When the kids were babies, we didn’t get out a lot. And when we did, it was a pretty big deal for us. So for us to go to Denver to see my grandpa for a picnic, it was an Outing Extraordinaire.
As long as there has been war, soldiers have fallen and survivors have remembered them. The Memorial Day we observe today had its genesis when the Ladies’ Memorial Association in Columbus, Georgia, passed a motion in 1866 to designate a day to throw flowers on the graves of fallen Civil War soldiers. For all the millions that have perished in our wars, every single one of them had their own story. Each had loved ones who would miss them, or a life that went unfulfilled. While millions is too big a number for our minds to grasp, one story can remind us of the sacrifice each made.
International Hamburger Day
By its name, “hamburger” would suggest that it is a burger made of ham. But as we all know, though generally made of beef or bison, burgers can be made of many, many things, which generally speaking doesn’t even include ham in its long list. (Unless, of course, you want to include “Spamburgers,” which boasts “…two prime cuts of pork shoulder and ham, perfectly tender, spices, and water, packed in tasty goodness…” or something like that. I know. I’ve been to the SpamFest and the Spam Museum, in Austin, Minnesota. Spam helped win World War II you know. I saw their war dioramas and watched the museum movie. And have you ever had the Spam-kabob? Or Spam pizza? Spam fries? Spam bake? But I digress….)
The old lady saw someone coming at a distance and went out in spite of the coming storm to see if her granddaughter was finally coming to visit.
Propelled up the lane by the strong wind came Mr. Wolfe, huffing and puffing at the exertion against the gusting gales. Seeing him was a balm to the letdown of it not being her granddaughter.
Last night, I had one of my stress dreams. I have those about three or four times a week. When I recounted the dream to Spencer, he pointed out to me that this whopper had every single element that my stress dreams are usually comprised of, wrapped up all in one lovely dream. I won’t list all the elements, because then you’d know my “kryptonite” but I can at least mention the elevator aspect. Often, elevator rides are in my stress dreams, elevators that won’t let me off, or go too high or too fast, or only open half way between scary dark floors. (I once saw a horror flick when I was home alone sick from school. The lady tried to crawl out of the stuck elevator and when she was dangling over the edge, struggling to get up onto the floor, the elevator suddenly came to life and cut in her half. I’ve been scarred ever since. Clearly.)
So in light of the uber stress dream, I’m go to go easy on myself today. I found a picture to share for TBT that makes me smile. Look at the joy these kids are having, just being out in the beautiful spring day. I like that. It relaxes me and brings a smile to me just to look at it. I hope it does the same for you.
Goals that are unrealistic or too big, or are just simply too overwhelming, aren’t going to get us anywhere. As a writer, I must have goals and discipline, just like others who want to accomplish “great” things where their passions (or responsibilities) lie. But I’ve found that if I make them too big, I just set up myself for failure. So I’m starting to figure something out. Maybe it will help you too with your accomplishments.
On this day in 1993, Microsoft introduced its new operating system, Windows NT—the NT for "New Technology." This morning I’ve been using a few of those early systems. I have two Windows 95 and a Windows 98—and that doesn’t count the one downstairs with a couple of old games on it.
Twenty-two years ago, my kids and I had a bad Mumday. We moms have those—days when we fail, days that we just wouldn’t want to repeat.
A couple of nights ago we watched the film, “Joy,” about the inventor of the Miracle Mop. Her entrepreneurial spirit brought to mind my own early endeavors.
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Life with Quadruplets
As a mother of quadruplets, I've had plenty of crazy experiences raising "supertwins." I blog a lot of memories about my kids. Sometimes just my thoughts on things. I get those sometimes—when my brain works. Which is about one third of the time.