{ Crazy for Blondies }

I sooooooo wish I was chowing this right now... too bad this pic is like 2 years old... dang.

{ Love a Full House }

{Late Summer, Early Fall 2009}

the time of year i. live. for.

{ #TrueStory }

I found this amusing... true and amusing lol

{ My Valentine... }

is a hottie!

{ When I Look at You }

 

Everybody needs inspiration
Everybody needs a song
A beautiful melody when the night's so long
'Cause there is no guarantee that this life is easy
When my world is falling apart
When there's no light to break up the dark
That's when I look at you

When the waves are flooding the shore
And I can't find my way home anymore
That's when I look at you

When I look at you,

I see forgiveness, I see the truth
 

You love me for who I am like the stars hold the moon

Right there where they belong
And I know I'm not alone
 

When my world is falling apart
When there's no light to break up the dark
That's when I look at you

When the waves are flooding the shore
And I can't find my way home anymore
That's when I look at you

You appear just like a dream to me
Just like kaleidoscope colors that prove to me
All I need, every breath that I breathe
Don't ya know, you're beautiful

When the waves are flooding the shore
And I can't find my way home anymore
That's when I look at you
I look at you 

You appear just like a dream to me.

{Miley Cyrus}

 ***************************

Thanksgiving day offered us a unique blessing this year.

It marked our 10 year wedding anniversary in our  journey toward eternity.

We are so blessed to have each other, my heart is full.

{ Scenery Along I-81N & 70W }

M. thought these {windshields} were pretty sweet on our way home from VA!

{ In Line }

Springers, I'd wait in a line all day long for your one-of-a-kind yumminess.

Chocolate Peanut Buter Cup, until next year.

{ This is How We Do Lunch }

 {St. George style }

{ Bodyguards }

 {Gracie}

They've got our back.

{Tank}

{ Perspective }

 So, the annual "Take-your-child-to-work-Day" came around again this year.

B.'s job is not the most kid-friendly job in the world, even with being a teacher.

He works with troubled high-school age kids, many of whom are awaiting felony charges/trials.

Broken homes and broken choices create broken lives and broken hearts.

There really isn't a better person to be put in charge of these kids but B.

He is just what the doctor ordered for a broken heart and for someone to believe in them.

He is frequently asked how he is able to handle large groups, whether it be as a coach or as a teacher. 

His answer is getting to know them on an individual basis.

Get to know them one at a time and then you know how to reach them individually, among a group.

He's actually had other students stick up for him and for the rules,
using a few colorful words of not so great choice. 

J., remembering the explanation his Dad gave him last year, knew that He wouldn't be going with him to his job again this year. Everyday B. comes home with stories involving past students convicted of murder on the front page of the paper, armed robbery, or a runaway being pulled out of a tree by the police.

So, on a lighter note, we reinforced that it would be best that he not go b/c the kids Dad teaches make wrong decisions and have to go to the principal's office a lot and say bad words.

So, J. and his friends were discussing their parents' jobs on the bus.

Some are businessmen, others are policemen,

J. proudly told his friends that:

"My Dad teaches bad kids not to swear!"

I think that is the coolest job a Dad can have.

{ Oops... }

Before:
After:

Mommy forgot to get M.'s "soup" out of the oven
before Daddy pre-heated it for lunch!
Yikes!

{ Goin' Batty }

Baseball sign-ups are this week.
These boys can't wait to get back into the swing of things
around here!

{ be mine. FoReVeR }

I love you,

not only for what you are,
But for what I am when I am with you.

I love you, not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what you are making of me.

I love you for the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you for putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart and passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can’t help dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern, but a temple;
Out of the works of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you because you have done
More than any creed could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch, without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it by being yourself.
Perhaps that is what being a friend means,
After all.

~Roy Croft

{ Buried }

It hasn't dumped this much snow here since I was about 13 yrs. old.

Power went out for a few days...

and the kids thought that our refrigerator outside
the window was pretty cool.
Favorite treat made in our new fridge/freezer:
OJ Ice cubes on a toothpick.
*
The un-plugged life was a breath of fresh air for us.
It also helped remind us of all the many things we enjoy on
a day-to-day basis that go virtually unnoticed or under-appreciated
until you don't have their convenience to rely on anymore.
And what wonderful opportunities to serve one another.
We were brought meals, offered places to stay, and
were able to help others make a path through the snow.
Definitely all paths of service that lead us to be a little more humble,
a little more grateful, and just a little more like Him.
Thank you, Friends.

{ It's a Fact }

Sunday afternoons were made for nappin'.

{ Love Notes }

(Mom awoke to playing & laughter)

Every work-day morning Dad slips out of the house by 5:45 am.
Occasionally, one small child will awaken and I often hear, through my grogginess,
his/her needs being met by their father as I slip back into my slumber.
A gentle word of comfort, a small drink,
or chicken nuggets and a salad (another post all in itself!)
Around 7am everyone is stirring and usually it is J. who climbs into my bed
for morning salutations.
I love this time of the day for a few reasons.
The whole new day ahead of us, a fresh start kind of feeling.
And, mostly because my kids are so {cheerful}.
Sometimes, I hear of dreams concerning sports, other places we have lived,
or the phenomenal ideas that make our slumbers so worthwhile.
Then, like a switch, J. bounds out of bed in search of "Dad's note."

When he spots his note he loves to run back to me
and either read it to me in its entirety or most of the time
he's cheering upon return,
happy to find out that the Pens won the game that he and his Dad
fell asleep to the night before.
You can bet he counts on that note from his Dad every morning
to start his day {off right}
*
Once the bustle of the morning routine has drawn to a close
and J. is successfully on the bus
(luckily the bus has to pass the house twice & we can catch it on round 2!)
I fix my own breakfast and read the note that was left for "J, M, & K" that
is usually up on the microwave for me to find.
Over the years of leaving me these little tokens of love,
the recipients have increased as our family has grown.
I love that.
*
Whether the notes contain the latest sports scores, a Thank You
for a great dinner the night before, or telling us how much fun he had
just hanging out as a family,

we also are told of the things he doesn't have to say.
That are much quieter,
and tender.

And, each morning, at the start of my every day,
I am grateful
for the sweet reminder.

{ Re-discoveries }

A secret passion I'm about to let you in on...
I treasure hunt.

Since I was very little, my Dad would take me from flea market to flea market, yard sale to garage sale every Saturday morning. I would spend the morning hours rooting and sifting through boxes and boxes of "junk."

I was hooked.

Dust covered stickers for $.25 a piece or 5 for a $1.oo.

Handmade shoelace hair bows in every single color combination 2 for $5.00.
My first long "dangly" earrings and Maybelline makeup,
bought for me by my Dad. At the Flea Market.
My treasures from a day's worth of sorting and searching,
all tucked away and organized in my special hiding places.
This little girl's dream.
*
On into the High School years, Saturday mornings found us in the local thrift stores.
Something about my Dad, he knows every "back way" around town.
We would go from one side of the city to the other, hitting every thrift store along the way.
Old man wool sweaters and thick, chunky cords topped my list during these years.
The hippie, grungy sort, I suppose.
I cut, sewed, rearranged and individualized these clothes and made them
into representations of me.
And I always had my eye out for unique candles/candle holders.
Different was what I went for, in style and in attitude,
during those somewhat unsettling years.
Different is what I clung to
when all around me was not what I wanted to be like.
*
Nowadays, thrift stores and flea markets are trendy and the "in" thing to do!
Who would've known!?
Still, the smell of the standard detergent that occupies second-hand stores
has the power to take me back to the moments of my childhood
where I find a smile on my face.

A trip to the mall or even after-Chirstmas shopping at Target
pales in comparison
to the excitement that fills up within me, even at the ripe old age of 30,
during a Sarurday morning of thrift store shopping.
It is among some of my most favorite feelings, ever.
The anticipation of discovering something's untapped potential.
Creating something with my own two hands out of what I find
or finding that perfect item that is just waiting for me to swoop it up in utter delight!
*
As I look back, I wasn't too far off my mark:
I still love stickers and collect them for my children's scrapbooks.
I am a cosmetologist and love make up and beauty products of all kinds.
I love jewelry and have quite the collection these days.
I create and design my own handmade hair accessories
for my own daughter now.
I still love to sew and design, especially things for my kids.
And, I still like
to
be
me.

They say, "One man's trash is another man's treasure."
How right they are.