainly something a good deal more comfortable than those loathsome stilettos.

Health-wise they are disastrous.  The very definition of a stiletto heel dictates that at the base of the heel stem where it meets the floor, it should be no wider than one-half an inch!  Really?

If you asked any sane woman whether she might like to just hop up and balance her entire body on the tip of her nose, she would justifiably look at you as if you were deranged. 

And yet, trying to balance your entire body on a half-inch diameter spot under your foot doesn't make a whole lot more sense, if you ask me.  (Of course, now that I come to think of it, no one did.)  I'm just saying.

Every foot doctor will tell you they are bad for your feet, bad for your back,  bad for your posture, .... bad, bad, bad.  I am telling you, women, Manolo Blahnick and Christian Louboutin (you know, the guy who makes all the soles of his shoes bright red) are NOT your friends.

Now don't get me wrong.  I have spent my fair share of filthy lucre on footwear.  At one point in my corporate career I had a different pair of shoes for every suit I owned, and in colors that were the height of fashion.  I like a well-coordinated ensemble as well as the next woman.  Well, I did before I retired.  These days my idea of an "ensemble" is a clean pair of jeans and a polo shirt with a sharp looking pair of Reeboks.

Where was I?  Oh, yes.  Those awful dagger-heels that will give you bunions the size of cantaloupes, plantar fasciitis, hammer toe, and probably dropsy, too - although admittedly I do not really know what dropsy actually is.

Sensible shoes.  The very phrase makes some women who fancy themselves "fashionistas" shudder at the thought.  Okay.  Fair enough.  It may be true that only lonely librarians and women of a certain age wear sensible shoes.

But I've got a news flash for you.  At least they are not making Dr. Scholl's richer than he already is, by buying corn plasters, toe splints, ointments, callous pumice, etc. by the gross.

One of the best pieces of advice I ever heard was from a woman giving a lecture to a bunch of us professional women during a seminar.  She said, "By the way, ladies, whatever else you do or don't do for yourself over the next few years, for goodness sakes, stop wearing those awful high heels and buy some good looking, but comfortable shoes.  Twenty years from now you will hunt me down to thank me."

I took her suggestion to heart and began from that day onward to select more comfortable footwear.  Do you know that stiletto heels are often associated with "foot fetishes"?  Now that cannot be a good thing.  And I am telling you that wearing your soft, fuzzy slippers for an hour or so before bedtime, isn't going to undo the damage to your feet you inflicted upon yourself during eight hours at the office, or wherever you labor.

So do yourself a favor.  The next time you are tempted to blow a wad on instruments of self-torture, stop (or at least hesitate) long enough to ask yourself this:  Will my feet thank me tomorrow?

If the answer is "no" - keep walkin'.  :)

Until next time  - your sensible brogan-wearing compatriot - Marsha

Note:  Wrinkled Brows is an occasional Monday series on a word or quote of interest (perhaps only to me).