Liam's Grandma or Maggie in Real Life

Back Home

I am back home again from NY. It was a beautiful weekend and very peaceful. Husband and I got lots done around the house, entertained Saturday night and had a fire in our wood stove Sunday night because it became very chilly. It was nice to get away together. It doesn't happen enough. Next month we will celebrate 27 years of marriage. I am very blessed.

Leaving to get out of Dodge, however, is always another story. Liam had his hernia consult and before that, I met my friend, Gail, for coffee. Gail has been valiant and faithful to God through her battle with cancer this past year. She has been undergoing tests due to some recent cancer activity in her lungs. She is a true inspiration to everyone as she battles this disease with confidence and with faith that God will not give her or her family more than they can endure. And she showed me again just why I love this dear friend so much. As we chatted, had coffee (she had hot chocolate) and laughed over silly stories, it seemed as if her battle was the furthest thing from her mind.

I got home and Catherine had apparently forgotten Liam's appointment. I walked through the door and said, "Are we ready?" "Ready for what?" I began snapping my fingers back and forth, "Hello, dear! Hernia? Circumcision? Ring a bell?" "OH!" Catherine jumped up and we were two women, flitting to and fro, prepping the little man, his bottle, his diaper bag and his passy (pacifier) in a small frenzy. I ran out to the car with Liam snapped into his car seat and opened the front passenger door. Wrong door. I opened the back door, clicked him into the base that was buckled in and ran to the driver's side. Catherine climbed in beside Liam and we were off. As we rounded the curve just near my house, the front passenger door swung open and I hit the brakes.  "Whoa, mom!  What is going on?"  "I opened the wrong door and..."  "What?"  "Never mind." I yanked the door shut and we resumed our journey. 

Catherine and I got to the appointment on time and the doctors told her what they were going to do, showing diagrams of the area where the hernia is. Liam will also be circumcised on the same day since they did not do it when he was born. He was very tiny and had some breathing issues then and they didn't want to stress him out any further.

While Catherine was scheduling the surgery, Liam laid on her lap. She touched her finger to his nose and said, "And you're getting a new pee pee too." And the nurse chimed in, "To the enjoyment and wonder of all who know him." I blurted, "Hopefully not by too many people and hopefully not until his honeymoon!" The nurse, realizing what she had said, turned fire engine red and said, "I mean..." I said, "It's ok. He's young. He doesn't even know what you said and we sure won't tell him!"

The appointment over and the surgery scheduled, we drove home where I resumed packing for NY.  I finally was ready to go and kissed Liam and Catherine and was on my way.  As I drove to the corner gas station to pick up a couple of bottled waters for my husband and I, I thought through everything...did I take care of all of the things I had to before leaving?  I nodded a firm yes. 

It wasn't until I was opening the door of the gas station and about to step in when I realized I was still wearing my pink slippers.  I stopped dead in my tracks before forcing myself forward and into the tiny area where they keep a small cooler of beverages and snacks.  "Hi, how are you?" a voice called.  In my distraction and because of my dark sunglasses, I turned to the first person I saw and said, "Great, how are you?"  "I'm great, ma'am...Over here!"  The owner was smiling and I sheepishly grabbed my waters and left to return home to get some real shoes. 

I picked up Druck at work and we were on our way.  Only received two phone calls from Catherine en route and neither were emergencies.  Received three more after we arrived just past midnight.  Druck and I fell into bed and slept soundly until morning.  We visited with family and on Sunday I baked my dad peanut butter cookies and dad, his wife, Jean, and I had cookies and tea together on their screened in porch. 

Liam survived without his grandma an entire weekend.  I wish I could say that I survived just as well without seeing him all weekend.  I couldn't wait to get back home and scoop him up.  Here we are and I have that horribly crazy hair. Liam doesn't care.   

Copyright 2008 liamsgrandma

Stomach Crunches and NY

I have been doing those dreaded stomach crunches for the past few weeks now. I won't tell you how many I am up to yet because it's embarrassing. I'll get waaay up there before too long. Why do I do this? I don't know. Maybe because I am trying to stay healthy and stay one step ahead of old age. Maybe because when I see other women my age whose bellies protrude beyond than their bustline, I think, "No way is that happening to me." Besides, recent scientific studies have shown that men and women with big bellies are more susceptible to heart attacks at a much earlier age. But, the truth be told, I mostly want to make sure that my VS tankini still fits me this summer when we take our vacation at the lake. No spare tires for me unless I'm floating on one.

I recently saw that there is a book out called, "The Yoga Face." It allegedly "eliminates wrinkles with the ultimate facelift" (I just paused in my liturgy here and ordered a copy). No, my friends, old man Wrinkles and old lady Love Handles will have to TRY to catch me. One day, they will win, but I'll fight 'em with all I've got. And why not? Taking care of ourselves helps us live longer. And even the process of just making the attempt to take care of ourselves inside and out must be worth something. All the thought that goes into each wrinkle must be good for the brain. :0)More on calories, intake, exercise in the future.

Liam has his hernia consultation tomorrow and after he is probed and prodded by this new doctor, we will return home where I will drop the little mommy and baby off, grab my bag and hit the road. Off again to New York. Before I leave this time, I will remind Catherine to please only call 50 times in 7 minutes if it is a TRUE emergency. I will also give her the number for 911 again.

And some good news for today - Catherine got the job. Thank you, Jesus.

Arnie, Liam, Earth Day

I must begin today's blog with a statement I've said before, "I love my job." Granted, I don't always like going there because I have other things I would much rather be doing. But if I have to go to work, this is the place I want to be. My boss, Arnie, has to be one of the most positive people I've ever met. And part of his positive attitude is his sense of humor. Arnie is a born comedian and so, I have realized that it took a very special person in his wife, Liz, to marry Arnie. I don't know if I could live with the constant one-liners, although living with it at work is quite tolerable and enjoyable.

On Tuesday, I told Arnie that we're starting something new in the office. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, 30 minutes before we eat our lunch, we are going to do calisthenics. Arnie immediately went into the yoga tree pose I taught him a few weeks back (how a 61 year old, out of shape man can do the tree pose when I struggle with my balance on that one is beyond me). I said, "No, we'll do some yoga to wind down but we need some aerobic exercise." Arnie went back into the tree pose, I rolled my eyes, and went back to work.

Later, Arnie was eating what looked to me to be a Snicker's bar. I didn't say anything but only gave a look at what he calls his six-pack of a stomach when, in reality, it's a quarter keg. He said, "What? This is an energy bar," and with a huff went back into his office. He reappeared just after lunch with a cup of tea. "YOU'RE drinking tea?" I said. I have been trying to sell Arnie on tea for awhile. I drink about 4 cups a day which has all kinds of health benefits - anti-oxidants for the inner body and for great skin on the outer body, phyophenols for anti-aging, and so on. Arnie replied that Liz has him on a diet and that he's supposed to drink this energy tea at 3 pm. I looked at the clock and it was 1:05. He said he was still hungry from that power bar and decided to drink the tea now. I asked him what was in that ENERGY tea. "I don't know, a little cocaine, some strychnine." He disappeared again into his office.

It was a busy day with rushes to get things out, but we did it, and I left my desk in good order at 5 pm. Driving home, I listened to the radio and the topic was Earth Day. We have done so much damage to this old earth, that I wonder if we really have destroyed it beyond repair. I think of those who just don't care and who say, "I won't be here when the earth dies, so what do I care?" People, what's wrong with you? If any of you have a beautiful child or a grandchild who looks at you with absolute trust and dependence, don't you care about them? Don't you care about their children? Just because you won't be able to see them or hold those great great grandchildren in your arms, does that make it easier for you to say it's ok for them to suffer in sweltering heat, or to fight each other in the streets for clean water? My neighbor around the corner recycles nothing. She bags up her trash and recyclables in black bags and throws them on the curb Wednesday evenings and she is ok with that. She and her husband drive big cars and think nothing of not cleaning up after their dog when they take her on a walk (Ok, well maybe the dog poop is not so much related to Earth Day...). And she insists that the earth will be fine or her other statement, as I said before, is that she won't be here anyway. These are the times when I wish there really was such a thing as reincarnation and she comes back over and over again as the earth gets worse and worse. For more information on what you can do to help this old Mother Earth, go to: http://www.earthday.net/

Meanwhile, Liam's fussiness seems to have been quelled somewhat by a wonderful natural substance called "Gripe Water."  He is so used to his screaming and our attempts to soothe him that yesterday when I got home from work, he was doing more of a whining/cry type of thing when he was put down.  I told Catherine we have already created a little tyrant and he's not even 8 weeks old yet!  And for such a little guy, he sure can bellow.  But we are so in love with this little man and always will be.  God is good.

Uncle Chip

One day last week, after arriving home and making my routine stop to the mailbox, the wind picked up and I temporarily lost a piece of mail to those invisible currents.  The envelope rose and fell to the ground and then  lifted again on fingers of a taunting breeze.  Just before I reached it, the wind teased again and pulled it just out of my reach.  As I ran down the street in my high heels, my neighbor called out, "Can I get that for you?"  I stopped abruptly, and gratefully nodded. 

That envelope, that remained just out of my reach, reminds me of my son.  I don't write much about "Chip" for the simple reason that it is just too painful.  And while I have a very high threshhold for pain, both physical and emotional, this wound is just too big and too open to share with the rest of the world.  Maybe one day it won't be so difficult.  

I was reminded again of Chip on Sunday as I trimmed my rosebush.  I thought of him when I held him as a baby, much like I do Liam now.  And, like Liam, Chip was once fresh and new. Like the rose bush's tender new shoots, I watched him grow, nurtured him and cultivated him with all I had to give him and, difficult as it might have been at various times, I had to prune now and then as well.   

As I looked at the gnarled shoots and the last of the dried rose hips that clung to the bush through the winter, I remembered that this bush was beautiful last year.  And I know that it has potential for beauty still to come.  But still, this thing of beauty bears its thorns.  Despite how attracted one can be to a rose, we must guard ourselves against its thorns.  But, just like on Sunday, hard as I tried not to let myself be pierced, I was anyway.  As I bent and scooped the trimmings, a single tear rolled out of the corner of my eye.  I didn't brush it away but, instead, left it there, convinced that by doing so, it would block another from taking its place.   

I keep praying that , like my neighbor catching that envelope as I wildly chased after it, someone or something will catch my son before it is too late. Until then, my husband and I will do the best we can and, hopefully, like my tea roses, this rose bush will survive the winter.

Copyright 2008 liamsgrandma

Words Can Make Us, Break Us, Heal Us, Hurt Us

As I drove to work this morning, I heard the song, "I'll Be." Here are the words:

The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful
Stop me and steal my breath.
Emeralds from mountains thrust toward the sky
Never revealing their depth.
Tell me that we belong together,
Dress it up with the trappings of love.
I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips,
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above.

Chorus
I'll be your crying shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest event of your life

Rain falls angry on the tin roof
As we lie awake in my bed.
You're my survival, you're my living proof
My love is alive, not dead.
Tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love.
I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips,
Instead of the gallows of heartache, that hang from above.

Repeat Chorus

I've been dropped out, burned up, fought my way back from the dead
Tuned in, turned on, Remembered the things that you said.

**************************************************************

These words somehow managed to catch me off guard and brought forth in me emotions that I didn't have time to prepare for or understand. It brought memories of days gone by, people long gone, and a lot of hypotheticals. And now, as I sit here in the quiet of evening, I can't stop thinking about those words or how they effect me or how to turn them back and push them away. It is amazing how words or a string or collection of words can cause us to think on things we wouldn't have thought about otherwise.

Meanwhile, a very fussy Liam has finally given it up and he and his mom have peacefully trundled off to bed. I think I'll go to my own space and lay my head to rest. Good night!

Glamour Went Out the Window A Long Time Ago and Chickadee Wedding Bells!

It's a beautiful weekend! And before I get to glamour, let me say that I was outside this afternoon trimming, pruning and pulling weeds when two chickadees came fluttering to my bird house that is and has been in my Mulberry Tree for a few years. First, the male perched outside the hole and checked it out, flew up to a higher branch, and I swear I think I saw him nod to the female to go take a look. Holy Wedding Bells! She did. Then she went up on a branch near her hubby-to-be and they chattered for a moment before taking off. My spirits soared, although with the real estate market the way it is now, I may not see them again. But I'll keep watching. I even went out to make sure the inside looked ok, i.e., no old wasp nests, etc. I hope they were impressed.

After seeing those two young lovers, I made a mad dash through the house looking for Druck to tell him about our potential newlyweds. I finally found him in the garage and, as usual, he was looking for something to do with fertilizer and was not listening well. Jumping up and down and clasping my hands, I relayed the news. I sprinted back to the door when he said, "What was that again?" I paused and repeated things, more slowly this time. "Ah," he said, nodding to make it look like he had at least some interest.

I couldn't remember the name of the tree the bird house is in so when he came in, I was sitting at the computer trying to find it online. "What IS the name of that tree again?" He told me it was a mulberry tree. As I checked online to verify, I told him if he was right, I would make out with him for a full 30 seconds. To his thrill, he WAS right and I jumped up, grabbed him and gave him a pucker like it would be our last. When we caught our breath, I ran back to the sliding glass door to see if our visitors had returned.

Now on to glamour. As I prepared for Church this morning and Liam was donning his onesie best (with help from his mother, of course), I checked the hem of the skirt I was about to put on because I didn't want another scene like the one I encountered on Friday. While I try very hard to look my best, the adventures that I have had (including my skirt falling off while running to catch the Fedex man at work, my slip falling off, etc., and all stories for another time), keep telling me that I just can't pull it off.

Friday afternoon, I readied for work and decided to don the lovely white chiffon-like peasant skirt which is the same one I loaned to Catherine when she interviewed for her job. I wore a brown top, my long pearls and the mother of pearl earrings handed down to me by my grandmother. And my too-short-hair-because-my-hairdresser-must-have-had-other-things-on-her-mind routine is down to a T. It didn't take me long to select the right gel and "hair putty" to smoosh around and wildly rub my head, look in the mirror and shout, "Voila!" With a spritz of my patchouli cologne on the back of my neck and on each wrist, I was ready to knock the business world dead.

I wriggled my toes into my 3-inch open toed Candies, and, feeling quite smartly dressed, headed for the door to my bedroom. Alas, the heel of the left shoe caught in the hem of my long skirt and sent me careening into the closet which was left ajar. As I grasped wildly at hangers, blazers, skirts and pants, I felt like a little kid again, hiding in the clothes racks of some department store while mom called for me. But this time, no one came to find me. This time, I wasn't hidden inside the forest of clothes, giggling with delight. This time, I was alone and quite stunned amidst the pile of skirts, slacks and blazers I had just pulled off of the rack. After the initial shock wore off, I began to laugh. After unsprawling my legs, I climbed out onto the carpet, smoothed my skirt and checked the hem. All was well. "Let's start this over," I thought as I opened the door and departed, as originally planned - like a lady. And, by the way, who says that a 48 year old grandmother can't wear Candies? It wasn't the Candies' fault for the mishap anyway. It was that darned skirt.

Meanwhile, Liam gave me a huge grin to make the calamity of that moment all seem ok as I grabbed my purse and keys, snuggled him and left for work.

Copyright 2008 liamsgrandma

Not the best of days...

Yesterday I was out of work with a very upset stomach. Was supposed to have an Arbonne party last night but was unable to because my stomach was so upset. I will be working 2-5 today to try to make up for some of the time. I know they really count on me being there since we are a small office and when I miss, it is difficult.

Yesterday was Liam's six week check up and he now can officially be called a sack of potatoes. He weighs 10 pounds. He also received his first immunizations and the nurse told Catherine to lean over him and talk to him so that he could hear his voice. As soon as she stuck him with the first needle, his face turned bright red and he started to cry so hard but it was that kind of cry where you can't catch your breath - his mouth was opened but he wasn't letting it out. Finally, he let out a scream and I started bawling too. Finally, it was over and we left. That set the mood for me the rest of the day and I was quite somber after that. Perhaps run down is more like it. Catherine won't be getting a car any time soon; she just finished the second test at her potential job and didn't pass section 2. They give you 101 questions and you can only miss 9. Tough to get a job nowadays. Meanwhile, on my days off, we traipse all over, as my mother used to say, "Hell's half acre."

Tomorrow is Saturday and I told Catherine that after we finish our errands I must and I mean MUST clean this house. The best laid plans....I was supposed to do that on Wednesday, but it never happened. If one were to walk into this house, he/she would think I was the marketing director of some baby store conglomerate. And everything else is misplaced to accommodate our inventory of baby "stuff." So Saturday is cleaning day, again, as my mom would say, "Come hell or high water." Mom always had a way with words.

I have to say that I don't know how we raised two kids without losing our minds, but then, I must remind myself that I'm no spring chicken anymore. Joan Lunden had twins through a surrogate mother at age 50. I'm not even 50 yet and I want to ask her, "Are you insane?" But then the wealthy people often have nannies, sometimes more than one. I have to admit that I am glad that we couldn't afford a nanny. Although I wouldn't have had one (or two) even if I could afford them. Life is too fleeting. Time with children is short and who wants a nanny to see their first smile or watch them take their first steps?

Off to put my face on (as my GRANDmother used to say) and prepare for work. It's a glorious day here - mid 70s and life is good.

Copyright 2008 liamsgrandma

Sleepless Nights and Prayer

I finally decided to get up at 5 am since I had been awake since 3:45. Many things swirling around in my mind, most of which I should lay to rest. The mountain of boxes in the garage that must be sorted through after their long trip from Alaska, my collection of orchid plants which I am thinking of giving away because they no longer have a place to be since Catherine and Liam took over the room I kept them in, the old run-down kitchen which we had planned on replacing this year but now we will have to wait on because we have no idea how long it will be before Catherine can get on her own feet with a baby in tow. The prospect of Liam growing up without a father and him wondering why and and me wondering how that might effect his self-esteem. All of the things that a mother and a new grandmother thinks on and tries not to worry about. During such times, the only thing that calms me is laying it all out and offering it all up in prayer. Surrendering all of these things to a power much greater than anything I could ever comprehend, and knowing that I am heard and loved, helps to calm my fraying nerves.

Through prayer, I have seen a dear friend healed of Stage 4 cancer when the prognosis was not good. I organized a prayer team of over 200 people who prayed regularly. People took time slots of prayer beginning at 5:30 am each day and ending at 11 pm. At any given hour, someone (and oftentimes many people) prayed during the long weeks of treatments. A true blessing. Through prayer, after months of searching for a job in Alaska, I went to God and said, "Catherine needs a job this week," and it happened. Through prayer, a dear friend's mother was delivered from congestive heart failure after being in and out of the hospital. I could go on and on but this is what keeps me going. Knowing that I am not alone, especially when the mountains seem, at times, insurmountable.

We think that Liam has his 6 week check up today (after the mix-up last week when they allegedly scheduled him for 4/9 and when we arrived, told us we were mistaken and that it was today - even though the appointment card they gave us said 4/9). Yesterday, Catherine got a message that Liam's doctor has gone on maternity leave and to call to either reschedule with one of the other doctors or see if one can squeeze us in today.

The remainder of my day will hopefully be spent cleaning and organizing, with at least one trip to the grocery store and, hopefully, I will be able to enjoy preparing a very nice meal for dinner this evening. But before I do one more thing, I will be going now and, yes, I'm getting on my knees in prayer.

Copyright 2008 liamsgrandma

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig!

New York was somewhat peaceful although I kinda felt like I ran around the entire time.  There were moments of definite relaxation, however.  I saw an old friend for coffee which was nice, saw my in-laws, including my sister-in-law for dinner, saw my dad and his wife and my sister. Here is a photo of our street on Sunday morning, just outside of my house.   

En route to NY, I got a call from Catherine that she couldn't take it anymore because Liam had been crying all day.  Now, granted, the little guy hadn't pooped for a day and a half, which was unusual for him, so we knew he was uncomfortable although the doctor said that it was nothing to worry about (oh yeah? then YOU try to soothe a constipated baby, Dr. Know-it-All!).  And here I was, three hours into my drive and my daughter is telling me she just can't do this anymore (I have news for you, kid - you can't take him back).

I said, in a very calm, concerned voice, "Did you check his diaper?  Is he wet? Did you burp him?"  She flung back a high-pitched, "Of COURSE I tried all of those things, MOM!  What do you think I am, retarded????"  Click.  Sighing, I turned my phone off and continued to drive.  A few minutes later, I turned the phone back on and tried to call her.  I had no service for about 15 minutes (that AT&T commercial where they sing, 'All 'round the world....' isn't fooling me unless they're talking about some other planet they service).

When I finally got through to Catherine, Liam had vomited all over and she was going to give him a bath.  I told her he probably just couldn't take in anymore until some came out the other end. I told her I'd call her back in awhile, which I did and by then, he had vomited again while she was giving him a bath and he was lethargic.  Feeling just a bit panicked, I told her to call one of our neighbors and that I was turning around.  I turned around and called Nancy and Pat and they both went over to assess things.  They called me back and everything was fine and Liam had pooped.  I turned around AGAIN and headed back to NY.  I didn't arrive until midnight and sat up for another hour, shivering on the edge of the couch, until the house warmed up and then finally went to bed.

Since I travel through Canada, I have to stop at the borders and give them all kinds of personal information, the depth of which depends on the border guard.  It was late when I got to the border to enter NY and the guard had his flashlight out, looking in my windows.  I imagined all kinds of things he hoped to find - someone bound and gagged on the backseat, or a dead body, perhaps? Who knows, but he said, "Now what brings a woman out this late at night, traveling from one state to the next?"  I said, "Well, I'll tell you..."  "Please do," he responded.  "My husband has been out of town all week and my two adult grown children have moved back home, one bringing with her a newborn baby.  I need a break."  Without a word, but with some flair in his gesture, he swooped his arm around in a circle and pointed to the open road.  "Thank you,"  I said, and was off.   

Sunday night, I spent time in the company of a little brown mouse who scampered across the living room floor.  He was too fast for me to catch to put outdoors so I called my husband to ask what I should do (like he could help from where he was). Just as I did that, I saw him wriggle under the wood box door; he was gone and I didn't see him again.  Rotten little critter.  At least I know where they are coming in and we will have to take care of that next time we are in New York.  Another photo of the view around the corner which is so much lovelier in summer and fall. 

When I arrived home last night at around 8:15, the house was a mess, dishes were in the sink, the dishwasher had clean dishes in it waiting to be escorted to their respective cupboards, and baby STUFF was everywhere.  I decided that I was NOT making dinner, that it was every man, woman and child for him/herself and I was going to spend some time with Liam and go to bed.  Which I did. 

This morning, I told Catherine that the house was out of control and that tomorrow,  my day off, will have to be considered by her to be a work day for me and that I cannot help with Liam all that much because I can't take the chaos anymore and am going to put it to rest and clean, organize and clean some more.  She said she would help.  With a very fussy baby, I am not so certain that will happen, but we will see.  Perhaps Liam will surprise us.  Until then....

Copyright 2008 liamsgrandma

I love New York!

Getting ready to leave for New York. Have a few errands to run this morning first, one of them being dropping Catherine off for her test (I can't wait until she gets a car). She will be studying again this morning while I meet with the neighbor ladies and we do our study together. Liam will be joining us so I don't know how much will actually be accomplished during that time.

As I sit typing this, our oldest cat, Simon, is sitting somewhere yowling his head off. He is definitely an Alzheimer's cat who screams at his water dish before he'll drink it, trumpeting to the world that he's thirsty. When it's time to eat and I lay the dishes down for his "brothers," before he goes to his dish, he has to sneak up and take a bite at at least one of the butts of his feline foes. If I haven't mentioned, we have five cats. Most were rescued and four of them despise Simon and want to kill him. So he takes up residency in our upstairs bathroom until he goes to kitty heaven. When I am home and able to watch him, however, he gets to come out and sit with me. That hasn't happened much since Liam arrived.

This morning on my way to the neighbor's house, I was rushing around, grabbing things and headed for the door. Catherine said, very matter-of-factly, "Your shirt is on inside out." I stopped, looked, and sure enough, it was. I flipped it around and headed out the door.

I got back home in time for Catherine to get to her test, but on the way, we had to turn around because she forgot her notebook with paperwork. At least her clothes were on the right way, I thought, as I turned around and rushed back. Unfortunately, this made her four minutes late. She hopped out of the car and Liam and I headed back home, at which point he decided to start some yowling of his own. I drove along, turning the steering wheel back and forth and the car became a makeshift rocker. This quieted the angry boy until we got home and I was able to change him and give him a bottle.

After Catherine's test, I will bring her home, pick up my bag and, as I said to my friends this morning, "Drive off like a bat outta hell." Am looking forward to spending time on my enclosed porch, meditating, looking at the beauty that the four acres provide, reading and taking time for prayer

I'll be back on Tuesday! A happy weekend to all.

Copyright 2008 liamsgrandma