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Showing posts from April, 2010

C: Isn’t It All About Me? or The High Cost of Summer Blossoms

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Recently I had a family in my office, gathered around my young-father client who was experiencing marital difficulties.  This son of the family was going through a divorce he did not want, and his parents were present because they are loving, involved grandparents.  Sometimes I see parents of my grown clients who are really running the show behind scenes; and I have to separate them, visiting with my client alone, guiding him or her notwithstanding the parents’ inappropriate input.  But I did not sense that situation here.  No, these were sane, rati onal grandparents who were present because the breakup of their son’s marriage was a family tragedy, and there are young children involved.  These grandparents were focused on the children; they were not bashing the young wife who was intent on leaving; they were not jockeying for financial position.  They were worried, sincerely, about the kids.  They were saying things like, “ We wish she would go to marital counseling, but it seems

V: The Sweet Faces of "J" -Happy Birthday!

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Earlier this week I posted about my special granddaughter, "J", and the wonderful day we had with our little picnic at the park. There wasn't time to tell about all the things that make her special, but on the occasion of her birthday, I wanted to take the time now to write about just that! I've often lamented to my family that my dad isn't alive so he could have known "J". I just know that he would have loved her and appreciated what is so unique about her. "Some people are just naturally funny", he would say. And "J" fits that bill! Like the image ingrained in my memory of two and a half year old "J" standing on a chair at the kitchen sink, washing dishes in a sink full of bubbly suds. She was wearing a purple fairy costume with sequins, topped by a purple cone hat with flowing purple scarves (vision a damsel in distress costume)! She scrubbed those toy dishes over and over! Two years later, I see her kneeling at the batht

C: The Really Important Stuff

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Keep your friends close.  I mean it!  Those who have been reading this blog for very long know that V and I are close.  We talk almost everyday.  We go way— waaaaay —back!  That picture on the right is my fourth birthday party.  That’s V on the left with me, the birthday girl, in the light-colored frock, both of us blowing party noise makers.  She and I can both describe my birthday cake to you—it was a circus “Big Top” cake, and we were so very impressed with it. Because of our long history, V knows things about me I’d rather you didn’t—no matter, I know some things about her, too, so my secrets are safe!  And she is a loyal, wise friend; I never doubt that. I don’t know what I’d do without V; she has been unbelievable support through the trials of my last couple of years. And she’s non-judgmental, too! Take  the other night.  On a whim and at last minute, I decided to have MIL and V and her husband, R, to dinner.  Must try out that new grill, you know!  Son and I began spiffi

Stickhorse Cowgirl V: The Golden Rule

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Several weeks ago on a beautiful Saturday morning, hubby and I picked up our only granddaughter "J", from a birthday slumber party. We took "J and our dog, Dudley, to a local park to have a little fast food picnic! "J"'s mother, our eldest daughter, had just gotten out of the hospital for pregnancy complications and had undergone an ultrasound revealing the gender of her unborn child (YAYYYY, it's a GIRL!!!!!!),due this July. Granddaughter "J "and I had shopped for the birthday gift; hungry, tired and cranky kindergarten brother in tow! Wasn't I just doing this myself for my own three kids a few years ago?! Anyway, the gift was chosen, wrapped in the parking lot, card signed and we delivered "J" to the party just in time! The next morning, after picking "J" up, off to Pinnacle Mountain Park we went --yes, it is a "little" mountain as mountains go, but hubby and I climbed to the top summer before last which was

C: Comfort food

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What is your comfort food?  (I have, oh, so many).  Mine tend toward the heavy-carb side: mac ‘n’ cheese, chicken and dumplings, you get the drift.  But it has occurred to me recently that sometimes comfort food is defined not so much by the food itself or its taste, but by comfort associations with that food.  We  have a Brazilian restaurant near our office, one of our favorite places to eat.  Occasionally ( verrrrrry occasionally) we will send out for lunch there.  It is way too pricey to make this place a lunch (or even dinner) habit.  But the food is stupendous. It has some fancy-schmancy dishes on the menu—heck, they all look fancy-schmancy to me—but one that I love for lunch is a lovely chicken salad type of thing they call SALPICAO.  It is a warm dish, not the cold Southern chicken salad.  The menu describes it as: Finger-shredded chicken breast, Fuji apples, carrots, sweet peas, fresh herbs batata palha (potato shoestrings) served over rice.  $13.95.  So, you can se

V: A Faithful Man Who Can Find?

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If you've been reading for a while you know that "C" often writes about the plight of divorce, and especially how it affects women and children. Sadly, this is because she sees the wreckage in her family law practice everyday. I have to admit that I've become somewhat discouraged lately. Who could avoid hearing daily of the rampant infidelity in the lives of the rich and famous. Are we so desensitized that we just don't care anymore? Have we become completely apathetic regarding the breakup of the family? C" informed me recently that her estranged husband has been extending requests for "friendship" on Facebook to old friends and relatives. He also sent Christmas cards with a photo of him, his girlfriend and new baby (his new family as he calls them), to friends and relatives of his wife! Remember "C" is still legally his wife ! These actions were deliberately cruel. A close mutual friend of ours called me the other day to tell me that sh

C: Information, Please!

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I am really about to demonstrate my age, here.  Remember that phrase (those of you who are old, like me) “ Information, please ?”  Do you  reme mber calling the operator by dialing “O,” and saying, “Information, please ” to get to what is now called “directory assistance?” Gee, this is stirring up memories….remember calling long-distance with help of an operator?   “ Station-to-station” was cheaper because it meant that you would speak to whomever answered the phone.  “ Person-to-person ” meant that you designated the recipient of the call, and you were not charged if you did not get your person, which meant it was more expensive when you did  get your party. A long-distance call was reason for urgency.  I can remember hearing: “ Hurry, it’s long-distance !” when someone would call from out of town.  “ Collect ” meant that the person on the receiving end of the call would accept the charges.  We still do this today, however, mostly the collect calls we receive at our office are

C: Every Day Ordained?

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This is a post about a post.  My mother-in-law posted the other day at Immigrant Daughter , and in it she revealed something I only just discovered while reading it.  She did not make much of this in her post but, as you will see, I have been pondering it ever since I read it.  Here’s the much-shortened version of the back story:  My father-in-law (now gone from us for two years) was born out of wedlock in Indiana in 1924.  He was raised in foster homes, and his story is one of extremes: tragedy and redemption.  This is one of my favorite pictures of him, in my breakfast room, holding my cat.  You can read more about him on Immigrant Daughter .  He married MIL in 1949. When he was grown, with his own family (maybe in his 50’s??), he found his blood family.  After he was given to the foster system as an infant, his parents had married and had two sons—his full brothers.  His parents had both died by the time he located the family. In that research he came in contact with his au

V: Pure Grace and a Child of God

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I love the concept of covenant. I truly believe that when the Lord enters into covenant with us, He never breaks that relationship. I'll probably never have the theological debates over free will and the gift of faith figured out, but I'm glad that I don't need to understand exactly how it all works to have the faith which has been granted to me, for even faith itself is a gift. Pure Grace - unmerited favor. Our family had the delight of our newest member, Jack, wearing his great-grandfather's Christening dress that he wore in 1907, receive the gift of pure grace this Easter. If only he will grow up to be half the man his great-grandfather was, I would be happy. My father-in-law was such a man of unfailing love for his family and honest, kind, and faithful. These are all  praiseworthy attributes which I hope little Jack inherits! So here is a photo of Jack trying on this lovely hand-embroidered dress which is now 103  years old! Youngest daughter and I took Jack o

C: Do I Need My Own Blankety-Blank Truck??!!

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For weeks I have been needing a pickup truck.  I bought a daybed—need a mattress.  Am fixing up my bedroom porch—need wicker chairs.  Ditching my old, ratty BBQ cooker—need a new grill.  How do I get these things to my home? Living in the country I am surrounded by helpful neighbors, almost all of whom have a pick up truck.  But I am working sunup to sundown through the week.  And last weekend it rained and I’m never able when they are…besides all the hauling I need requires several stops.  I hate imposing on people.  I just could not bring myself to call some one to lend me their truck for half a day. All week I have been fuming…scheming to buy myself a work truck, knowing that if I did it would be outside something I really can afford.  Still, I live in the country; doesn’t that require a truck?  I’ve looked in the paper; I’ve gone on line at local car lots; I’ve even looked at the credit situation to check out monthly payments.  But I resisted, worrying about a looming tax pay