Tag Archives: working mom

Best and Worst

Posted on April 18, 2011 | Leave a comment

Hi Everyone!

PHIZ Illustration of Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.  It was the day when my sweet daughter demonstrated her extraordinary love, and the day when my mischievous daughter had all my buttons pushed in about 10 minutes.  With those of you who have kids, isn’t that the way it usually is?

From Print Shop Professional 2.0

Mark had a cold this weekend; colds are harder on him than on most people because of reasons there are no need to go into here.  He still got up and went to church, but couldn’t stay for Sunday School, since he wanted to save enough energy for the Sunday night choir service.  Kayla and I stayed for Sunday School, and then once we got home and had lunch, the solemn ritual of the Sunday afternoon nap began.  (Almost every Sunday, Mark and I take a long nap – I’m embarrassed to say that it is one of the highlights of my weekend!) 

From Print Shop Professional 2.0

 Mark didn’t sleep very long because of his cold, and once he woke up Kayla bebopped out of her room, where she gets to sleep or play quietly as she chooses during nap time.  When I woke up at 3, she came into my bedroom to tell me that I needed to come see Daddy immediately.  When I asked why, she told me that he was freezing cold, even though his temperature seemed normal, and she had already given him two blankets and she didn’t know what else to do for him.  As I headed from the bedroom to the den, she also firmly told me that I needed to give Daddy a kiss.  Then she paused and added, “But you need to do it somewhere where it won’t hurt him.”  (One of Mark’s side effects from running a temperature is extreme pain.)  Now, how much more sweet and loving can a daughter get?  Not much!

Kayla Playing Around At Halloween

Then we came to the 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. time slot, where she squirmed, talked, played school and just generally made those noises kids can make that hit a nerve somewhere at the base of your spine and shiver on up to your brain to the “guaranteed to irritate” button.  Towards the end of this time,  we were driving Mark’s mom to take her to the concert with us, and Kayla insisted on being the center of attention.  I was close to my last shred of patience when we pulled up to the church.  (To other parents:  doesn’t that always leave you in the proper mood for worship?   It would be interesting to see videos of families with children under the age of 12 right before leaving for church, and compare that to when they arrive at church.  Sometimes the picture is very different, at least in our house!). 

Fortunately, shift change had arrived, and sweet child came back on the scene.  She sat through an hour of Easter music with no difficulty and impeccable behavior, and enjoyed it very much.  I think though, that she used all the patience she had available to her in that hour, because once she and I got home, the antics started again.  Let’s just say I was extremely frustrated by the time I got her in bed.  Then she reached out to give me my good-night hug, and somehow none of the rest mattered anymore.  I guess the entire day was the best of times, after all!

Kayla and Mandy right after we got Mandy

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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Updates: Roadkill, Rites of Spring (I) and Grumpy

Posted on April 15, 2011 | 2 comments

Hi Everyone!

Sorry this is a little late, but I am having problems with my internet access at my house.  I thought I would update you on previous posts today.

Darwin and Mandy

  • Roadkill

I’ll start with the dogs.  You may remember the stuffed animal toys that had been keeping Darwin and Mandy out of trouble for at least a week?  Well, the two of them finally discovered both the stuffing and the squeakers in the animals and in the space of about three days managed to remove both.  We haven’t (although we probably should) thrown any of them out yet; even though a deflated stuffed dog toy looks a lot like roadkill, Darwin still really loves them and I hate to take them away from him yet.  On the other hand, Mandy’s consumption rate on handkerchiefs and other items has started to climb back up.  The other night I didn’t get the kitchen cleaned in time, and before we knew it, she had helped herself to left-over steak and fries for a hearty night-time snack.  Once we caught her at it, she came trotting back over to the den, but she wasn’t particularly sorry about what she’d done, either. 

Tyra is slowing down a little bit, which isn’t unusual for a dog her age.  Part of her problem is the canine glaucoma she has in her left eye; I don’t think she sees very well out of it anymore, so to go anywhere in the house she circles around the long way so she can see where she’s going through her other eye.  She ended up sulking last night, which I have never seen her do before. 

Tyra in the Kitchen (Mandy and Darwin are in the background)

Mark likes to play the piano.  She likes to stand beside him while he plays and expects him to play one-handed every so often so she can get petted while he plays.  Last night, however, he didn’t stop to pet her.  After about 20 minutes of that, Tyra walked over to Mandy’s carrier and went and sat inside it with her face pointing away from Mark at the piano.  The only explanation was that she was sulking.  When he finished, he went over to the carrier and coaxed her back out.  

  • Rites of Spring (I)

The Way My Garden Groweth (NOT!)

In my March 23 post, “Spring, Roosters & Butterflies”, http://wp.me/p1mXHZ-4U, I mentioned that the first rite of spring was going into a trance at a garden center and walking out with all kinds of spring flowers.  That was three weeks ago.  As of today, the pansies that I bought are still alive outside, but have not been transplanted into the planters on the porch (I have instead hidden the normal planters and left the pansies in the pots they came in), and the grass seed, caladium, gladioli and lily bulbs still remain in the trunk.  Hopefully I will get a chance to work on it Saturday! 

  • Grumpy

While yesterday morning, sweet child made an appearance, this morning saw the arrival of grumpy, crying child.  The first cry came over the fact that she had “nothing to wear.”  For those of you who don’t know us personally, trust me – the child has plenty to wear.  For some reason, she didn’t appreciate it when I proved this fact to her by pulling out a pair of shorts and a shirt for her.  The second cry came while she was brushing her hair in the bathroom; when I went in to investigate, I discovered her brushing her hair so hard with the hairbrush that it almost amounted to her hitting her head with the hairbrush.  Further inquiry established that the problem was that neither her bangs, nor a section of hair would lie down flat.  Although my suggestion that she use some “no tangle” spray on the rebellious sections was scorned at first, I noticed that the problem was fixed exactly the way I had suggested.  When she finally came out of the bathroom, she announced she was not going to have breakfast at home because she was sure they were going to have cheese grits for breakfast at school.  The third sulk (not a cry, because Mark was out in the great room by then, too) was over the fact that I refused to let her take ginger ale in a thermos to school.  School rules specifically state that soft drinks are not allowed, so we made her pour it out.  She decided to take lemon-lime Gatorade instead, but absolutely insisted on pouring into a thermos.  When I asked why, she said that all her friends drank their drinks in cool containers like that, and she wanted to do likewise.  She chose to take the thermos we purchased the one time we took her on an overnight cruise, so I suspect she will be the only child at school drinking her drink from a Royal Caribbean insulated tumbler.

Mark finally managed to cheer her up before they left, but we were definitely having a Monday morning on Friday!

Kaylas Spring School Picture (Age 9)

Have a great day and weekend everyone!

Nancy

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Posted in dogs, On the Home Front, Out of the mouths of babes...., Pets, When things don't go as expected, working mom

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Growing Up

Posted on April 14, 2011 | 2 comments

Good morning everyone!

It’s pretty surprising, but when I woke up this morning, I realized that we had reached Thursday, with an excellent chance of reaching Friday tomorrow.  This week is flying by! 

The older I get, the quicker time passes.  Only yesterday Kayla was 3, and I was reading her a bedtime story, and now she is a beautiful young lady of 9!

Bed Time Story when Kayla was three

Kayla's Spring School Picture (Age 9)

That’s quite a change in just 6 short years! 

As she grows, I enjoy seeing her personality develop, and, in spite of any small mistakes she makes along the way, I love the beautiful sweet intelligent person that she is growing up to be.  (Of course, we haven’t hit the teen years, yet, either.  I have heard through friends that the reasons children are so sweet in their elementary school years is to give the parents enough memories to allow the children to survive their teens.) 

To give you an idea of the difference in maturity, one Saturday afternoon when Kayla was five, Mark was taking a nap in our bedroom while I was doing some chores in the great room and Kayla was (supposed) to be either napping or playing in her bedroom.  Suddenly, a piercing wail/scream came out of her bedroom.  I rushed in to find her holding her hand, crying at the top of  her lungs.  Even though I am not a doctor, it was quickly apparent what was wrong – a staple was pressed into the bottom part of her hand.   After some pleading, chiding and exhortation on my part, she finally allowed me to take her hand and pull out the staple.  Being a rational human being, I asked her how the staple came to be in her hand, assuming that it had to have been an accident.  Well, I was wrong – she told me she had decided to staple her hand to see what it felt like.  She certainly found out!  It was actually a brilliant, if accidental, diversionary tactic on her part, since due to the distractions involved in removing the staple, it took me another four or five minutes to realize that the stapler had been in her bedroom originally so that she could staple pictures onto her wall. 

Now, at age 9, the stories (for the most part) involve little things she says, or does.  For example, this year Kayla has blossomed into an avid reader.  She has read tons of books for school, and has over 100 Accelerated Reader points for the year!  She also has two or three books at home she is working on.  Now those of you who grew up in the same house with me will understand why I find this next so amusing – when she is really concentrating on what she is reading, she doesn’t hear or notice when someone is speaking to her.  I can remember coming home from high school, starting to read, and then suddenly realizing that my youngest sister had been speaking to me for about five minutes without my having heard anything! 

Last night, we ate on trays.  (I know, I know, it’s not the best way to eat supper, but we had choir practice at church and it was already 8 by the time we sat down to eat, so trays it was!)  I forgot to put a fork on her tray, and rather than calling out to me to bring her one, she put her tray down and started to go into the kitchen to get her own.  I apologized for neglecting to place a fork on her tray, and she veered off course to come around to me, give me a big hug and say, “Mom, it’s okay; it’s nobody’s fault, you just forgot!” 

Then, this morning, I called to her that it was time to get up and on the second call, I heard a voice from her bedroom calling cheerfully to me, “Mom, I need help.”  I went in to look, and somehow she had managed to roll herself tightly into her top blanket during the night and needed someone to pull the bottom of the blanket out from under her.  She looked rather like a large caterpillar in a purple cocoon.  She thought so too, because when I asked her how she had gotten wound up in her covers like that she answered with a bright smile and laugh, “I don’t know, but I must have  thought I was a butterfly!” 

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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Posted in Just stuff..., Out of the mouths of babes...., working mom

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Reflections from the other side of 46

Posted on April 13, 2011 | 2 comments

Reflections from the other side of 46:

  • Do not salt home-made fries without wearing your glasses, or you won’t be able to see  the salt coming out of the shaker. 
  • Do pay attention to what you are doing in the kitchen; placing your hand on a burner that is still hot will cause extreme pain.
  • The floor keeps getting farther and farther away.
  • The print on books and menus keeps getting smaller and smaller.
  • My glasses keep getting more and more expensive.
  • Light bulbs are not as bright as they used to be. 
  • Your joints suddenly acquire a strange resemblance to Rice Krispies.  (Snap, crackle, pop!)
  • I thought I’d finished with exceptional mood swings and acne once I passed my teens.
  • It is NOT unreasonable to have the air conditioner on when the outside temperature is below 30!
  • An “all-nighter” now  is not.
  •  They say, “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.”  I’m not convinced.
  • Don’t say, “It could be worse.”  It usually gets there before it gets better.
  • Experience is the best teacher, but not always the most comfortable one.  
  • Love grows bigger, better, deeper and wider each year.
  • So do your relationships.
  • Your sense of humor gets better, too.
  • And always, no matter what age you’re at, “these three things remain:  faith, hope and love.  And the greatest of these is love.”

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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Of Waves and Pens

Posted on April 12, 2011 | 11 comments

Good morning everyone!

  • Waves

 

One of the fascinating aspects of living in a small town is learning the language, both spoken and non-spoken.  For example,when a person honks their horn at your car, the odds are pretty good that they are just trying to say hello.  I learned this lesson over 20 years ago, when Mark and I traveled to a small town in South Carolina.

In the middle of town, on the main 45 miles per hour thoroughfare, we got behind an elderly couple going 25 miles an hour.  Not being from a small town at that time, Mark honked his horn, hoping to encourage them to drive a little faster.  When he did so, the driver, the man, looked in his rear view mirror to see who we were and turned to his wife and asked her, “Do you know them?”  The wife looked in the rear view mirror at us and turned to her husband and said, “No.”  They both took one more look to be sure, and then, on cue, not wanting to be rude, both of them waved at us on the off-chance we might indeed be someone they knew.  We waved back, and resigned ourselves to going 25 miles per hour until they decided to turn left. 

  • Pens

I have a junk drawer in the kitchen.  Well, actually, I have four junk drawers in the kitchen and need to pare down, but one of them is supposed to be the designated spot for pens and pencils, so I always know where I can get a writing utensil.  I have decided that this drawer is magic – the pens disappear from the drawer, and never turn back up.  Ever.  I buy 10 pack after 10 pack of pens, with a few good pens thrown in from time to time, but there never is a pen in there when I need one.  The pencils, however, hang around indefinitely.  I am beginning to suspect that the pencils are the main culprits.  How else can you explain a drawer with the same 20 pencils I put in there originally, and not a single one of the 50 to 60 odd pens remaining?  Someday, I am going to find the place to which the pens are magically transported, and suffer a serious injury when I open it and the flood of pens pours out on me, proving yet again that a pen is indeed mightier than a sword!

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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Posted in Just stuff..., On the Home Front, working mom

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The Southernmost Point

Posted on April 11, 2011 | 4 comments

Hi Everyone!

I have covered bits and pieces of our trip to Key West over the last few weeks, and considering that the trip itself was only four days, there has been an amazing amount of material, but now we are winding down to the last few topics. 

While the Hemingway House was both intriguing and inspirational, and the visit to the Key West cemetery reflective, a trip to the Southern part of the island is simply one of those cheerful touristy things that tourists do when they go to Key West.  Over towards the Atlantic ocean side of the island, the two or three blocks that lead to the Southernmost point are covered with things dubbed the “Southernmost” – the Southernmost restaurant, the Southernmost Hotel, the Southernmost Inn, the Southernmost grocery store, the Southernmost dog (well, they didn’t really have a Southernmost dog, but I am surprised that someone didn’t think to bring a dog and hang a plaque around its neck saying so!)

The Southernmost point in the continental United States is actually not quite the Southernmost point – there is an antenna off a jetty behind a fence that you can see from the point dubbed the Southernmost point that is a little more South, but a) you can’t reach it, and b) it is built on land that was created/dredged/reclaimed by filling in the water, so in a typically pragmatic fashion, Key West has continued to call the Southernmost point, the Southernmost point.

To be sure that it is recognized, someone placed a (very colorful, can’t be missed) monument there stating that it is the southernmost point. 

Mark and I at the "Southernmost" Point

There was a line to have your picture taken at the monument, and the family in front of us was kind enough to take a picture of both of us with our camera.

Although it is kind of touristy, it is not a complete gimmick, as there are some interesting historical sites surrounding the southernmost point.

The most  recognizable site  is the Southernmost House.  The history of the Southernmost house is set out in this plaque:

The Southernmost House, itself, is a Victorian mansion complete with all the trimmings.  We did not tour the house while we were there (after all, you have to save something for the next time), but we took several pictures of it, including the following.

As the posted sign by the Southernmost House noted, the mansion was built in 1897.  Technically, it is no longer the very southernmost house anymore, as someone came in and built one house right behind it on the block leading to the Southernmost Monument that is more Southerly, but, I guess, age having its privileges. this mansion was the Southernmost House originally, so the Southernmost House it shall remain!

At the very corner of the turn to reach the monument, there is a structure known as the cable house.  It didn’t look like much, but appearances, as the placard on the cable house showed, can be deceiving.

The Cable House

Its history:

The Southernmost Point/House/Inn/Hotel/Motel was simply a fun, cheerful trip, and cost almost nothing (we even were lucky enough to find a parking spot we didn’t have to pay for!) and, in its own way, was as much a highlight of our trip as the other adventures were.

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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Cheese Grits, the Sequel and Where only the Brave Dare Go

Posted on April 8, 2011 | 1 comment

Hi Everyone! 

  • Cheese Grits, the Sequel

From Print Shop 2.0 - Rising Steam

Last night, Kayla was helping Mark while I was cooking supper.  I left the kitchen to go check on them, and when I got to the room, Kayla said to me, “I wish I could have cheese grits for supper, like the ones they make at school or that Grandma Pat makes.”  (Steam started rising from my stomach toward my ears.)  She then added, “That’s because they have the right kind of grits and cheese.”  (The steam hit my head and started to roll around my eyes in advance of a full whistle blast.)  She reflected a minute, then added cheerfully, “Well, you have the right kind of box but not the right kind of cheese.”  (Small wisps of steam began to slip out from my ears.)  At that point, I told her that she probably should quit while she was behind, and went back to working on supper, which, for the record, was NOT cheese grits and probably won’t be for some time!

  • Where Only the Brave Dare Go

The Inside of My Refrigerator (Not!) From PrintShop 2.0

I really looked at the inside of my refrigerator last night.  To really look at the inside of your refrigerator means that you have to intentionally look at every item on every shelf, as opposed to the instant identification search you do most of the time – ie., you want milk, locate milk, grab milk and return the rest of the refrigerator’s occupants to the comforting, cool dark that they love. 

When I did look, I saw that the inside of the refrigerator is beginning to be a very scary place, which means that the time to clean out the refrigerator has arrived again.  The last time I went through the refrigerator, say six months ago (Mom, I am just kidding – I have cleaned it out since Christmas!), throwing out all leftovers and other items I could not place a date on, I found three science experiments involving fermentation (I didn’t know until then that it was possible for lima beans to ferment), two new kinds of penicillin, three mutant bacteria that did NOT have good intentions for humanity, and four cures for cancer.  If you see the HazMat team headed toward my house this weekend, you will know what caused it!

Have a great weekend everyone!

Nancy

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The Twins of Trouble and Easter Allergies

Posted on April 7, 2011 | 2 comments

Good morning!  
 

Mandy (aka "Bad Dog")

 

Darwin (a/k/a "No-No")

  • No-No and Bad Dog at Bay

For those of you who have been wondering about No-No and Bad Dog, they are still alive and well. 

On Saturday we bought a four pack of stuffed animal chew toys, and so this week the Twins of Trouble’s (they look like twins, don’t they?) chewing efforts have been focused on the three of the four toys we went ahead and put out. 

I am glad the dogs like the toys, and even more amazed that they have lasted for a week!  Usually, it takes about a day, and then the stuffing has been released and strown all over everywhere. 

We still come across the occasional handkerchief lying on the floor in odd places, or the occasional shredded napkin or paper towel scattered somewhere far away from its point of origin or hear the occasional scrape of paws as they slide off of the kitchen counter, having ascertained that nothing is available for retrieval, but we haven’t caught either of them red-handed for a while. 

Most of the time, you see Darwin running by with a stuffed toy in his mouth, and Mandy in hot pursuit, or vice versa.  Occasionally, they are each holding one end of the same toy and running around the room in tandem.  One toy has been put carefully aside by Tyra, who doesn’t chew hers; her chew toy is a treasured doll that she doesn’t allow anyone else to mess with.  The other two toys appear to be interchangeable.  When we got home yesterday, and I was trying to let the dogs out to the back yard, Darwin, with one of them in his mouth, took a spectacular running start toward the back door, until he realized he was going to run out of floor much faster than he expected.  At that point he put on the brakes, sliding five feet plus on the wood floor and only stopping once his momentum took him underneath Mandy, pushing both of them outside.  I’m not sure Mandy knew what hit her; she is so low to the ground that this may be the first time anything has managed to slide under her. 

  • Easter and Allergies

Wednesday is our busiest day.  Not only do we have the regular activities of school and work, but Kayla has dance after school, and then we go to our church for Wednesday evening choir practice.  Currently, the adult choir is getting ready for our Easter performance, which is a beautiful musical arrangement entitled “A Hill Too Far Away.”  It has a great message and I am looking forward to our performance on the 17th, but it is a fairly demanding work, at least from the alto standpoint, with notes ranging from a low G up to the D that is an octave away from middle C.  When the choir finished practicing one particularly demanding song last night, we burst out into so many coughs that we sounded like a tuberculosis ward.  We couldn’t help it – all of us laughed. 

I have long known that God has a sense of humor; why else make sure that Easter and allergy season always coincide?  Maybe He just wants us to remember who actually gives us the ability to sing.  I also, however, have a sneaking suspicion that He laughed along with us when He heard all the coughing at the end of practice.

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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Cheese Grits and Pugliese Bread

Posted on April 6, 2011 | 2 comments

Good morning everyone! 

Even though it was a cold night, at least it was a stormless one!  We all got some much needed rest.

A Breakfast with Grits

  • Cheese Grits

Saturday morning, Kayla woke up and asked me to fix her cheese grits.  For those of you not from the Southern United States, grits are a breakfast food, consisting of flakes of coarsely ground corn and mixed with boiling water to make a porridge-like substance.  It is, I am told, very like polenta.  I would not know, since I have never been tempted to try polenta given my dislike for grits.  Kayla, however, loves them. 

Unfortunately, there was a problem with her request for grits Saturday:  I have never been able to make grits to her satisfaction, which means up to the culinary standard set by her Grandmas Dottie and Pat.  The last time I tried two years ago, I received enough of a critique from her majesty that I resolved to myself that it would be a very long time before I made grits for her again.  However, after a time lapse of two years, I decided that her home grits probationary period had run, so I was willing to give it another try, with a couple of caveats.  The first was that I wouldn’t make cheese grits since I only had shredded cheese, as opposed to a single slice of American cheese to place on top of the cooked grits, which is the way Kayla insists cheese grits should be made.  The second caveat was that no matter what, Kayla was not to tell me how much better either grandmother’s grits were, or give me continuous suggestions on how said grits should be cooked, since I intended to (strangely enough) follow the package instructions.  I almost had to perform a swearing-in ceremony on the last condition, but she finally agreed. 

She did try hard to comply with both conditions, but she had one or two minor slips.  She started to tell me the grits were too watery when I poured them in the bowl for her  but she quickly bit it back and said,”Never mind.”  Then, once she had possession of the grits, she got up, went to the refrigerator and condescended to put the shredded cheese into her grits after all.  I assume that was because she found some flavor to be lacking.  However, since she never did explain the thought process behind the adding of the cheese, technically she did not violate the “no criticism” rule.  

  • Pugliese Bread

I like bread.  While not exactly a connoisseur, I am interested in different kinds of breads and the variations in flavor and crust that can be attained, so when, on Saturday at Costco, I walked by two loaves in a paper sack labeled “Italian Pugliese Bread,” I thought I would give it a try. 

I have now concluded that “pugliese” must be Italian for “crust that can’t be cut with a chainsaw,” or perhaps “pugnaciously tough crust” since even our best and sharpest bread knife could only saw about halfway through the loaf vertically – and that only with a great deal of effort – after which you had to bend the bread to finish breaking it off.  It was not quite as difficult to cut the bread horizontally, but it still wasn’t easy.  Surprisingly, the bread when heated in the toaster oven with a little butter on it was not too tough to eat, although it was a little chewy.  Still, I am going to learn the Italian words for “soft crust that can be cut” before I try any more novel types of Italian bread!

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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Posted in Cooking, On the Home Front, Out of the mouths of babes...., working mom

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Remembering the Maine

Posted on April 5, 2011 | Leave a comment

Good morning everyone! 

I hope the thunderstorms moving through the South/Southeast yesterday and last night left you unscathed.  We did okay, I think, except for a lack of sleep on Kayla’s part that does NOT make me envy her teachers today!

The Maine Monument, Key West Cemetery

 Time for reflection is often rare these days, but while we were in Key West, Mark and I had the chance (well, really, I forced him) to go by the Key West Cemetery.  Old cemeteries, cemeteries with lots of history in them, are usually very quiet places good for reflection, and to find such a oasis of calm amid the bustle of the Historic District in the rest of Key West was a true pleasure.

We couldn’t stay long, but we were able to see the one place in the cemetery I wanted to see, which was Key West’s monument to those soldiers who died when the U.S.S. Maine exploded in the harbor of Havana, Cuba on February 15, 1898. 

As a result of the explosion, 266 men died.  The cause of the explosion remains controversial to this day, but the purpose of this entry is NOT to answer a question that is still in dispute after over 100 years, but simply to remember 266 men who died serving their country. 

Key West was the last stop the Maine had made, for refueling and obtaining supplies, before it went on to the Havana harbor.  When the ship exploded, those bodies that could be recovered immediately, and the wounded, were sent back to Key West.  About two dozen of the sailors of the U.S.S. Maine are buried in the small enclosure, and the City, at its own expense, placed the monument to them that stands there today, a sailor holding an oar.  (Eventually, an extensive recovery operation in Havana harbor took place, and many of the other dead sailors are buried at Arlington National Cemetery.) 

When we were at the cemetery, it was a perfect day, with the breeze that comes off the Atlantic Ocean and the breeze from the Gulf taking turns twisting through the trees and over the grass.  It was peaceful.  The U.S.S. Maine area of the cemetery is enclosed with a small metal fence, and there are other markers and persons buried in it, including a monument put up by the survivors of a torpedo boat that fought in the Spanish-American war to their fellow serviceman who died the year after the Maine exploded.  

So, the next time you are somewhere and two gentle winds take a moment to swirl in the grass or trees around you, stop for just a minute to breathe a prayer for the safety of all of those men and women who choose to defend their country, and one of thanks for those who were willing to serve and in doing so, paid for their service with their lives. 

Ground Marker in the Maine section of the Key West Cemetery

Finally, to all of you for today, I can wish you nothing better than that you find, at the end of your life, that the following epitaph, also in place at the Key West cemetery but in a different section, is perfect for you:  God was good to me.

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

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