I enter the warehouse club and the madness begins. It’s Wednesday after work. It’s usually not busy after work, and today was no exception. However the usual obstacles were still firmly in place. So, tell me: What is it about an after work, crazed, harried, woman with a cart that peoples don’t understand?
This prompt caught my eye. I can play with this one, I thought. What would a miniature post look like? Bing defines miniature as: “of a smaller size than normal.” To my way of thinking a miniature blog would not ramble (I do like to ramble!). It would be short, to the point. Lets try this shall we?
I find this interesting. I’ve taken care of things and others most of my adult life. Now with the transition underway things are changing. I’m so used to taking care of my guys. Then I come home and I’m alone. What? No one to take care of?…Is that relief?…Is that panic? I meander around the house wondering what I need to do. I wonder what’s left for me.
My husband, sons, and I joke about a lot of things. This is one of those things; it is ‘age.’ It does not matter if we are young or old or anywhere in-between, we find humor in life. Another thing we do is create outlandish scenarios. At dinner…not all that long ago, I ask; “what will you do with me when I’m an ole’ grandma?” (I secretly hope)…
This past week was one for memories and tributes to a special man. This man in my life passed away the week before. We celebrated his memorial this past Friday. He was not famous or super wealthy in the way the world looks at wealth. He was wealthy in happiness, humor, and family.
I’m still unsure of myself in the Blogosphere so, as I write my posts I grab whomever is home to read them and look for errors. Also to make sure I’m not too far out-of-bounds (for the family at least…This still gives me a lot of leeway). So far they seem to like what I write. Since they are still mostly home, it’s usually one of the guys that get dragged into my enthusiasm to read before I publish or perish…
A few months ago we held our younger son’s ceremony for his Eagle rank in Boy Scouts. The day finally arrived for the proud parents to show off some swagger. Yes, I am…er…was…maybe still is…a crazy, very proud Scout Mom.
This is the story of my own Screamin’ Eagle. My eldest achieved his Eagle rank about four years ago. He worked with his school to complete a project they needed for their marine programs. His project was an outdoor sink with countertop, plumbing, and electric.