tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69194019362528339812024-02-07T01:18:04.619-07:00A Flash In The PamPamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-55372316166558557532023-02-22T18:12:00.008-07:002023-02-23T10:45:08.434-07:00Dial Up Some Comfort<p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwbTUroJvc2o4z4kWUPfEecb0aNmDFtwggoF2z89EO5GzJadlPg_HrqJGl382U7JC0G43FfiAKqOyKmk89De8jusA88zlPSfuhcVJ8IwhMlHljftPcA6mQXFqFJ8n8xPwFpHiPfLFaJXS8W6S9ZWtf90KI84t_5bQ0ckvSnONHQIJSqKOkhtfF8pBPw/s2048/netflixblanket.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1825" data-original-width="2048" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwbTUroJvc2o4z4kWUPfEecb0aNmDFtwggoF2z89EO5GzJadlPg_HrqJGl382U7JC0G43FfiAKqOyKmk89De8jusA88zlPSfuhcVJ8IwhMlHljftPcA6mQXFqFJ8n8xPwFpHiPfLFaJXS8W6S9ZWtf90KI84t_5bQ0ckvSnONHQIJSqKOkhtfF8pBPw/s320/netflixblanket.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span><br /> </span>Do you have random thoughts about everyday things, that just hit you? You know… simple things, things you use and don’t take time to appreciate most of the time.</span><p></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"> We were farm kids on the North Dakota prairie, in an old two story, uninsulated farm house, with a big old coal furnace contraption in the basement. Only one big metal grate in the middle of the living room floor, heated the whole two story house. That was the only heat we had in the winter. The furnace itself was directly below the big 36”or so, grate in the center of the living room. We opened and shut the damper, with a metal chain on the wall. That chain allowed us to get more or less heat, and if you valued your life, kids kept their hands off it! Dad would haul a couple loads of coal into the basement in the fall. Backing the truck up to the basement window, he removed the window with about ten coats of red paint on the frame. Then he'd use the hoist on the truck to tumble the coal in the window opening. It would thunderously empty into the window hole, into the basement. There was always some he’d have to throw in by hand and move it around in the basement to a handy spot to load or “fix the furnace”. Then they would have to keep the coal stove going all the time. It was front and foremost all day and night, every day and night. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAbj4cpBkMLPFLIVJIjzawKaI5SnloG4dDHoOTv2Ha3t_xH7vHLykNpTgk8-wotepA0hJUCRzvos49bxgyI6gbCzHbzssbwD9WgiaAyqxLyPjcI4dZvLsDfKD845F0ZYhdFw656L0_jCffC0Bq84gYav8xG4S2uR0mQ9XN_6N9ZAjNW79Al971yEmyzw" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAbj4cpBkMLPFLIVJIjzawKaI5SnloG4dDHoOTv2Ha3t_xH7vHLykNpTgk8-wotepA0hJUCRzvos49bxgyI6gbCzHbzssbwD9WgiaAyqxLyPjcI4dZvLsDfKD845F0ZYhdFw656L0_jCffC0Bq84gYav8xG4S2uR0mQ9XN_6N9ZAjNW79Al971yEmyzw" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgAbj4cpBkMLPFLIVJIjzawKaI5SnloG4dDHoOTv2Ha3t_xH7vHLykNpTgk8-wotepA0hJUCRzvos49bxgyI6gbCzHbzssbwD9WgiaAyqxLyPjcI4dZvLsDfKD845F0ZYhdFw656L0_jCffC0Bq84gYav8xG4S2uR0mQ9XN_6N9ZAjNW79Al971yEmyzw" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></span></div>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The upstairs door, we called it, blocked of the second story where our bedrooms were. That door was kept shut all the time. They only opened it in the evening before bedtime so as not to lose any heat upstairs when no one was up there. A few hours before bed though, they would open the door so the heat would drift up there. It NEVER felt like any did though…we would sleep under five or six big blankets and nothing was worse that that first plunge into bed at night. Freezing cold, until you got a little nest warmed up from your body.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"> </span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxYXu9aASINRAaB0fQYVsvAqDMJ8QQXGrHGXriVCK4LYl9dhpJpjfyIKXMH6E_EtMIDRy45kIm_AOc2IIJo0vqwHI7C1dOpqlkPIsC70BuTDP4nLZWPEiiduPoVEY9elGSxhqWylsQ5qAJE7E8cCj_JY0IRbU6Xr2saFq5AD9I9cG0qHJ-ySACwZeJGA" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2526" data-original-width="2984" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxYXu9aASINRAaB0fQYVsvAqDMJ8QQXGrHGXriVCK4LYl9dhpJpjfyIKXMH6E_EtMIDRy45kIm_AOc2IIJo0vqwHI7C1dOpqlkPIsC70BuTDP4nLZWPEiiduPoVEY9elGSxhqWylsQ5qAJE7E8cCj_JY0IRbU6Xr2saFq5AD9I9cG0qHJ-ySACwZeJGA=w268-h226" width="268" /></a></span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just how cold it was is hard to explain to anybody who hasn't experienced it, or even comprehend myself anymore really, when I have been blessed with fifty years of comfort. Those days are wayyyyy in the rear view mirror! When they put houses together there are of course nail heads every so far. Back then, (because that was before they sheet rocked and used mud over the nails), I'm not kidding when I say there was frost on all those nail heads inside our room and heavy frost, like 1/2 inch thick, on the inside of our windows. If you talked you could see your breath! When Mom got us up in the morning, Dad had already made the cold trip downstairs and had the furnace blazing with a new coal chunk and the damper was wide open... meaning we were getting all the heat we could. Mom would hand us our clothes and we’d dress on the furnace grate. The middle round section was hot, most of the time too hot, to stand on! But the outside corners were as cold as the middle was hot, so we dressed on the cold part but kept our body parts close to the middle, turning from front to back like a burger trying to get both sides cooked ha! After we got dressed we would usually have hot cereal of something hardy for breakfast before the bus picked us up. School was seventeen miles away, but that doesn’t count all the pickups along the way to school. It took an hour and a half to get to school. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When I was ten or so Mom and Dad got a little “oil burner” stove they put in the kitchen. That was so nice to warm our hands and feet on because the bottom actually had a blower on the bottom and was nice. Plus we could keep a tea kettle with hot water on the top of it all the time for tea or whatever we needed hot water for. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After Dad passed away in the late sixties, Mom decided to “spruce up” the house a little bit, and the hauling of the coal was overwhelming for her. She had the old coal furnace torn out and hauled away, and a new propane furnace one with a big silver pig on the lawn to supply the gas. No more with coal dumping, now that it was just Mom, Kathy and I on the farm. That meant the big grate came out of the center of the living room floor and heat registers were put in all over the house ( still not upstairs though, we still just opened the door and let some heat up and it was still COLD). We had a nice gold thermostat on the wall now, carpet on the floor and wood paneling on the walls. We were moving up in the world as far as comfort, that was for sure! I remember loving to lay on the living room carpet with a blanket over the register. Heat filled up the blanket! What a great way to watch TV even though Mom always complained I was "hogging all the heat"! </span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today Easton had a running meet after school that was canceled due to a cold, windy day, complete with blowing dust. I did laundry and dishes and some other work but decided at 4:30 i was going to call it a day. I’ve been watching a show called New Amsterdam and I like it so much, that even though it’s extremely filled with one sided social messages that I usually bail out on… the show is so good I’ve kept on watching. I love it! As I got my drink, my phone, and settled in to watch tv… I snapped on my electric throw, one of my favorite things in the universe. I have always been extremely stiff and arthritic, so I have a couple electric shoulder throws and a nice big sheepskin throw I use every day. Most days I snap them on and think…"I love this thing” and it ends there. But today, my mind traveled to all the years when I was young and we could have only dreamed of such a luxury…a HEATED blanket! Or an indoor toilet too, but i won't go there. What a wonderful invention! Gratitude people, for simple every day things! Appreciate the small things because without them, they become huge things. </span></p><div><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-43867349880002286602022-03-31T14:12:00.005-07:002022-03-31T20:33:35.188-07:00God I Need A Roadmap<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: 11px;"> </span> Have you ever wondered, just what is the right way to worship God? I just finished watching the Hillsong documentary. I posted on Facebook about how I felt about Brian Houston (who I had never heard of). last week resigning due to many marital infidelities that were coming out and probably over this documentary too.Now there"s Carl Lentz that I hadn't heard of. It just infuriates me so much, I had to write about it. Pastors that are failing people at this level is doing immeasurable damage! I hate to admit what I am going to admit in this blog but I want to be real. </span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> This organized religion</span></span> struggle is real. </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue;"><span>My questions for myself are: am I supposed to be Lutheran like I was raised? I didn’t have any problems with it only that so many times it just seemed like a lot of thee and thy wording, and nothing real was speaking to my everyday life. We were told by Billy Graham, that you need a testimony, you need to come forward and be born again. Mom and I did that in Regis theater in Stanley after at a confirmation assignemnt to see his movie many years ago because Billy told us to in the film and we respected him and wanted to. We always listened to him on television. It’s our calling he said, "to call others and lead them to baptism" as well. But it is so foreign to polite Lutherans to ask people, “have you heard the word of the Lord today and if you haven’t let me tell you about it”. To do that you would need to be perfect yourself is the way we always felt. When we moved to Minot we joined First Lutheran Church. I had Brendon baptized there as a baby. I say I, because Kerry and I were fighting over the Jehovah Witness thing his Mom wanted us to be, and he wouldn’t go, so I did it alone. Then we came here to AZ. We tried a few Lutheran churches with the same feeling as before. Christmas sermons that didn’t touch me at all, but I felt good about going because I “should” have. Then we went to Mission here in Gilbert which is a mini Hillsong type mega church. When we first started it was the absolute best! We felt like we had found what we needed and we had a lot of healing to do. The only negative for us was a lot of people had their hands up, praising God and speaking out. Something conservative ND Lutherans don’t do is draw attention to yourselves. We had a charismatic speaker there who was the best I’d ever heard. He had you look up what he was talking about in your bible. You went with your Bible bag. The music was old hymns and new songs … but familiar new songs. Then that music group left and it just wasn’t the same but the messages left you working on yourself for the next week, so we kept going. Then the bomb dropped and the news hit that like Brian Houston our favorite pastor had also been having affairs while speaking on marriage with his wife in the first row, right side. He was terminated and we got a new pastor. That set both Sydney and I back to start. </span></span></span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We are in the middle of no pastor again now there, and after watching the Hillsong documentary I’m asking is why? Why do these people who have everything, let so many people down? I can think of so many. Jim and Tammy Baker with their gold everything and skimming money and Jimmy Swaggart, and Josh Duggar and a lot of others. So many times in my life things are so off with the actual church pastors. When Brendon got confirmed we had a pastor that was calling them “little shits” and other names, a lot of swearing in the regular during confirmation class. Another time the “board” got new red carpet installed in the church and then every Sunday for a month there would be a new board member getting up and asking you to dig deep because this carpet had to be paid for. Shouldn’t we have raised the money and then gotten the carpet because aren’t we supposed to try not to be in debt? Its the money thing for me. Mission too is always asking for more money and they have every single strobe light and backdrop you could imagine. Gone are the days that you raised money to pay your pastors expenses. I have never given a cent to a church in the form of a check because they used those envelopes with your number on them or a check. At tax time, Mom would figure out how much she had give and what more she should give for the taxes in the seventies. When I go now, I give a little cash because I can’t pass by the offering plate, my pride won’t let me do that. But it’s not a lot because I have my own little ministry, and </span></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My point of this blog is to admit that at 66 I’m confused about how I feel about organized religion, tithing, and what God meant for us. I know too much now about the evils, wars and sexual sins that have happened from the abuse of power over many ages. I AM NOT CONFUSED ABOUT GOD, do not confuse what i am saying. I believe in God to the depth of my core and nothing will make me doubt he’s being and that Jesus his son died for my sins, all of our sins. I believe God has a purpose for my life and I will live until his purpose for me is over and only he knows that day. But should I worship this way or that way? If they have their hands up and I don’t… do they feel it more that me? Why do I give money with two single daughters working more than one job, raising kids for them to blow it on trivial things. I love listening to a good celebrity pastor because they are marketed, primed and practiced to be good. I love Steve who speaks at our church, he's my favorite to listen to and I pray for him moving forward that he not get to big for his britches like my Grandma used to say. But lately after so many fall, who am I really listening to? Since my bout with Covid I have really pulled in, like I did in the early eighties, to read what God is saying to me rather personally than thru the lens of another. And I have decided I don’t care if Brian Houston was sinning, a lot of good music came out of Hillsong. I don’t care if Mark was abusing his power thats his to reconcile. Maybe the devil really goes after those making a difference, calling people in, I don’t know. I am praying about it, I’m asking God to clear these things up for me, because I admit I’m lost on it and you know me I always have an opinion about everything. </span>So keep me in your prayers to sort through this and I too will pray for all of us struggling to sort through whats real and what's not. </p><div><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-38577791477858948792020-04-10T22:23:00.001-07:002023-02-22T18:30:18.399-07:00The Illness That Scared The Whole World<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: 11px;"> </span><span style="font-size: medium;">Do you remember the exact moment you thought this Cororna virus is unlike any illness you’d seen in your life time? Oh yes, there's been Sars, or Ebola, and as frightening as they sounded to me, I wasn’t holded up in my home, scared to be exposed to my own kids! For me it was when they started talking about letting school out! I thought this is serious, we about to learn how unpredictable this life journey is and how fast it can flip! </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Time with our loved ones isn’t just a given. When school did let out that put Shelbey at home with her boys so that was a relief for me, because I had picked up a cough that Kerry had first and it was one of those hackers where you think you may cough up a lung before you are done! Every day for a six weeks we coughed and coughed with little sleep! No fever just hacking. Sydney was still working and I really worried about her touching maybe 30 peoples hair and beards etc. every day and then coming home to get Easton and maybe exposing him and us. Her bosses were so good though that they held a zoom meeting right away and ask all the staff if they were comfortable working. Syd said she cried and said she was so worried about dragging something to us with Easton coming back and forth so she cut way down and her bosses were ok with everyone doing whats right for their own family. Then later that month they decided to close before it was ever decided they had to because they care about the employees. They said we say we are a family and we are going to act like a family. Melissa and Brendon got grounded to their houses too, so with all that said and all our family safe I should have hit the deck running with all the projects I have to do, papers to sort, Shutterfly books to make, garage to clean, pantry to clean …you name it, I have it to do. Did I? NO! Only Brendon and Melissa did that - just hit the ground running and put up a chicken coup, painted their pantry etc. I, on the other hand, sat around for days (30 to be exact) like I’d been shocked with a stun gun! I was still coughing, yeah… thats my excuse. Then I got antibiotics and took some steroids and got better but the numbness and disarray in my life continued. I missed the kids like crazy for one thing, the stories of people gasping through masks on facebook where causing me to panic and be sad, beloved entertainers getting and dying from it, more stories of people having to go in the hospital, ALONE TO and die alone with no family was really dragging my mind through the darkness. I cant think of anything worse. We always have a running anxiety level in our family and Sydney said at one point, “I just want my old anxiety back”! I thought… me too! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">As I write this I ask myself… why am I writing about it? It hasn’t affected me it like it affected all those who lost family members? I wasn’t holding up a sign to my family on the other side of the glass? What am I complaining about? Too much netflix? To much cooking? Too much sleeping in? It’s a lil like writing about 911 when you lived in Phoenix at the time. Like how dare I really, but yet I feel like I need to get out what I’m feeling about it!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">So how is this going to change us? How are we going to come out of this? Are we going to hustle to the store the first day we can….not me, I’m a chicken with compromised lungs. I won’t be. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Maybe when we get to the other side of this we will realize we are stronger than we ever thought we could be. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Maybe we’ll wake up every day with a prayer of gratitude, I mean before our feet hit the floor a lil thank you to God for surviving this pandemic, and thankful for this day with our family.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Maybe we’ll be thankful for our work, even though it’s all too much sometimes gives us a way to take care of ourselves and our families and see our children in school, our clients that we miss and our co workers. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Maybe our priorities with become more focused, more clear about what if it were all over tomorrow is really important enough to spend your days doing and the reasons for it. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Maybe precious is a new word we will use often. Our faith in God is precious, our kids are precious, our parents are precious our extended family is precious. Our unpredictable life is precious. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none; font-size: medium;">Today is Good Friday, Jesus died on the cross for us only to raise again on Sunday, We too will raise again! Trust God. </span></div>
Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-36107710537040410052020-01-21T17:34:00.003-07:002022-03-31T20:30:34.258-07:00The Famous Family Boat Story<div style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZon1RRvqMKPRDfLC7qAgsE0SirvuTR_U6Bjn6bnRtPwqeEecN6kWOFqB56woBU32_Dnu2ahmV90qT_bFVrObfP1IusUn4PfccVll2Vf8Efnn14fDAiQjEIgYB2fNhAAU40ZmtTSI8Er0/s1600/Father%2527s-Day-Fishing-Coloring-Pages-%255Bwww.getcoloringpages.com%255D.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZon1RRvqMKPRDfLC7qAgsE0SirvuTR_U6Bjn6bnRtPwqeEecN6kWOFqB56woBU32_Dnu2ahmV90qT_bFVrObfP1IusUn4PfccVll2Vf8Efnn14fDAiQjEIgYB2fNhAAU40ZmtTSI8Er0/s320/Father%2527s-Day-Fishing-Coloring-Pages-%255Bwww.getcoloringpages.com%255D.gif" width="256" /></a>You know that feeling when your intuition knows better, but you do it anyway? When Kerry and I were young parents we hardly ever went anywhere without our kids. Once in a while Mom would keep our kids and Kerry’s Mom would keep Lori and Kelly’s kids, so we could go somewhere, which would be the case this long awaited camping weekend. We had an old school bus that was fixed up into a camper and Kelly and Lori had a pop up tent camper. To make it a really special weekend, I asked Uncle Lawrence if we could borrow his boat to go fishing and surprised Kerry with an exuberant “guess what, I found us a boat for this weekend”! My next sentence was, “YOU DO KNOW HOW TO RUN A BOAT DON’T YOU”? Offended I even asked, he scoffed and retorted, “what’s to running a boat there’s two ******** levers”! OK, good I thought, he knows how to run a boat! I don’t swim, don’t like water, know nothing about boating, but DO love to fish! Still though, I didn’t know if I really believed him, but between him and Kelly I decided they must. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">So we drove all the way to Lake Sacagawea, found a camping spot, launched the boat in the water, and got ready to hit the high seas! Lori was pregnant with Brook. She and I were stuffed in our life jackets, all padded up like a couple of blimps as we climbed in. Cormorants were circling around the water and I made a joke that buzzards were already waiting for us! I still had this leery feeling about Kerry running the boat, but didn’t dare say that. All four of us are in the boat now, Kerry at the wheel. Kerry turned the key and but it doesn’t start. I looked at Lori like great, here we sit bobbing in the water like stuffed sausages. An old timer with a beer in his hand, hollers from shore, “YOU GOT THE BATTERY HOOKED UP?” Kerry relays to Kelly, “is the battery hooked up?” Kelly climbs to the back of the boat and hooks up the battery. Kerry turned the key again. Urr urr urr…still not starting. The old timer from shore yells, “YOU GOT THE GAS LINE TURNED ON??!!” Kerry again relays to Kelly, “is our gas turned on?” Kelly, already in the back, checks, and nope... so he turns the gas on! Finally it starts! By then, I’m </span><span style="font-kerning: none; text-decoration: underline;"><i>really</i></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> convinced Kerry does not know what he’s doing, but scared or not, we are going to catch a fish in that boat! We slowly turned around in the boat and faced the water, Kerry in the drivers seat, and the rest of us fatties in back. Kerry put it in gear, and it was purring like a kitten... but a tiny weak kitten. All you could see was sky, cuz the boat just didn’t seem to have the power to get us level on the water.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Finally the nose or bow or whatever you call the front of the boat, comes down, and we are barely puttering out to sea. The waves are choppy and rough, and Kerry is going against them. Banging up and down in the boat, Lori looks at me signaling that she doesn’t know about this rough ride, being pregnant and all. And I was literally praying to myself by now that we get back in, as the shore looked further and further away. After we get out there a long ways, all of a sudden we are stopped. Mud is churning in the propeller. We are STUCK in the middle of the river! Kerry yells, “GOD*****, we are stuck on a sand bar, You guys come up front”. So we waddle like obedient penquins to the front, pregnant, fat and stuffed in a life jackets. He tells Kelly to get on the nose of the boat to lighten the weight in the back, and he pushes us off the sand bar with an oar!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Now I’m mad! I crabbed at Kerry, “I KNEW YOU DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO RUN THIS THING!” “ TAKE US GIRLS BACK TO SHORE UNTIL YOU FIGURE IT OUT! So we putt, putt, putted back, with Kerry complaining about how they could possibly water ski with this thing. Once back, Lori and I got out, and started stomping up to the bus, ready to park our butts safely in our camp chairs in the shade of the bus until and if, they figure it out. The old guy that was yelling out how to start the boat earlier, met us half way. He said, "what is going on"? I said to him, “there’s something wrong with the boat he can’t get any speed out of it”. He says and I quote, “WHATS WRONG WITH IT, IS THE DUMB SONOFABITCH THATS TRYING TO RUN IT!” He's on a mission now to show those twenty something year olds how run a boat! Beer in hand, he strides down to the boat and climbs in with Kerry and Kelly. In what seemed like one seamless step he takes over the drivers seat and they roar backwards so fast, they take in water in the boat! He spins the boat around and they roar out into the horizon, Kerry and Kelly's plaid flannel shirts disappearing in the distance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Pretty soon they appear again, just skimming and skipping along the lake at high speed. Gloating about how I knew all along Kerry didn't know anything about a boat, I am happy to be safely back in my chair, and Lori is assessing if everything is alright with her pregnancy. We didn’t know if we should laugh, or be worried for the guys with this drunk "older skipper", lets just call him, in the drivers seat! Kelly later told about the guy saying to him as they are cruising along, “pull the plug” (in the bottom of the boat to get rid of the water that came in), and he didn’t know if he should do it or not but… he did, and the water got sucked right back into the lake! That old guy definitely knew what he was doing! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">They came back after about thirty minutes and the guys came up to the bus loaded with some laughs, and still on an adrenaline high from that crazy ride! Kerry was explaining about some levers that had four speeds or something that he’d never seen. They were cackling now, about the guy telling Kelly to "pull...the...plug" and Kelly looking at Kerry with eyes as big as saucers, silently asking should I? We had lunch and went back out later and the water was calmer and we had fun. Now that Kerry knew how to go fast, fast it was. He was trolling so fast our bottom walkers were skimming along on top of the water, so we kind of decided that boating really isn’t Kerrys long suit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Kerry and I eventually got our own boat but he never has had much patience with a bunch of people casting all around him and baiting hooks and keeping peoples lines out of the propeller! And I decided long ago I would rather wade out in the water put my chair down, feet in the water and peacefully fish from shore, than listen to him be crabby and complain about the cost of the gas. The boat story has been told and retold over the years at Kerry’s expense in our family, and it was funnier in hindsight than at the time thats for sure! </span></div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-2527644941996858552019-12-17T19:51:00.002-07:002019-12-18T13:02:41.428-07:00Christmas Caramels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Spray the silicone candy molds with vegetable oil or if you don’t use molds - butter two 9x13 pans, and line with parchment paper and butter that too. You wanna be ready to pour the caramel . Caramel recipe makes about 94 carmels. After spraying the molds add some nuts to some of them or put some nuts on top of the buttered parchment in one of the pans. Leave the other one just buttered. In a HEAVY big pot ( I use my 12 qt because it's a heavy one, but half that size would be fine if you have a heavy one) mix: </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> Stir constantly while bringing mixture to a boil, to dissolve the sugar. Once the mixture comes to a boil put on low, med heat (3 or 4 on my stove). Stop stirring, and put a candy thermometer on the pot, or use an instant thermometer. Takes about 25 minutes to reach 250 degrees, here in AZ but watch closely (times vary), and stir occasionally just so the bottom doesn’t burn. Once the mixture gets to 250 degrees remove from heat and add: </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Stir well, and I pour the caramel in a gravy boat to be able to do a neat job pouring the caramel into the molds. I leave some plain, some with the nuts and sprinkle some coarse kosher salt on the tops of some for salted carmels. Let them sit at room temp several hours. Turn out of molds or cut in pieces. Find yourself a good Christmas movie, grab a pair of gloves and wrap, wrap, wrap in twist wrappers (they sell these on Amazon these days, 3.5x5). These make nice gifts. </span></div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-26844466779133266262019-08-28T10:45:00.000-07:002019-08-28T11:20:47.862-07:00A Friendship...Deleted<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Have you ever had a friendship you thought would never, ever end but it did? Instant death too, I’m talking about. Not the typical, “we drifted apart when she had children and I didn’t”. Not, “I moved” or “she moved”… nothing like that. I had a twenty year friendship that ended that way, twenty something years ago. She disappeared out of my life, and it’s a cold case file. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of the blue, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>she just wouldn’t come to the phone, wouldn’t call me back, wouldn’t answer my cards and letters I sent asking, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and finally begging, her to tell me <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">what was wrong</i>? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I have no enemies that I know of. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, I have people who don’t like me for whatever reason, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t stay mad long, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and I try and work out disagreements that inevitably happen between people. If you absolutely can't work with someone you just have to let it go, because some people just like to bitch and fight. That's not me. When they can’t be worked out, I can easily “agree to disagree” and respect their side of what you don’t see eye to eye on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Oh I am "set in my ways" like Mom would say and </span>I choose to keep my own opinion without winning them over. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me to be cut off from someone, so important to my everyday life, was much like a divorce, although maybe those of you who’ve had one of those, are thinking and rightfully so, “ya right”! But it really was like a stranger than life case you see on TV. You know where the person goes missing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone you’d least expect to do that. They never get in contact with you. There’s no ending, no answers and no justice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I grieved the loss of her like a divorce or death. I ask her family, my family, our mutual friends what should I do to fix what I didn’t know was broken? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I must have done something horrendous, but what, I ask myself?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why don’t I get a chance to at least defend what I did… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">if I did</i> something, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">said</i> something, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">didn’t do</i> something, or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">should have</i> done something! Whatever it was I blamed myself, I obviously did something! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I comforted <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>her after she lost a baby, she comforted me when I had a miscarriage, we shared all our sons t-ball games, baseball games, proms, school programs, girls nights out, birthday parties. One of the nicest cards I’d ever gotten in my life I got from this her, with a whole page written about how much she depended on my friendship. I just threw it away, last time I was in Minot. It took me that many years to part with it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I went through all the stages of grief, and then anger. Anger, that she would do this to my kids too. Make them question what friends are, and drop out of their lives. I’d move forward in grief and then fall back to feeling sorry for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Self-remorse, self-hatred that was always my mantra for everything wrong in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whatever I must have done or said haunted me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you are going through grief for any kind of loss, the stages of grief are:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">1-Denial-"this can't be happening to me", not accepting or even acknowledging the loss</b>. (I rationalized something must be going on with her husband, he never did like me, the fat friend.) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2-Anger-"why me?" or feelings of wanting to fight back, or get even with spouse of divorce, for death, anger at the deceased, blaming them. </span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">3-Bargaining-bargaining often takes place before the loss if it’s one you’re expecting, but can happen after the loss as well. Attempting to make deals with God to stop or change the loss. Begging, wishing, praying for them to stay come back. </span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">4-Depression -overwhelming feelings of hopelessness, frustration, bitterness, self-pity, mourning loss of person as well as the hopes, dreams.</span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>5-Acceptance - there is a difference between resignation and acceptance. You have to accept the loss, not just try to bear it quietly. Realization that the person is gone.</span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I finally chalked it up to insanity. I reviewed everything I tried to do. I contacted her probably six times. I decided, I did all I can do. I finally cut the string and let the hot air she’d filled me with float away. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned my goal toward my own personal growth. Not going to say I don’t have a scar there on my tree trunk because I do, but I’m ok with it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></u></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Strange thing is this friend had a history of not talking to her family members for years at a time, but I never thought she’d do that to me<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">! Isn’t that bizarre in hindsight that I didn’t think she’d do it to me? </i>Don’t you have to do something? She has a sister she hasn’t spoken to for years. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe you are thinking, what<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> was I thinking, being friends with her in the first place? But she was a well-liked, respected person and has a lot of people duped into thinking she is sincere. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">She would leave comments under my face book comments, because we know a lot of the same people. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I blocked her so I don’t even see her name. Then she contacted my kids to be Facebook friends. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feels a little like having some screws turned into you, one crank at a time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I have never let myself that close to any girlfriend again, nor do I want to. And I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing but I prefer my sisters and my kids company. </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Actually that was kind of the end of girlfriends for me.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> I’m the jilted lover that stayed single ha. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have some friends, but I keep myself an arm’s length away. </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I feel somewhat unchristian like saying I don’t want her back in my comfort zone, but I don’t. I don’t want an apology, I don’t want to see her name and I don’t want to hear about her. For years I was asked about her every time I ran into people.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">If I unexpectedly bump into her sometime, I have no idea how I’ll feel or act. Like I said I like everyone… so it’s new territory for me not to just be friendly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">After twenty years it is not as painful as it once was. I used to want an explanation, then an apology and even though I feel she owes me that… I don’t want it now. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have higher standards for myself these days! I have been schooled for 17 seasons of Dr. Phil and listened he said, “when someone shows you what they are the first time, believe it”! I tell my kids that all the time. I am taking the advice I’d give my kids if they were in this situation, which would be “stay away, you don’t need to be brought down by mean girls. I don’t either. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia";">There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go. ~Author Unknown</span><br />
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-89109600557991947962019-08-26T22:57:00.000-07:002019-08-28T10:11:42.914-07:00Empty Success I had a great young life on the farm in ND. We grew up with lots of cats, a couple of collie dogs, and rode all kinds of horses. We were grain farmers and had horses on the PMU line, which was collecting pregnant mares urine for hormone pills. The first horses we learned to ride were a big black Belgian team, and their names were Tiny and Tony. They were gentle giants. Eventually they got sold (we were used to horses coming and going because our Dad was in the horse trading business). Then we each (Kathy and I) had Shetland ponies and they were sweet but they had their tricks to get us off and they used them! When people brought their horses and left them to get bred, heck, we rode them too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sisters and I (on Clarke)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cowboy Clarke</td></tr>
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One of the happiest days of my life though, was when I got Cowboy Clarke. He was a registered Quarter Horse gelding. Even his name was cool. Like I said, we grew up riding and horses came and went, but this horse was one in a million. Dad came to the house and told me to come to the barn. Sensing he had something he was excited about, it had to be good! I ran to the barn! Dad said, "you know who that is don't you'? Puzzled, I said, "No". He said, "Jim Zimmerman's horse Cowboy Clarke"! Now I knew! Jim used to compete with him, was older than me, and had quit horseshows. Ray his Dad, and my Dad, were friends. Dad said, he was trading Ray one of the 2 year olds we had just bought in South Dakota (Prissy Toad) and some breeding fees for Clarke "IF YOU CAN HANDLE HIM"! He said exactly, " we will take him to the fair in a few days and if you can handle him he's yours"! A few days later, I was entered in the barrel racing and pole bending at the North Dakota State fair. He circled the judges timing steak and we broke the pattern in the barrels but I got 5th ( a pink ribbon) in the pole bending and I managed to stop him, so I guess that was good enough. I was eleven years old. I had my dream horse and my new best friend.<br />
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I practiced with him at the farm the rest of that summer. The following year we hit all the horse shows in the Northwest Saddle Club Association circuit, which meant we traveled with a horse for Dad to show in Halter Classes, (and most of the time he got beat by the horse he traded the Zimmermans for my horse), my Cowboy Clarke and Sonny's Sharp Lady. I competed in the Jr. Division and Sonny in the Sr division. Dad would go over to the building where you paid entry fees to enter, and come back with me entered in a bunch of events I'd never even tried before! Like the Keyhole, the Ring Race, the Rescue Race, Barrels, Poles, Shoe Scrambles and anything else he thought I could do. I only wanted to do what I'd practiced, but he was the boss and I wanted to please him!<br />
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I had a successful year though, and so did Sonny for that matter I think he was second runner up in the senior division. That fall, after horse show season was over, Dad was testing mares for pregnancy. One mare that was new, reared back and came forward- pining him against the manger in the stall. He died three weeks later from a lacerated liver that gangrene took over in. That was October 16, 1967. To say that it was a rough few years is an understatement. Mom, Kathy and I lived on the farm alone with 75 or so horses to care for. Sonny came over from where he lived, but there were times the roads were blown shut. ND in the winter, in the middle of the prairie, isn't for sissies.<br />
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The next May, the next horse show season was ready to start, but there was an awards ceremony for the 1967 season first in Kenmare. Sonny and I went alone. I got a huge trophy and a silver belt buckle for All Around Jr. Horsemanship, for having the most accumulated points! I also got first in barrels racing and pole bending! Driving home on the gravel road, I remember watching the grass wiz by on the side of the road, a firm grasp on my awards, knowing Dad would be proud, but feeling so empty and sad. Sonny was a quiet guy, and we didn't talk about feelings. None of us did. We just had empty, loud moments like this one, that screamed Dad really is dead....gone forever, not coming back. Another cold winter night after chores, we sat down at the table to have soup, Mom, Kathy and I. It was dark out and for some reason we all looked up at the door at the same time and could read each others minds. There was no Daddy coming in for supper and we all cried. But, we didn't talk, we ate our soup in silence, cleaned off the table and went to bed. That horse's neck was where I cried out my grief, shared my thoughts out loud and felt closest to my Dad. I took over his saddle and rode in it the from then on. I still have it in my bedroom. I picture him with his little short legs on his horse lots of times.<br />
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I kept on riding in horse shows, until I was sixteen or so and Sonny lost interest. He had his own little girls and family. By then Kathy was riding in horse shows too. Mom drove us to our last horse show in Powers Lake, ND, with our two horses in a stock rack in the back of our Chevy pickup. It got dark before they got to the barrel racing and my horse couldn't see the first barrel and either could I ( I needed glasses ) until it was too late. We flew through the fence, people scattering, sparks flying! Neither the horse or I got hurt but I ripped my pants from waist band to waist band and that was bad enough! To top it off we had a flat tire on the way home and had to unload the horses, and stand in the ditch with them, while some good samaritan helped Mom change it. Mom cried and said, "I can't do this anymore, we have to stop the horse shows". And we did. I still rode in Blaisdell or somewhere close to home. <br />
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I had some great friends through, those horse show days. Cheri Albertson and I wrote letters on off weeks and waited to see each other at all the horse shows. Sometimes she'd beat me, sometimes I'd beat her, but we didn't care. We ate dust all day and cold watermelon from somebody's cooler between events. Nobody drank alcohol, it was just a lot of family fun. We had chokecherry fights with the Vesey boys and the Nelson brothers. It was a great way to grow up.<br />
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I don't want to be all mellow dramatic, but I write these mostly for my kids, and Easton and I found the article in a treasure box last night, It had yellowed and was pretty frail so I decided to scan it and write about this important time in my life. My horse was the center of life for me, and some of my best/saddest days of my life happened at the same time.<br />
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When Clarke was about 20 years old, and I had kids of my own, I sold him to a young girl about 13 years old who wanted to take him to horse shows and learn to ride. I remembered how i felt getting him and he was not getting the love and attention anymore from me, I lived 60 miles away. He had a good "old life" with her and she loved him like i did. Here's to Cowboy Clarke, best friend for life.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brendon digging my saddle out of the rafters for me to restore.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">before restoration</td></tr>
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<br />Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-83821931971859110912019-05-08T18:25:00.004-07:002019-05-08T18:44:48.199-07:00It Isn't Going To Be Easy<div style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">What does long marriage look like at the end of your life? Is it a movie version? You know, a male and a female hobbling along, hand in hand, stopping for a lil peck, and then gingerly sitting down a park bench, he holding the umbrella over her and watching the sunset? Or in reality is it more like watching all star wrestlering? They share a ring, one in each corner venturing out to exchange some harsh words (hopefully no punches), but then retreat and get patched up for the next one! For me, the scene around here is somewhere in between those two with some moments of each. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I am a type A and move at a “hurry up, lets go pace”. Kerry is notorious around here for sitting at the table, until all of us are loaded in the car before he comes out last, and in the eleventh hour, pops the hood on the car to check the oil! My hair is starting to fry just thinking about it! Finally were off, almost late now. Once we get to our destination, I hop out and try to lock the doors, just as his first foot is landing on the pavement to get out. I used to stand and wait at the front of the car feeling bugged and not hiding that fact either. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Kerry on the other hand is not exactly laid back, either. He likes to control little things, like if the little lock in the center of the door knob. In his world that little knob should be pointing to 12 o'clock, so you can see from a distance that the door is locked, without having to walk over to check. Also, all two way switches have to be in the proper off/on position. My thoughts on that are pretty simple. I don’t have time for that bs. If the door is locked that's good enough, I have bigger fish to fry. In a nut shell, we are both control freaks can you tell? </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, what works for us here is we run parallel most of the time. He stays in his lane, and me in mine. If he wants those switches, he can make that happen. Same story, with the door lock. The oil thing has become a thing of the past, thank you God, because our car is newer and is fine from oil change to oil change these days. When we get to a restaurant, I still hop out, and his foot still is hitting the pavement but I leave him to lock it and I march in and get a table and he comes at his own pace, that way I’m not bugging him by standing there, hair obviously on fire, and he can take his time. I more than likely have a drink by the time he comes in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So we are somewhat like both of the opening scenarios- we enjoy watching the kids in the backyard, talking about them, the day, the upcoming week. Talk about what a nice job Ramon did etc. Then again we might snap each others heads off, faster then eating a crawfish and then retreat like the wrestlers, only to come back in a half hour like it never happened. Never mentioned again. By now we know nobody is going to do any major changing so might as well save your breath. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">The real security of our long marriage is, he knows I will bring him coffee every morning while he’s still in bed and I know if I am sick he will cover for me. By that I mean we can count on each other. Is it perfect? No. But I hope in the end our kids will see that it takes compromise, commitment and basically a determination that we ARE staying together because if we don’t one of us would be missing this precious time with the kids and grandkids and that’s the currency that’s important to both of us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">There are ways around being very different people. Who knows the real person when you are 18 and 20? It's all about chemistry then, and we all change with life. One of my favorite things about Kerry is he has always allowed me to be me, and do what I want. And I am forever grateful he went to work on the railroad with its horrendous hours and we farmed besides, while I was Mom first, and did lots of other jobs that only ‘fit with being home with the kids. I believe that’s why we have adults that we are proud of today, because we invested more time than money in them and they know they are our number one priority. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, I encourage you not to compare your long marriage with anyone else’s. No two people are the same. If you look up “perfect long marriages” on google, you won’t see Kerry and Pam Picek that’s for sure! But there are lots of ways to love and support each other but I hope the kids will think of us sliding into home plate one day together, dirty, bruised, broke a few rules, but hey ...we made like we promised we would in 1973. (Now watch… divorce papers filed next week ha…then I’ll have a new topic won’t I?) </span></div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-34815106268504222582017-11-12T17:15:00.003-07:002022-11-07T19:47:41.208-07:00Pam's Norwegian Lefse <div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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I grew up making lefse. I had a Norwegian father and a German Mother. My German mother was always on a quest to find the perfect lefse recipe so every year she kept trying a different one which led to a lot of failures. But she kept going till she got it right for my Dad. She used to rice the potatoes which is a big tiring messy job. She and I made lefse for all my married life, together. Since she passed away, I have been making mine the same way and trying to perfect it. Some people think the thinner the better but I like mine a little moister and thats the way my family likes it so this is my own recipe from all our failures. </div>
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Ingredients:</div>
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10 lbs russet potatoes</div>
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1/2 cup of salted butter </div>
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1 cup cream (more or less)</div>
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2 tbsp sugar</div>
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2 teas salt </div>
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5 cups of flour + more to roll out.... <b>used the next day! </b></div>
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I start my lefse by cooking ten pounds of potatoes, in salted water in the crockpot overnight on low two nights before I plan to make lefse. In the morning I mash the potatoes with my stand mixer in two batches using the above ingredients( so half of everything) They should be a little saltier that you would do your mashed potatoes. Then I dump the batches together in a big bowl and chill the mashed potatoes in the refrigerator that day and that next night.</div>
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On lefse day, plug in your grill and turn it to high to heat. Lay out towels to cool the lefse on after cooking them. I cover my round lefse board with either the cover or a flour sack dishtowel, masking taped tight to the board on the backside. I know fancy! Then I measure 6 cups of chilled potatoes into the mixer bowl and add 2.5 cups of flour and mix together, just until mixed. See how it feels, it cant be real sticky but a little sticky is ok cuz you are going to use more flour when you roll. Then using a 1/4 measuring cup I make balls of dough and put them on a plate covered with a towel so as not to dry out. To roll out, I flour my rolling pin with all the little crevices ( I do this after almost every one I bake). Then I flour the towel or cover on the lefse board and kind or work it into the material. Next I plop a ball on the center of my rolling board and sprinkle it with little flour on top and bottom. Roll it out the thickness of a tortilla and as round as you can, about the size of a plate. Don't use any more flour than you have to as it makes it dry and tough. </div>
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Bake until it has nice brown spots on it then and flip over to bake the other side. cool on a towel for a few min and then fold it up in quarters and move it to another set of towels you are cooling them in. This recipe makes about 30 rounds. After completely cooled place in a baggie and refrigerate (they dont last long in the refrigerator before they mold so I freeze in quart baggies. Share with friends and family, which is the most fun part. It's a lot of work but quite the tradition in my life with my mother, kids and now with my grown kids. </div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-52293933746315154992017-10-06T21:13:00.000-07:002017-10-06T22:06:47.378-07:00Pam's Chicken Tortilla Soup<br />
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3 Large chicken breasts<br />
1 ldg can of diced tomatoes<br />
1 can whole kernel corn (2 if you really like thicker soup)<br />
3 cans of black beans or one large and one small<br />
3 cloves of garlic<br />
1 large bunch of chopped cilantro<br />
I large onion<br />
2 Tbsp chicken soup flavoring ( I like the Better Than Boullion brand)<br />
1 can of green chilis<br />
48 oz chicken broth<br />
2 cans of fiesta nacho cheese soup<br />
1 large can of mild red enchilada sauce<br />
1 Teas of pepper<br />
1 teas salt<br />
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I cook it in the crockpot on high about seven hours and then shred the chicken with a fork and put it back in the soup. Then I add, five or six american cheese slices before serving and a couple TBSP of butter.<br />
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I garnish mine with tortilla strips ( I buy them in a bag but you can make them with tortillas sliced and browned in a lil olive oil). Also for other garnishes you can add:<br />
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<span style="color: #3a3a3a; font-family: "montserrat" , sans-serif;">If you like it spicier, use rotel instead of diced tomatoes, and a hotter enchilada sauce, or even use some red pepper. </span></div>
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<br />Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-8835079999359958462017-08-08T13:57:00.002-07:002017-08-08T13:57:49.061-07:00Grandma Ethel's Homemade Tomato Soup<br />
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28 oz can of peeled whole plum tomatoes<br />
1/2 teas baking soda<br />
3 cups whole milk<br />
1/2 cup cream<br />
1/2 teas salt ( this is to your liking too)<br />
coarse black pepper to taste<br />
2 tbsp butter<br />
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Open the can of tomatoes and puree leaving large chunks or no chunks of tomato whatever your liking is. Pour the tomatoes into the saucepan and add the baking powder stirring to mix. This looks a little frothy, and helps the milk from not curdling from the acid in the tomatoes. Turn on med heat and add the milk, cream, salt and pepper. (remember that pepper sinks to the bottom so don't just keep adding). Heat TO boiling but don't boil. Remove from stove and add butter to top of the soup while hot. Serve with crackers or better yet a grilled cheese sandwich.<br />
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* When Kathy and I were teenagers and we'd go shopping with Mom in Minot we would stop at Speedway, a restaurant on the way home and Mom and I would have tomato soup and Kathy would have macaroni salad. Kathy likes tomato too these days.<br />
<br />Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-55245231362444885602017-08-06T17:31:00.000-07:002017-08-06T17:31:36.979-07:00Pam's Sour Cream Raisin Pie<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What’s your favorite pie? Pie came to America with the first English settlers. What kind of pie you grew up with depended largely on what are of the United States and where your ancestors came from. In the South pecan pies were popular with the many nut trees in the area. Pennsylvania Dutch made molasses “shoofly” pies. Settlers in Florida, utilizing the plentiful local citrus, turned native limes into key lime pie. The Midwest, famous for its dairy farms, favored custard and cream pies. Massachusetts invented the beloved Boston Cream Pie, a hybrid pie-cake. This colorful variety of pies reflects the diverse tapestry of early American culture. If one wanted to, one could tell the story of our nation through pie. (<a href="http://toriavey.com/history-kitchen/2011/07/the-history-of-pie-in-america-2/"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">http://toriavey.com/history-kitchen/2011/07/the-history-of-pie-in-america-2/</span></a>).</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My favorite pie has always been Sour Cream Raisin. Mom and I would buy a Sour Cream Raisin Pie at the bakery in Stanley and we would enjoy it for a week! Over the years my favorite thing to have at Schatz’s truck stop in Minot is Sour Cream Raisin pie. I have only made it a few times because guess who eats it all? Me. No one in my family thinks its as good as I do. I have messed around with the recipe and made notes until I think I have it like I like it, so I’m sharing it with you. I hope you like it. I’d love it if you have a favorite to say what it is and share the recipe!</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b> Pam’s Sour Cream Raisin Pie</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Ingredients</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b> Filling</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> 1 1/2 </b>cups dairy sour cream</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> <b>1/2</b> cup whipping cream</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> 1</b> cup sugar</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> pinch of salt</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> Couple shakes of nutmeg</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> 3 </b>tablespoons all-purpose flour</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> 3 </b>egg yolks</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> 1 1/3 </b>cup raisins (plumped)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b> Meringue</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> <b>4 </b>egg whites (notice:you need one more egg white than you need egg yolks)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> 1/2</b> teaspoon cream of tartar</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> 1/2</b> cup sugar</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> <b>1</b> teas vanilla</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> 1 </b></span><span style="font-kerning: none; text-decoration: underline;"><i>baked</i></span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> 9-inch pie shell</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> <b>1.5 </b>tbsp cinnamon and sugar mixture</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>Directions:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>1. Separate three eggs in bowls. Yokes in one, whites in one, add one more white to the bowl of whites making it four egg whites. Let them sit to become room temp. Next, pour boiling water to cover the 1 1/3 cups of raisins in a bowl and let that sit while preparing the filling mix.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"> 2. For the pie filling, in a heavy medium saucepan stir together the sour cream, the heavy cream, 1cup sugar, flour, the 3 egg YOLKS, and the <i>drained</i> raisins. Cook, <b>stirring constantly</b>, over medium heat until thickened and bubbly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>3. For meringue, place the egg whites in the mixer and beat till looks foamy. Then add the cream of tartar. Beat with an electric mixer on high speed until soft peaks form (tips curl). Gradually add 1/2 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time, beating on high speed about 4 minutes more or until mixture forms stiff glossy peaks (tips stand straight). Add vanilla(clear if you have it so meringue stays nice and white). Mix just enough to mix in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>4. Pour warm filling into baked pie shell. Spread meringue over filling. Bake in a 350 degree F oven for 15 minutes or until the meringue is lightly browned. Remove and sprinkle with cinnamon/sugar mixture. cool on a wire rack for 1 hour. Chill 3 to 6 hours before serving; cover for longer storage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>nutrition facts</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">(Old-Fashioned Sour Cream/Raisin Pie)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Servings Per Recipe 8, chol. (mg) 101, sat. fat (g) 9, vit. C (mg) 1, carb. (g) 87, Fat, total (g) 21, calcium (mg) 81, cal. (kcal) 545, pro. (g) 7, vit. A (IU) 486, iron (mg) 2, fiber (g) 1, sodium (mg) 125</span></div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-18752883996502018532017-08-02T12:19:00.002-07:002017-08-03T09:41:06.223-07:00Rock, Paper, Scissors<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFya6fM5sXx1KC_5csJvwl7sSpeyCr4rQDztUka0xpSINWoNV1w6QirN-lNnhFqcGv-m1ObneVdxcK7wGovWC9eEYRPESIIGLNFadDWToGqp9Q3f7JHizELFvVl2BmUiI0e-FjQiEXKYXh/s1600/IMG_0801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFya6fM5sXx1KC_5csJvwl7sSpeyCr4rQDztUka0xpSINWoNV1w6QirN-lNnhFqcGv-m1ObneVdxcK7wGovWC9eEYRPESIIGLNFadDWToGqp9Q3f7JHizELFvVl2BmUiI0e-FjQiEXKYXh/s320/IMG_0801.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> It’s the first day of school. For many, it brings up a whole cauldron of feelings all mixed together, bubbling away, with scary, sad thoughts permeating our wellbeing. I’m not talking about just the nervous kids either, but many parents as well. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> I remember standing in the dining room window, tears streaming down my face, watching Brendon walk to school with the Erickson kids like it was yesterday, back in Berthold, some 35 years ago now. I felt like I missed my last chance at something I couldn't get back, but couldn't put my finger on what. I told myself he’s ready and on to new great things, playing with friends etc… but without me (sniff). Ok stop Pam, that’s selfish! So I moved on to guilt. Guilt that I shouldn't have gotten mad at him as many times as I did. I should snuggled him more, and whatever else I could beat myself up about…To say I was overwrought was an understatement. </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s scary to think you aren't the only one now, that’s now going to be molding your child. You hope and pray other kids will be nice and include them. You're slapped in the face with the realization that they need you a little less with every passing year. For someone who sunk my whole identity into parenting, it was really rough. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KTyS3IadF50sIWaAuRV92p2hk3gCkEEVqO6Qk8wSAfNrkROiFLjWj0p3TSrX_6V4Jb04gvzPV1vMuNcsX7XQqad6E6BDcuHnUEh8D23apY6fX7R9JRScMS5FRqOfe4FUaemhuDxTKQrF/s1600/IMG_0812ab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KTyS3IadF50sIWaAuRV92p2hk3gCkEEVqO6Qk8wSAfNrkROiFLjWj0p3TSrX_6V4Jb04gvzPV1vMuNcsX7XQqad6E6BDcuHnUEh8D23apY6fX7R9JRScMS5FRqOfe4FUaemhuDxTKQrF/s1600/IMG_0812ab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KTyS3IadF50sIWaAuRV92p2hk3gCkEEVqO6Qk8wSAfNrkROiFLjWj0p3TSrX_6V4Jb04gvzPV1vMuNcsX7XQqad6E6BDcuHnUEh8D23apY6fX7R9JRScMS5FRqOfe4FUaemhuDxTKQrF/s1600/IMG_0812ab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KTyS3IadF50sIWaAuRV92p2hk3gCkEEVqO6Qk8wSAfNrkROiFLjWj0p3TSrX_6V4Jb04gvzPV1vMuNcsX7XQqad6E6BDcuHnUEh8D23apY6fX7R9JRScMS5FRqOfe4FUaemhuDxTKQrF/s1600/IMG_0812ab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1600" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KTyS3IadF50sIWaAuRV92p2hk3gCkEEVqO6Qk8wSAfNrkROiFLjWj0p3TSrX_6V4Jb04gvzPV1vMuNcsX7XQqad6E6BDcuHnUEh8D23apY6fX7R9JRScMS5FRqOfe4FUaemhuDxTKQrF/s320/IMG_0812ab.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I’m thinking today of my teacher daughter, Shelbey, driving her 2 month old, and her 2 year old, to day care - hoping the caretakers are trustworthy and responsible in spite of all the scary stories we hear these days. She knows nobody could love these kids like she does, and longs to stay home with them. To top it off, childcare is costing her 1700. a month. The thought of staying home with them is cut short when reality kicks in, because she knows she has to work to take care of them. She loves teaching music, so that helps her push past her sadness and look forward to the day the boys can go to school with her. She must put on a brave happy face, keep Briar fired up about playing with friends, say goodbye with a smile on her face, kiss Asher goodbye and forge on to school, breast pump in hand.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> For all the parents taking their first day of school pictures, this day puts last year, one more year further in the rear view mirror, and looking at their growth is bittersweet. In black and white we can see how fast they grow and change, and how fast the years are flying by! Looking forward to new teachers and new experiences but theres still a little fear of the unknown, mixed with the knowledge that life is now officially</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> on fast forward for one more year. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Some hind sight suggestions I have are: first of all, try not to over think it like I did. Always try to look at the positive, knowing that life is moving as God intended. Children were given to us to nuture and guide to adulthood. Stay positive and look to the positive. Secondly, make a plan to help out at school where you can and be involved. Your kids will remember you being involved and supportive of their teacher. Teachers need more support these days than ever. The key word there is support…if you are there to fault find, save it. Being a teacher is no easy task. Be helpful. On the other hand stand up for your child when you have to (they remember that too). Third, be sure you document the year. Just a week or so ago, Brendon, my son who trudged off to school 35 years ago, and his wife had the best time looking through all the stuff I kept and documented… cute stories, pictures and clippings. It takes time but it’s totally worth it. Even if its just an accordion pleated box, save some things and jot down some funny stories. Fourth, get ready to hear some new things about your child, as they are molded into school life. Like the old saying take it in, wheat and chaff together, and take what can make your child better and blow the chaff away. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> So lots of special prayers today for students, parents and teachers as they start a new year. Lets not forget the parents of special needs students too, who have so much to deal with as their child starts school. Hugs to all today!</span></span></div>
Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-30326598497869738582017-05-10T22:00:00.000-07:002017-05-11T09:13:45.950-07:00Happy Mother's Day!<div class="p1">
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<span class="s1">“The noblest calling in the world is that of mother. True motherhood is the most beautiful of all arts, the greatest of all professions. She who can paint a masterpiece or who can write a book that will influence millions deserves the plaudits and admiration of mankind; but she who rears successfully a family of healthy, beautiful sons and daughters whose immortal souls will be exerting an influence throughout the ages long after painting shall have faded, and books and statues shall have been destroyed, deserves the highest honor that man can give.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">– David O. McKay</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Mother’s Day. It brings so many thoughts of so many different times in my life. When Grandma Bruhn,(my Mom’s Mom) was alive yet my Mom would go to see her towards the end of the week, so she could spend Mothers Day with us. Grandma had seven children so she always had people around. Grandma didn't go out much and fun wasn't in her vocabulary that I remember, so Mom always brought something she'd probably buy herself anyway like groceries or something frugal. Then on the Sunday of Mothers Day, we would have a picnic or something with Mom and she would do most of the cooking ( something you don't think about till you are her age yourself). </span></div>
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<span class="s1">When my kids were small and we were still in North Dakota Mom would take them shopping to buy something for me. Brendon always picked out jewelry. When he was in third grade I watched him in the mall with his little friend. He was in Riddles, a fine jewelry store with his little friend in the same grade. Pretty soon he came out looking for me and I was sitting under the clock, visiting with a friend and keeping an eye on him, which he hadn’t realized. He excitedly ask me for a little bit of money to add to his, but what he wanted it for was top secret! I gave it to him and he ran off, and soon proudly came back with a package. He didn't give it to me, just smiled like a cat who swallowed a canary. I didn't ask what he had, because he looked like he’d love to tell me, with a little coaxing. On Mothers day, he proudly handed me a little spring loaded box, with a pair of black tiger eye posts. I still have them, and look at them often. They are special, but so is the vision of him in the jewelry store, that I cherish. Another of my favorite gifts from Brendon, is this little guardian angel pin and note Brendon left me, and he was probably a freshman in high school or there about. He bought me a stereo once with his busboy job when he was a sophomore in high school too which I could hardly accept but meant the world to me,</span><br />
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<span class="s1">Shelbey always wanted to go to Home of Economy and buy a piece of sparkling crystal under those special lights that could make a coke bottle look good! She always knew what she wanted, and Mom took her which was a special memory for them, to shop for me. My favorite gift from her was memory jar she made and had the other kids too put in memories. I’ll share one of them with you that she wrote. I just pulled a random one, and thought it was funny. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">When Sydney got a job as a teenager she bought me my first Brighton’s set of jewelry. She knew I loved it and only had a piece or two because as a parent you always have too many things the kids need to buy much for yourself and thats kind of something I gave up to stay home with the kids and do odd jobs over the years. I lived by the poem 100 Years From Now. It goes:</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>One Hundred Years From Now</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">One hundred years from now</span></div>
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<span class="s1">It won't matter</span></div>
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<span class="s1">What kind of car I drove</span></div>
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<span class="s1">What kind of house I lived in</span></div>
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<span class="s1">How much money I had in the bank</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Nor what my cloths looked like</span></div>
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<span class="s1">BUT</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The world may be a little better</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Because, I was important</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In the life of a child. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Therefore I took that literally and I drove and old car, and we didn't own any name brand clothes or any thing that cost much. Garage sales were my fun. When I opened that first gift from Sydney I had such mixed feelings of accepting something that was 100+ dollars from a teenager. Since then I have gotten so many pieces from her, and now she calls Kerry and says, “Dad I'm getting the necklace from me, and the earrings from Easton so you can get the bracelet”, and he does! Cha ching…score for me! My favorite gift from her is a little book she made me. Sydney keeps her feelings close to her heart, so for her to finish something like this book, was really special. </span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="s1"><br /></span></span><span class="s1">So many Mother’s Days have flown by! One day you’re a young Mom and the next your a Grandma it seems! I say to all the young Moms, enjoy every day as a Mother, at the stage you are in. As a Grandma, enjoy every day and remember how blessed we are to be here and in the kids lives. Some people never get there. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Thank you to my kids for sharing their lives with me on a daily basis. I know how blessed I am! I am forever grateful for the life God blessed me with, then and now, because life is a winding journey with many ups and downs and twists and turns! Enjoy them all! Happy Mothers Day!</span></div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-8970912868099006032016-12-08T15:36:00.001-07:002016-12-08T19:54:01.693-07:00Christmas B -I-N-G-O<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZRGr_oB2gExF47MrhmBBRjI5ab5-pKzN_g18WunfbgORCGidAA2h7MUnOlO-UfNCiUKlS7PCvRfJpMMc9H7NEli6yvJ4u-HL3skVP21t5WWRe2ar10Yc0tZpnwqqRghkPOUzYQ0g9lMj/s1600/IMG_3581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZRGr_oB2gExF47MrhmBBRjI5ab5-pKzN_g18WunfbgORCGidAA2h7MUnOlO-UfNCiUKlS7PCvRfJpMMc9H7NEli6yvJ4u-HL3skVP21t5WWRe2ar10Yc0tZpnwqqRghkPOUzYQ0g9lMj/s320/IMG_3581.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Two things I inherited from my Grandma Rose Bruhn. One was an old wooden bingo set, and the other, her trundle sewing machine. After some thought, I decided the sewing machine that faithfully sewed many, many quilts, really should be with the master quilter in our family, Patty Bruhn Hatvick. Horse trader by nature, when I gave it to her and she ask what she could give or do for me in return, I ask her to make some Easter placemats out of one of Mom's old square dance dresses, and some of her favorite clothes. Mom always wore pastels, so Easter was a perfect fit, and a perfect trade, and they're beautiful! Thank you Patty!<br />
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My bingo set was all complete, except one number that was written in in pencil, and in Grandmas neat small handwriting. We used that set to start playing bingo with the kids on Christmas day, way back when. With that old set, and using dry beans or cereal( that somehow disappeared as we went) for markers, you would put all the wooden coins in a cardboard shaker box, and shake out one at a time. I have really fond memories of the Moore kids playing game after game of bingo, around the table in Minot for little toy prizes, like hot wheels or other little dollar store goodies. All to soon, the kids grew up and our bingo days with them ended. We moved here to Phoenix, and after a few stints of Rock Band... we decided to dissolve the band, pack it up and go back to bingo. I got the idea, why don't I spend 100.00 on gift cards that would help alleviate some of the pain of spending after Christmas when they could use them most, and a new tradition began.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLu04J_Ob7WGDHtQa33_r7g0KrLtLIX6FzUB3NP3Dl2ZH4cOkgYqbLfSChL7vfNUX2M4wEWPtnIlrdtKsqKkaw_5zejD54VQKQueFazh8Tzf3e9BbqIwwKsWmKkzxnvvbvO4q4tbsK8UJ/s1600/IMG_3582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLu04J_Ob7WGDHtQa33_r7g0KrLtLIX6FzUB3NP3Dl2ZH4cOkgYqbLfSChL7vfNUX2M4wEWPtnIlrdtKsqKkaw_5zejD54VQKQueFazh8Tzf3e9BbqIwwKsWmKkzxnvvbvO4q4tbsK8UJ/s320/IMG_3582.JPG" width="240" /></a>Grandmas old bingo set with the cardboard shaker box, started getting pretty tattered and torn, so I was pretty ecstatic when I found a new set, complete with a metal roller cage at the Goodwill store, a few years back. I even bought some resin and a piece of wood and with a drill made little grooves in the resin for my called balls to sit in, and had a nice functioning, "high tech" bingo caller board!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP73-dhFI7l0OH5kEJzVNLutvk0-3-PU3GSahcNHQzduGs5xVCc9M7iJq3PX0fpKN8BoIIDIhJSmgT0KXXpvSPvNuho891wgC2gwRMIEfUZOSPe7DHBh0BYqQGxCQ2iVceMMyjQHXHn51T/s1600/378949_10150564701701208_1028171473_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP73-dhFI7l0OH5kEJzVNLutvk0-3-PU3GSahcNHQzduGs5xVCc9M7iJq3PX0fpKN8BoIIDIhJSmgT0KXXpvSPvNuho891wgC2gwRMIEfUZOSPe7DHBh0BYqQGxCQ2iVceMMyjQHXHn51T/s320/378949_10150564701701208_1028171473_n.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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Time marches on however, and guess what? Last year Brendon found an app that does the calling for me, so now we can put the phone in the center of the table and it calls and we play! Technology putting another human out of a job I guess, but I'm not chasing loose balls under the table every few rolls of the cage, so I'm good with it!<br />
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A lot of things have changed, but one thing that hasn't at our house is, gathering around the table to play bingo on Christmas Day. We still laugh and talk, shush each other, ask if B6 has been called for the third time, complain about sleepers, and get excited when we finally Bingo and get a turn to shuffle through the gift cards! It's fun to pick the one we need or want the most. For the grand finale we play for a 20.00 gift card. This is maybe to...a gas station, a grocery store, or somewhere everyone goes. Moral to this story - it's not always the big things we do, but the small, that make Christmas merry and bright.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSlRFAK6KbxddBInS96yWAi5FArLYe1M8cUf5U3PBBh-HAaLMYphskyYd_9HQMSLhoF4OcPR9-x7h4FP-cu0T8VUYHQ6842SukmpC8aEMo9TVSh1QqGkimeI_67-boUuuJ-c0-p8wS3s-/s1600/IMG_3588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSlRFAK6KbxddBInS96yWAi5FArLYe1M8cUf5U3PBBh-HAaLMYphskyYd_9HQMSLhoF4OcPR9-x7h4FP-cu0T8VUYHQ6842SukmpC8aEMo9TVSh1QqGkimeI_67-boUuuJ-c0-p8wS3s-/s320/IMG_3588.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-209550897051092482016-12-05T22:53:00.000-07:002016-12-06T17:11:32.967-07:00 Hooked On Hallmark<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Shelbey, Mom and I always participated in our annual day of after Christmas shopping when Shelbey was small. It was such a good way to unwind from the Christmas holiday, stock up on bulbs and lights for the next year, and haul home enough wrapping paper for the next three years ( we did that every year)! In 1987 I bought my first Hallmark ornament, the little chimney sweep. I always thought Hallmark ornaments were cute but wow, $9.00 or so, was a crazy price for me back then when I had so many gifts to buy. Half price after Christmas however, was just enough to tip the scales to buy it. That was the beginning…the next year instead of one I bought two etc. There were two shops in the same mall that sold Hallmark ornaments. I decided we'd be more effient in our hunt if I sent Shelbey in one shop and I’d go to the other. I instructed her to just pick out the ones that you like, and then when I get back we’ll decide on what to buy so we didn't buy doubles. I’d buy mine and hurry down to the other shop to find her usually empty handed or with one maybe, clutched in her fist shoved back against the wall, by more aggressive shoppers. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Fast forward a few years, and now Sydney was joining our after Christmas shopping and I’d send the girls to the one store and I’d go to the other. THEN when I came back it was a different scene! Sydney has as many as she could hold, diving in and out of shoppers, and trying to convince Shelbey to do the same. That’s the difference between my daughters in a nut shell still today. Both have qualities I love, but they are very different. We continued to buy half price ornaments for many years and I have quite a collection now. I never collected for value, or in series, or to make money, or any of that, it was all for love of what I wanted on my tree personally. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">These days I buy only a couple usually before Christmas with a coupon and sometimes for gifts for the kids. Easton had a ball today looking at all the different ornaments from over the years and I had a ball sharing them with him. Let me share some pictures of my favorites. You know the ones on the <i>front</i> of the tree every year. Do you do that? Put your least favorite on the back? Anyway, thats my Hallmark addiction. </span></div>
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My first one, Chimney Sweep 1987</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyf-ichX1km2uhckHLJolMB2todRENvM2RIWBNLR_RkLIYgy3_f7ndIHMhW0D8k10rkNniSPv44Sz_D90g42_2Vzx2mCMBADhcoK7mhor_JdDy9JwcoetOGNQuj_vANAaBW8CKUDjC9Kk4/s1600/IMG_3540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyf-ichX1km2uhckHLJolMB2todRENvM2RIWBNLR_RkLIYgy3_f7ndIHMhW0D8k10rkNniSPv44Sz_D90g42_2Vzx2mCMBADhcoK7mhor_JdDy9JwcoetOGNQuj_vANAaBW8CKUDjC9Kk4/s320/IMG_3540.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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My Mom one...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBDllddSNWAbpwBCUbdcPsj8v7n4VSAO2T7faOhEeH5e4JQAmysDzE5W4-2obIsAOPSFw40r7oo4o7jepbP6SpNvLGxM-8S0gxnenpURXGoHslR6ACq5F43FxjQVfpVWjXkJ_dd3rMBA4_/s1600/IMG_3541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBDllddSNWAbpwBCUbdcPsj8v7n4VSAO2T7faOhEeH5e4JQAmysDzE5W4-2obIsAOPSFw40r7oo4o7jepbP6SpNvLGxM-8S0gxnenpURXGoHslR6ACq5F43FxjQVfpVWjXkJ_dd3rMBA4_/s320/IMG_3541.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Easton's favorite, he plays the drums </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGNMu92l-4E3iwhcWI03oUEKprLv8KkNL8dxEOWtQnwf7zOQPQd8oVIKF5IuoG_ciC7yQ5MWs361-BMU8_E4wHe3ptKoczoa5nQ09LW32QKHzO6-kz8VWs-9Ki-JkMRMxVNTr1MeDRalpJ/s1600/IMG_3542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGNMu92l-4E3iwhcWI03oUEKprLv8KkNL8dxEOWtQnwf7zOQPQd8oVIKF5IuoG_ciC7yQ5MWs361-BMU8_E4wHe3ptKoczoa5nQ09LW32QKHzO6-kz8VWs-9Ki-JkMRMxVNTr1MeDRalpJ/s320/IMG_3542.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Briars favorite, plays<br />
Holiday Road.<br />
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Another favorite</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrE5937nUrxrhNhtbzIqZEU70jScFyBE-0INj31ICt6i6ToBXkl-lN8sQmPpoDPwk7V4Scek154LQ806ZcxQVHIUUtLrPCI_PDlEHh654RGSU_GrS3iSC0u9UfoYBxfR6Y1GHJc_22BmNR/s1600/IMG_3543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrE5937nUrxrhNhtbzIqZEU70jScFyBE-0INj31ICt6i6ToBXkl-lN8sQmPpoDPwk7V4Scek154LQ806ZcxQVHIUUtLrPCI_PDlEHh654RGSU_GrS3iSC0u9UfoYBxfR6Y1GHJc_22BmNR/s320/IMG_3543.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cute little tea drinkers</div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-52935304259160440862016-10-26T20:35:00.000-07:002016-10-27T10:29:06.143-07:00Talk To The Hand<div style="color: #101010; font-family: helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"> </span><i>You two have been in a relationship seven years…when are you getting married? </i></span><i><attachment webkitattachmentpath="/Users/pam/Desktop/1498952_10152119435551208_531182897_o.jpg"></attachment><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">When are you having children? The older you are the harder it is you know. </span></i><i>I wish you wouldn't eat that! </i></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-style: italic; white-space: pre;"> </span>Have you been ask questions like that, by over zealous, extroverted strangers, or worse yet, well meaning friends or family? Sometimes, some comment like that can send your day down the toliet in a mighty swirl! The worst part of this whole scenario is for me, the admission that I have been the rude, inappropriate dummy that ask some of those hurtful questions I’m sure. I’ll be the first to admit my boundaries aren't always good, and I think at the time I thought I was being helpful. I’m such an open book, that I’m sometimes surprised that others aren’t. I’m also a know it all by nature, and what the heck, I just embrace it at this point! To anyone reading this that I’ve offended let me take this opportunity to apologize if you were on the receiving end of one of my comments. </span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">A couple years ago, our family traveled to Hawaii. Easton had just started walking. Sydney was a young Mom, and I don’t know if that lead a woman to think she needed her unsolicited opinion or what her reason was to interject herself in her business, but let me tell you a quick story. We got to the airport at 430 am. There was a long winding line while waiting to check our bags. Easton was wide awake and had ridden over in the car seat if course, and now he’s was in a stroller and wanting to get out. Feeling sorry for him she let him out and let him run, and she followed him around, while the rest of us inched her bags closer to the scales. Finally all 9 of us were checked in, and ready to make our way to the elevators, and on up to the gates. Sydney still had the stroller with a carseat strapped in it, her carry one and his carry on. That meant he HAD to get in the stroller and be pushed! Of course like most toddlers, he put up a fight, and she tried to explain we are going up in the elevator to go up to the gates. About the time she’s buckling his little arched back in the straps, a grey haired lady approached and said, “Can’t you let him walk?” We all slowly turned our heads in disbelief that this strange woman, was interjecting her unwanted opinion, into this private moment in a public place! Sydney remained friendly but firm, and said something like, “no I have to much to carry until we get to the gate”. The woman stood by the stroller and made no effort to get on her way. Finally, the rest of gathered around Syd, and walked toward the elevator. Sydney was fuming, feeling hurt and defensive! She wanted to tell her to buzz off!</span><br />
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So what should we do when these things happen, as they do to all of us at some point I'm sure? I did a little research on it, and here are some things I found from Psych Central. First of all, put up an invisible shield. Don't let any bad energy penetrate you. Next politely advocate for yourself and leave, or remain silent and leave. Silence, sometimes can say more that words can. Wayne Dyer, has said, “How people treat you is their karma, how you react is yours.”</div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">On a lighter side, sometimes these strangers can go the other way and give you rave reviews and or a compliment, which affects our mood in reverse! “You sure don't look sixty”, or “l love your hair color”! Wow, </span><span style="font-kerning: none; text-decoration: underline;">now</span><span style="font-kerning: none;"> a comment like that by a stranger is validating, and can immediately lift your spirits! I give you permission to let that penetrate your heart! </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">So, I’m going to leave you with a twist on George Elliot’s quote about friendship. In this case be the friend to yourself. When someone pours out their thoughts about you, take the chaff and grain together, and with your gentle hands sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away!” If you aren't kind to yourself who will be? </span></div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-36609753146972575822016-06-18T14:01:00.002-07:002016-06-18T14:34:06.139-07:00The Great Walmart Caper<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It stared like this; </span></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I drove us up to the garden center door of Walmart in Minot, North Dakota, to run in and get a quick item. Marcy and I both went in to choose the item, and left Mom in the car. It was mid Sept, so not hot or cold out, and back then any crime was unheard of. Mom stayed in the backseat while we hurried and got what we needed and Marcy decided to go to the front of the store to use the bathroom, and I took what we bought to the car. After sitting in the car for a minute, chatting to Mom, I spotted my pictures I was meant to copy on the dash. The picture machine was at the front of the store, right by the bathrooms. I said to Mom, we’ll just pull up to that door in the front row and Marcy can come out and sit with you when she's done in the bathroom and I’ll copy the pictures on the machine. So we pulled up to the first row, and I went in the store ( I could see Mom from the machine if I looked out). I started copying pictures and soon after Marcy came out of the bathroom. I ask her if she had the coupon we'd clipped for these prints and she said, “No it’s in the car”, and then offered to go get it and check on Mom at the same time. I kept printing away because now I had an impatient customer behind me and I had a lot of them to print. Seemed like Marcy was gone forever, I remember thinking more than once. All of a sudden from behind me I heard Marcy nearly yell my name! I turned around to see her standing in the doorway, on the Walmart door mat, with a frantic upset look on her face! She exclaimed in a loud voice, “ </span><i style="font-family: times, 'times new roman', serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Either I’ve lost my mind or the car is gone</span></b></i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">”! She threw her arms out wide in exasperation! Laughing immediately, I walked away from my pictures on the machine (The person behind me nearly had smoke coming out her ears now) and to Marcy! Cackling like a hyena, I gave my puzzled, annoyed sister her a hug! Instantly, I knew I HAD FORGOTTEN TO TELL HER I MOVED THE CAR TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BUILDING! Between the cackling I spit out that I'd moved the car! She had been searching up and down rows of cars back by the garden center, with visions of carjackers, kidnappers, or Mom driving off and going who knows where! At first Marcy isn't joining in on this funny, funny episode! I was still laughing like a lunatic, and she was still acting like she been hit with a stun gun! No smile, no it's ok, nothing.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">After explaining our what could be a comedy act in my mind, to the not too receptive people around us, we left the store and the other patrons were pretty happy about that </span>I'm<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> sure! When we got to the car I had to tell Mom the hilarious story, and she kicked out in her broken way, “you shouldn't be laughing, you’re just lucky she has a strong heart”! </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">To this day I don't think Marcy finds it as funny as I do but, this is one of my favorite stories, and I’m so glad I was on the journal writing wagon, at the time and wrote it down. </span></span></div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-10084818453143905312016-04-25T13:50:00.002-07:002016-05-09T13:43:52.718-07:00Life Without Rules = Mass Chaos<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Do you believe the advice that many psychologists give to parents of unruly children when they say, “ children want and need rules and boundaries?” They say it makes them feel safe and secure to know what is expected and what is going on in their world. I am about to step out on a limb and say, we adults want and need the same thing! I think it’s a problem today, that we no longer know who’s role is what? Anything goes, and any behavior is supposed to not just to be tolerated, but accepted and promoted! Isn't it amazing that yet, instead of a better world, we are lost, frightened, and no longer believe in any higher authority? For me thats because, too many doctors have chosen to not care when we needed them the most, too many pastors have called our kids “little shits” and sexually done far worse than that, too many police have shot someone just because they had the power to do it, too many governing officials live large and corruptly while we pick up the tab, too many teachers have lost their professionalism and been cruel to our children, too many elderly have been slapped around in nursing homes!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I want the rules back! I want morales back! I want to feel safe and secure again. I want to have a doctor that you go to for years and when you wind up in the hospital they show up concerned, and try their best to get you well. I want to go to a church with a pastor that probably isn't having affairs with multiple women, like ours was here awhile back while talking lovingly about his wife on stage, and conducting marriage seminars advising others on marriage at the same time! I want to tell my kids to always mind the teachers, and in return to expect the teacher to be fair and professional to them. I want men and women to have roles again, and know what they are and step up and deliver. We have gone so far with gender equality that some men are quick to say, you work and I’ll stay home and many women are doing 90%. Don’t we need a right and wrong? Don't we need to know how to best live in an ordered society? How do we live in any order when there are no social rules, and only laws? In the quest to accept all, we have lost our way in many ways in my opinion. It’s no wonder children and adults alike are hiding in phones and video games! We can’t handle real life anymore… it’s so scary, even we adults can’t deal with it! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I liked society better when people really sacrificed to become professionals, because they put so much into becoming those professionals that they came out with great purpose. They set out in the world with a message something like, I care about you, and I want to serve my profession and mankind in a way that you see me as an authority in my chosen profession, and I'm someone who you can respect and rely on in that field. It seemed we could back then. I remember when I got into the social work program in Minot State years ago. There were about eleven of us in the program. I remember thinking that if I needed counseling (because I’d been though some by that time in my life), which of these people would I want to see, say I just dialed randomly from the phone book? ONE, one person who wasn't skipping class as much as possible, copying other peoples work, or just that seemed to be getting a piece of paper to earn a higher wage. That was the first time I remember being a little frightened, and understood why when looking for a mental health professional it's said to keep looking until you find one that you can click with if you fail to the first time. You have probably heard the saying, “children can never have too many positive role models in their lives”. I say adults need positive role models in their peers, and in their lives as well. It gives us a sense of hope, stability and direction. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What kind of world is this when we are talking about bathrooms to use? Whether Christian principles our country was founded on, have to be compromised? Common sense just seems to be gone! I don't know about you but I am overwhelmed. It could be my age I suppose, but mostly I am sad that all of our belief in society is so compromised. The political races are enough to make you lose all hope in humanity! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So what are the answers? What can we do? Personally, I tell my kids to follow the popular Bible study and, “put on the armor of God for you to live personally in your relationship with God. Stand on God’s word and be of that world first. Be people the world can depend on. Brendon, when you weigh the parcels for the plane tonight at work, do it well, so that that plane arrives safe and the pilot and all who depend on you, can know that you are the best aircraft loader you can be. Shelbey, be that professional teacher that doesn't have the two popular kids chose sides, while the unpopular are left unchosen day after day. When a kid in your class gets in trouble its because they chose to run through rule number one, two and three and now your parent is here and not because as the teacher you don't like them for some reason. Be the teacher they can believe in to be fair. Speaking of that, we were reminiscing one day about when Brendon was acting up in band in high school. The teacher said he was throwing keys and being disruptive, and he said she had it out for him. So I decided to go to band for a week. Every day I showed up and just sat in. He didn't want me there and the teacher didn't want me there either. That's all it took to resolve that. I was trying to show the teacher if I have to show up and babysit him I will, and I was trying to show Brendon that I'll come and see for myself what's going on. Needless to say they had never a problem again after that week. Sad thing is you can't even do that these days because of the schools fear of school shooters! Sydney, run that business as honestly as you can, so the owner knows he can count on you to be fair honest with his company. Show those you manage that you will work as hard as they do. That your customers know you will give them the best haircut and customer service you can! And as a mother and grandmother I need to live up to being the best influence I can be in these little peoples lives. My Mother impacted my children immensely, and I want to do that too, in my own way. I think if we all did our very best to be people of integrity, and purposely be the brightest star in our own world we can restore peoples faith in humanity one at a time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I never want to write negative blogs, but the idea that living with no boundaries is the way to go -just doesn't fly with me. <i>Rules are for the obedience of fools and the </i></span><i>guidance </i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><i>of wise men</i>-Douglas Bader</span></span></span></div>
Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-75006893715455163692016-04-25T11:43:00.002-07:002016-05-09T15:29:24.919-07:00My Celebrity Dinner PartyIf you had a celebrity dinner party for ten who would you invite? Hmmm....first of all I wouldn't, so this is total fantasy. So heres my list and I'd love to hear yours, and why.<br />
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1. Dr. Phil just because I admire straight shooters and maybe I'd learn something.<br />
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2. Kris Kardashian; I'd like to ask her some Mom questions.<br />
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3. Larry Fitzgerald; he seems like a really nice, genuine guy.<br />
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4. Celine Dion; I like her. She's kooky and real.<br />
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5. Oprah, I'd like to tell her how disappointed I am in her after loving her for years and believing she didn't see color and now is all about color.<br />
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6. Garth Brooks, he's seen highs and seen depression too. I'd like to talk to him about that.<br />
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7. Samantha Brown, I'd like to talk travel with her and get some tips.<br />
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8. Ryan Gosling, he can't possibly be so quirky and cute can he?<br />
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9. Gerry Dee, he's funny.<br />
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10. Shawn Hannity, he has interesting ideas.Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-68091989236839607192016-03-23T12:49:00.001-07:002016-04-25T11:44:44.873-07:00The Bucket List<div style="line-height: normal;">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Do you have a bucket list? Are you one of those people who says, I don’t think, I just live? Or, is it your style to live in your head make promises to yourself you will go on vacation “someday”? I think I am somewhere in between. Living with anxiety, I can think of all kinds of adventures that are the typical bucket list items a lot of people have on their list, that I would have to be shot with a tranquilizer gun ( and a big one at that), to attempt. Things like snorkeling, when I don't like the water that much or the thought of trying to shimmy my excess poundage into one of those wet suits almost as badly, is something to fear. I'll watch the fish through glass and I'm ok with that. Climb Machu Picchu? Nah, anything that involves climbing I left behind after about a year of life. A picture is worth 1000 steps in this case. Skydiving…jumping out of the plane… I could do that one, but I'm really worried about breaking something on the land. I value my limbs, hip sockets, knees …and you know what a gazelle that I am!</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I like to think I “live” a realistic bucket list, and kind of always did because my Dad </span>didn't<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> get to live long enough to experience that. So I carry on with a bucket list for my age, my ability, and what speaks to what I want to leave behind. Memories with my kids, and grandkids, time with Kerry even though we can drive each other nuts he’s my security blanket. I still have many things I want to do, such as:</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A. Spend more time in the Bible, learning about what's ahead and what really matters and why we are here in the first place. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>B. Go to Disney world with all the kids and grandkids, when the little kids are a little older. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>C. Go on more cruises. I’m still game after the engine blew on the last one, knocked out all the electricity and I lay there in the dark thinking about that floating piece of wood in the titanic movie…hmm, how big was that closet door again? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>D. Work on <a href="http://ancestry.com/"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">ancestry.com</span></a> and leave as much of an electronic footprint as I can for the coming generations. I wish someone would have jotted down some of what seemed silly info on my ancestors so I had a better feel of their personality. Like what did they like to do? Were they an old curmudgeon or a jolly ole soul? That kind of stuff. All jolly, like me, I’m sure ha. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="font-family: "helvetica"; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">E. I really wanted to go to Norway and Italy, but now I'm scared with the unrest in the world. I’ll see if that dies down or gets worse before I decide on </span>that<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> one. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>G. Take the kids to the giant redwoods in California. Kerry and I saw them but now I want them to see them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>H. Go to Raleigh, South Carolina and see the Andy Griffith Museum and on to Savanna Georgia to eat at Paula Deens resturant. While I'm at it maybe drop a few bucks at Myrtle Beach Casinos. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I. Write lots more blogs, and make another book of them. That’s something I do for me. It’s like I can’t believe I wrote all of that! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>J. Finish my life story that, I’ve been working on for years for the kids. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>K. Can some jam, pickles and whatever I feel like. I feel nostalgic when I do. Taking out the jars and hearing the pop takes me back in time. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>L. Let important people know how much they have meant to me in my life, before one day they are gone. Like each of my kids with their individual strengths…let them know I know they are all individuals and nobody is ever compared to the other. Also just being kind to everyday people. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>M. Go to the San Antonio Riverwalk. And maybe drive to Waco to Magnolia Farms. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>N. Work on better photography skills. That’s something else I just love to do. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>O. Go back to Branson…several times maybe. I love Branson, it’s my kind of slow moving pace place. Lived there several summers and I love it in the fall. Too hot and humid in the summer, but I like all the older entertainers there, and the people are the nicest! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>P. Rent a beach house for a week with the whole family. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Q. Play the ukulele more. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>R. Get as healthy as possible for where I am, and take reasonably good care of myself. Im not ever never not eating something because life is to short but I could certainly do a better job.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>S. Get that Cricut out and make something! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>T. Make and eat food I really enjoy both making, and eating.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>U. Get my junk organized better, because I really enjoy beautiful, ordered, surroundings, even though organizing is a weakness and not a strength of mine. And I literally have to say out loud to myself when Im done with something…”put that back where it goes Pam, if you know what’s good for you”!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>V. Keep horses in my heart always and be able to count on my “good horse sense”, that I personally think is my shiniest quality. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>W. fish, fiSH, AND FISH!!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>X.I'll have to add as I think of more. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">That’s all I can think of without really taxing my brain. Maybe we should ask ourselves what gives life it's greatest meaning and do even more of it? Ask if there are places you want to visit and try to find the time, and money, to do it even for a weekend. Making and working on a bucket list is energizing, and could significantly improve your life. Will you finish them all? Will you fail if not? That’s not the point of it, but life could be a whole lot more meaningful and thought out, it seems to me. It works like saving for retirement however…if you wait to make a bucket list till your too old, the time is short, so the earlier you start the better right? My motto has always been that, memories always trump material possessions! </span></span></div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-14606277438641122622016-03-23T12:30:00.003-07:002016-03-24T16:40:33.634-07:00My Memories With Kathy<br />
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Kathy and I are only eighteen months apart, and we were born in a stage of life where our Mom was the busiest in her life! She had inside work to do keeping house and making meals, and she and Dad milked cows and put up hay for them, so Mom worked outdoors as well. We had older siblings who were teenagers so we were parented by Marcella and Sonny too. </div>
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By nature Kathy and I are quite different and sometimes that worked for us and sometimes against us. Kathy was quiet, ambitious, shy, and didn't really like to be snuggled or seem to need that soft touch as much as I did. She was Mom’s baby and by that I mean Mom knew Kathy was the last baby, so she relished every moment with her. I on the other hand was talkative, lazy, loved attention, and pretty sure that Kathy cornered the market on Mom, I cornered the market on Dad. We had a great division sometimes between Mom and Kathy, and Dad and I. I went on horse buying trips with Dad, and Kathy stayed home with Mom. When we danced around the living room, I danced with Dad and she with Mom. If we talked our parents into sleeping in their beds Mom slept with Kathy, and I slept with Dad. My Dad was a warm guy and I enjoyed climbing on him, hugging and snuggling. Mom was colder, with a stereotypical German temperament back then, and all about work. She wasn’t as warm and huggy...she rarely even sat down for that matter, so that seemed to fit together well for Kathy. I tell this because it put some division between us as kids, on one hand, but on the other hand Kathy and I were best friends on a good day ha. </div>
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Horses were our life. We rode big work horses, tiny ponies, thoroughbreds, and our beloved quarter horses, our favorite. Some of our best memories are getting out of bed in our pajamas, one of us carrying the box of cereal (oh yeah we shared a love of food too), the other carrying the milk, and each a bowl and spoon. With just a halter and rope, we rode bareback to our paths in the trees and then we let the horses eat grass while we turned around backwards, using their wide butts for a table, and ate our cereal, passing the box back and forth till be were full! We swang in the barn, made mud pies, played Indian maidens in the snow banks, slid down the hills, ice skated on the water hole, played dolls, dressed up the barn cats and pushed them in the buggies, played baby dolls, jacks, jumped rope, made clothes for our wishnic trolls, played Barbie dolls and fought over the record player. </div>
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We had a unique way of manipulating each other, probably like sisters do. Me being the most talkative, would use words to tip the scales for my benefit. She on the other hand used the silent treatment to drive me crazy. After Dad died, I used to be scared to sleep in my room across the hall from her’s. I’d beg Kathy, “can I please sleep with you” and she’d say something like, “ok but if you get on my hair once your out of here”. She had long hair that she strung out straight like Rapenzel, and this was a three quarter size bed so, never fail I’d get on a piece of her hair and she’d send me packing sometime during the night but by then I was in the sleepy mode and being scared was on the back burner! If we fought it was all out war! We scratched up record albums with nail files once just to get even with each other. </div>
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I took advantage of her hard work ethic too, sometimes even making her saddle my horse and bring him up to the house to ride while I watched the forbidden soap operas till she got us ready! One time she even attempted to drag me to the barn with a sled with runners in the middle of the summer, till Mom came home and put the kibosh on that plan! I have to say even though I thought it was ok for me to manipulate her into something.... if somebody else was mean to her or if she had to get off her horse and couldn't get on I’d be the first to get off mine and get her back on. She was my little sister and I spoke for her when she was shy and looked out for her when she needed me, at least that's my story. </div>
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In high school we ran around some together and I was a total tee totaler because i had such bad anxiety and panic attacks after our Dad died. I didn't like the way alcohol made me feel either. If Kathy had any drinks or was going to party I turned into mother hen, which went over like a lead balloon at times. But we had dates together and a lot of fun memories. </div>
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As adults when our kids were small we spent holidays together. Family birthday parties, fourth of July parades and lots of fun things. We also faced a lot of bad things together. Our parents once talked of divorce and we would sit huddled together at the top of the stairs wondering what would become of us being I was Daddy’s favorite child and she was Mom’s favorite? Later our brother Sonny was killed in a car accident which made us feel so helpless for Mom and Phyllis and the girls besides our own grief. We talked on the phone a lot and got though it. Then our Mother started saying some bizarre things…and before long she had Alzheimers and had deteriorated into not being able to take care of herself. Again we faced that the best we could.<br />
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My favorite thing about Kathy is when I need her she is always willing to help without me even asking her, she just knows what I need. When I broke my leg just before Brendon’s high school graduation, Kathy showed up to scrub all my floors, and worked her little tail off. When I moved here to AZ in a hurry, she helped me have a huge garage sale (and i mean floor to ceiling stuff in the garage). Without her I couldn't have faced it because i was so emotionally mixed up at the time and I can’t organize anyway. She has always been there from as far back can remember and that’s a wonderful feeling. <br />
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Even though we live farther apart now, and we are still different people, I hope she knows how much I love my little sister, and she will always be that, and how incomplete my life would have been without her. She’s still quiet and I still speak for her probably more than I should, without even meaning to, cuz she manages quite well without me ha. Every year I try to talk her into coming down and staying in my guest room but she's always got “too much to do”, still the hard worker she has always been. One of these days though…</div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-35354571081120442062016-02-02T21:17:00.000-07:002016-02-02T23:19:22.249-07:00Florence<div style="font-family: helvetica; line-height: normal;">
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What do you do with yourself when your sad, feeling helpless and restless? I like to put my feelings on paper. My aunt Florence passed away tonight. She has a big family and is one of the most loved people I ever knew by many, many people. Let me tell you about her from my heart. </div>
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Do you have those Aunts and Uncles that it doesn't matter if one is your blood and the other not, theres no difference…you love them both the same. That’s how I love Florence and Chester. When I was in elementary school our time with them was spent like ND people did back then. The adults played cards and all of us cousins rode horse, played red light, green light or hope to see the ghost tonight under the yard light! Later if we were at Grandma Bruhn’s tiny house in Blaisdell, we would all pair up and sit in the cars and talk because there was no room for kids in the house!</div>
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After my Dad passed Florence, and Grandma Bruhn (their Mother) became Mom’s main source of support. We were at Johnson’s a lot and Florence was at our farm a lot too. When I was in high school I was the editor of the school paper, in class plays, ballgames, and her home was always the place to go until dark when Mom got done with her long days on the farm.</div>
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Florence’s home was always full of family! Her own five children and later grandchildren. Cousin’s on the other side of the family that lived in Palermo too. Even with so many people in and out of the house, I never saw her have a messy house ONCE! She always had something baked, supper on the table and always dressed clean and neat. She permed her hair every six weeks because that was the style back then and she was lucky enough to have a beautician daughter who kept her hair up. She and Chester always had funny bantering going on, she was the straight man to his jokes. For example, they had a round mirror on the wall in the kitchen and Chester would say, “damn I’m handsome”, just to see us roll our eyes and get a response from Florence. She’d put him in his place with a good comeback, when she had to and he kind liked her spunk you could see. They made lots of yard wood projects together over the years and their yard is always beautiful! They were inseparable as the years went on. They have been so special to mine and my sisters kids as well! </div>
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Florence had a heart attack and lost 40% of her heart about 25 years ago. Mom and I sat with Chester and their family asking God that she survive and she did. She was always my Mom’s baby sister who got run over by a car as a child, and to Mom a survivor. She survived that heart attack and like Allen said, family felt like we had her on borrowed time.</div>
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When our Mom got sick with Alzheimers she and Chester didn't let Mom or us kids down. They supported our tough decisions we had to make for her and they kept coming to spend time with her all the way to the end of her life. They drove 2 hours sometimes to see her, which was such a support to us kids. When Mom was on her death bed, Florence and Chester were there too. Like you do when someone is dying you question why sometimes. We cried that we were too young to not have our Mom. Florence said, “I’ll be your Mom”, and she made good on it. She never forgot our birthdays and anniversaries and I will miss her card this year and I will miss sending her one. </div>
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When it was her time to go we had to go see her and thankfully her family shared her with us this past weekend. As I sat there at her house, I looked at all the things she collected… birds (she especially loved humming birds), angels, and decorative eggs and probably more that I don’t remember seeing. </div>
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She passed away like she wanted to. Family and friends came to see her, both Jackie and Tanya being nurses taking care of her. Her kids there, her dog Daisy in her lap a lot, and Chester still doing everything he could for her. My heart breaks for Chester. After that many years how do you find the strength to let her go? Pray for him, please. </div>
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If I had a wish for the kids in the world today it is to be loved by extended family like we were by her. Thank you God for the gift of Florence in my life. </div>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-49842066249194703882016-01-23T18:09:00.001-07:002016-01-24T00:37:30.091-07:0040 Things I'll Never Do<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>After being on this earth a good many years already, there are a few things I KNOW I won't be doing if I can help it!</b><br />
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<b style="background-color: cyan;">1. Sleep on the hard floor. Nope... I like my 4" memory foam and eight or nine pillows! The last time Shelbey stayed here she slept with me and I was just dozing off when she piped up with do you have any flatter pillows? I laughed and said look around...I'm sure one of these is flat ha.</b><br />
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<b>2. Appear on the Naked and Afraid TV Show. Seeing myself naked makes me afraid...I got a show all my own!</b></span><br />
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<b>3. Go to "hot yoga", or hot anything. Don't like hot!</b></span><br />
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<b>4. Run a marathon...I'm too damn lazy.</b></span><br />
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<b>5. Make others more important than myself, I did that for years and I'm done with that. I keep myself on the same page as others.</b></span><br />
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<b>6. Go on a roller coaster, did that for the kids a few times but I really hate them.</b></span><br />
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<b>7. Sit through a scary movie in the name of entertainment.</b></span><br />
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<b>8. Smoke cigarettes. Been there did that.</b></span><br />
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<b>9. Have a baby, I'm a bigger wuss these days so it's a good thing I'm past my prime ha.</b></span><br />
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<b>10. Wear a bikini, I might lose it.</b></span><br />
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<b>11. Hunt an animal. Although if the neighbor's chickens keep jumping the fence so my dogs kill them and theres blood, guts and feathers all over I might hunt a neighbor...(THIS IS A JOKE)</b></span><br />
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<b>12. Stop loving my children.</b></span><br />
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<b>13. Be the quiet type</b></span><br />
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<b>14. be a Kathy Griffin fan...DO NOT LIKE HER</b></span><br />
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<b>15. Choose a Pepsi over a Coke</b></span><br />
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<b>16. Topple around in high heels. I prefer my hips not broken.</b></span><br />
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<b>17. Ice skate... my ankles fold up like a house of cards.</b></span><br />
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<b>18. Buy underwear at a Thrift store</b></span><br />
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<b>19. Believe a man that says, "go ahead I'm listening".</b></span><br />
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</span><b><span style="background-color: cyan;">20.</span> <span style="background-color: cyan; color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;">Dig my key into the side of his pretty little souped up four wheel drive, carve my name into his leather seat, take a Louisville slugger to both head lights, and slash all four tires. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b style="background-color: cyan;">21. Get a sex change. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>22. Date somebody twice my age ha..</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>23. Wear cheap tight shoes</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>24. Attend clown school</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>25. Stick my head out of a dressing room and say to the clerk, "this is a mile too big, you wanna grab me a size 2"?</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b style="background-color: cyan;">26. Have washboard abs</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>27. Take a pole dancing class</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>28. Wear a tube top..thank me later</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>29. Start a fist fight</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>30. Put up Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>31. Crowd surf</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>32. Mud wrestle</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>33. Single space my Christmas letter</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b>34. Eat a Jalepeno</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="background-color: cyan; color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b style="background-color: cyan;">36. Win a video game</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b style="background-color: cyan;">37. Get Married</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b style="background-color: cyan;">38. Watch a concert from someones shoulders!</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b style="background-color: cyan;">39. Work in a butterball processing plant.</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></span>
</span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><b><span style="background-color: cyan;">40. Not get annoyed when you don't answer someone fast enough and they say, "HELLO"?? Welcome to my shit list when that happens.</span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"> </span></b></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc; color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc; color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><span style="color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #fcfcfc; color: #4d4e4e; font-family: "sorts mill goudy" , "georgia" , "times new roman" , "times" , serif; font-size: 18px; letter-spacing: 0.18000000715255737px;"><br /></span>
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Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6919401936252833981.post-19246608787694738382016-01-22T21:07:00.004-07:002016-01-23T08:47:40.224-07:00Stanley On A Saturday Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What's the best part of the week when your a farm kid? Going to town on Saturday night of course! We lived twenty or more miles, from the nearest small town with a grocery store, and 45 miles from a bigger city where you could do serious shopping. <br />
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Driving to Stanley as elementary age kids, my sister Kathy and I were happily unbuckled in the backseat, Dad driving and Mom pointing out anything out of the usual, along the road. Things like how white the alkali lake was, a fox in the distance, how the grain crops were coming along, how many weeds in the fields(thats a problem for farmers every year). Interesting stuff like that. Once we drove under the viaduct and were officially on main street Stanley, we couldn't wait to parallel park and hurry to get to Hohn drug for a lime soda before it closed!<br />
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Next Mom and "us kids" went to Piggly Wiggly grocery store with her yellow check, my dads signature scrawled across the bottom of it because as we heard a million times over the years, she never had any money of her own! Well except 15.00 a month "allowance". A lot of my Moms generation of women lived like that, it seemed even if it was grudgingly. Kathy and I tagged along behind Mom in the grocery store. And Dad started his rounds at the local bars, it was a mans world for the most part. After we got groceries, we went to the meat locker and ask for bones they were throwing away for our dog, and lugged them to the car. Next to Perry's gro store for maybe something that was cheaper there than Piggly Wiggly. Sometimes we went to Gambles where the owner had a crabby, snappy little Pomeranian that was a permanent fixture there. I was scared of that little gremlin! Kathy and I would go to Springen's furniture store way in the back corner and pick out a 45 rpm record with our allowance and maybe a trip through Ben Franklin yielding some good penny candy.<br />
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After that Mom retired to our car with our aunt Mable Jarmin usually, who had driven their pickup into town, was doing the same as we were, watching people go by and waiting for a glimpse of Dad and her husband Dewey, going from one bar to the other. There were three in town, The Five Spot, The Farmers Bar, and the West Side and he went to them in that order so we could gage how much longer of this sitting in the car stuff was ahead! Kathy and I could walk up and down the street until dark, but absolutely not past the Scandia bank! Or if the movie that week was fit for kids, we'd see the lastest Elvis movie or Frankie and Annette in a one of the Beach movies that were popular then. Those were my favorite! If we were lucky there was a black and white "spook show" after the regular movie! I wish I could watch one of those old ones now, because they seemed so scary back then.<br />
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Finally our Dad would come to the car about 11pm and take us to the Two Way Inn for a hamburger and a bottle of Nesmiths Orange Soda. Sometimes we'd see Kelly Moore, there with his black plastic glasses and loafer shoes. Later in life he became my brother in law and I call him my brother from another mother because he has been in my life so long. The 20 mile drive home was always tense, and the reason I am still today, mostly anti alcohol. Dad would be "half shot" like Mom called him, and would drive way to fast. The more Mom ask him to slow down, the faster he drove. Being born a nervous Nelly, all I could see was a deer jumping out of nowhere, or snow that looked like white knives coming at your windshield, hard, hard snowbanks that had blown across the roads that you needed just the right speed to clear, In the summer fog sometimes so thick we had no idea where the turn was to get back to the farm but he was determined to be the sole judge of how fast we got there.<br />
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Finally, I was sixteen and got a legal drivers license! Mom let me take the car almost every night the last couple years of high school. I ask her once after I was grown and married, why she let me go so much and she very lovingly said, "I just never wanted you girls to be sad, because after your Dad died you'd had enough sadness". So we ran around every night, which most farm kids didn't get to do. We'd drive up main street Stanley and into Ranum's Laundromat, or Stanley Equipment turn around and back up main street until we got to the train depot. Gas was .39 a gallon and we filled up at home because we bought our gas in bulk from the Standard Oil Truck that Kenny Vaage from Blaisdell drove. We always hoped we'd see friends, especially boys to hang out with and they'd stick their arm out and wave us over where we'd park one of the cars. I never drank in high school, I always took care of all the others that did. My Dad only drank on Saturday nights, when I was a child but the feeling of not knowing what a drunk person will do still makes me nervous to be around one to this day! I don't mind someone drinking a few and being a little talkative, but drunkness still makes me nervous. <br />
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Mom, Kathy and I lived like three girlfriends in high school. We could always bring friends home anytime of the day or night and Mom would get up( like she'd have been sleeping) and cook for all the kids who'd been drinking. I will never forget her making hamburgers at midnight and calling out mustard, ketchup, mayo? She loved being part of and listening to all the stories the kids would tell, and everyone loved my even tempered Mom. She never slept till we were home and would come looking for us if we didn't call. I can't imagine the worry she must have had with no cell phones to check on us. Back then you could call person to person for free so we would call and she'd say no the person wasn't here but that was a signal we were going to be late! I could hear her exhasperation when the operator ask her to accept the call! Poor Mom.<br />
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As girlfriends around the house though Mom, Kathy and I played music all the time! Mom loved music too, unless it was the same record over and over, which always brought out some reaction on her part! We took impromptu trips to Stanley just to go to the Dairy Queen or Tastee Freeze, just for the heck of it which was pretty unheard of. I think she was starting to dread us leaving home and wanted to spend more time with us. We took turns with the Lee girls getting the family car and driving to Stanley. They lived south of Blaisdell, our little home town and we lived North of town. We gave their parents some sleepless nights too.<br />
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I loved horses, and cats and so much about living on the farm but worrying about the remoteness turned into a perilous feeling once our Dad died and we three were alone out there with 100 horses. The roads would blow shut, furnaces go out, cars drive in and out of the yard late at night, and I wanted to get to town where people were. Today everyone has snow equipment and life is different on the farm.<br />
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Stanley was the fun place to go as a kid growing up. We had wonderful 4th of July celebrations, fun times at Regis theater and lots of fun chasing boys back in the day. Everybody should have "Stanley on a Saturday night"memories. <br />
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THE PICTURES I USED BELONG TO our saviors.org and the Regis theater Facebook page.<br />
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<br />Pamellahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00946232709842759723noreply@blogger.com2