tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20135068773458263222024-03-13T08:43:31.853-07:00Life Chapter by ChapterTerrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.comBlogger151125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-85810682394855909932021-02-16T08:17:00.000-08:002021-02-16T08:17:36.027-08:00<p> tip toe, silent wooly sock steps</p><p>peeking through a creaky doorway</p><p>into the fairy dust captured </p><p>in the sun pouring into the room,</p><p>there i was</p><p>and here i am again,</p><p>still the same, but way different.</p><p>a decade and still reaching for the </p><p>same stars. </p><p>-t</p><p>(10 years later)</p>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-17365025972002404372011-10-02T18:35:00.000-07:002011-10-02T19:21:22.330-07:00under construction...<span style="font-family:Courier New;">last year around this time i created a vision board for the first time, set my intentions with a prayer and a promise. at that time i'd figured fall was a good time to plant the seeds for change.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">come the fall, summer's efforts take a final bow in blazing glories of color. the big show before the earth takes its winters rest. on top the earth sleeps, but below life continues to happen. roots soak up nutrients, gain strength for the big "come back" in the spring.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">i look at fall as my true "new year." a time to hunker down, go within, clean my spiritual, mental and physical house and make way for something new. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">last fall, on the eve of the autumnal equinox i went to work and set my intentions on my board. i placed the board on the wall in my kitchen, the room i frequent mostly in my home. i'd like to think that it inspires others as well as me. it was neat seeing family friends stop and read my little note cards and gaze at the photos placed here and there around the board. and i think that for me it added to accountability factor - these people who mean the world to me reading my hopes, plans and dreams for the year ahead.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">i'm a little late this year in getting my board up. i've been working on my list though. for months i've been working on it. this year i'll be focusing more on health, wellness, self improvement. stillness. peace. developing a deeper spiritual life. and keeping promises to myself about writing, creating, resting. i'm going to post my list here, on my blog. and my journey. blog and life: under construction and transformation.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">this morning i read something that stuck with me all day, really hitting a mark. it was about the butterfly. these days those fluttery, gorgeous little insects are so overdone. everyone loves butterflies. but probably everyone always did. now they're just "gone commercial." anyhow, the piece that i read reflected on how when the caterpillar goes from chrysalis to butterfly it's an incredibly painful experience. for the butterfly, stretching out of that cocoon/chrysalis and moving those wings really hurts! but look at what happens...from little caterpillar to cocoon and then to butterfly, the beautiful transformation. ah...inspiration!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">i know what i need to change in my life. i know some of it won't necessarily be pleasant and sometimes might hurt. but in order to make the transformation my heart so desires, there isn't any other way. it's so worth it though.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">i have a big week ahead. catering a wedding for the first time with my sister this weekend. nervous? you betcha. but when the dust settles on this big event i'm putting my vision board, and my life wishes on the front burner. my new vision board will be up within the next two weeks. before that happens i'll reevaluate my lists, add or subtract where need be. i can't wait. but the excitement, the change, the commitment starts here, now.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">no time like the present to begin to live the life we're destined to live, no? no time like the present to give ourselves the best gift ever - attention. personal housekeeping.</span><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">ever transforming, always desiring to reach...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">t.</span> </div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-13177969620963536492011-08-01T19:04:00.001-07:002011-08-01T19:54:25.762-07:00a simple request...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijJxnz5Kn_sNCy9J_pCVIrtAolg5uOExgZFMuiqSfA4ja_iRNQ4A60U4FeFXW4G4BQeO5jJySOsF-XldXC1lycms0E_kDgM0KjxLMIfYKIzB7YRNb7IxRYEOzQn1CtDDaT7jpArGWZxQlh/s1600/DSC03863.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636083591726204530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijJxnz5Kn_sNCy9J_pCVIrtAolg5uOExgZFMuiqSfA4ja_iRNQ4A60U4FeFXW4G4BQeO5jJySOsF-XldXC1lycms0E_kDgM0KjxLMIfYKIzB7YRNb7IxRYEOzQn1CtDDaT7jpArGWZxQlh/s320/DSC03863.JPG" border="0" /></a> a simple request. cold milk. peaches. it was the last two things i heard my dad ask for. cold milk. peaches. on his death bed, in his last days, that's what he asked for. not on the same day. on different days, close between, during his last week of life. not i wish i'd scaled the himalayas. not i'm so sad i never went to maui. not i wish i wish i'd made more money or gone more places or had more stuff. nada. just cold milk. peaches.<br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div>i bought peaches a few days ago. couldn't pass them up on my trip to the market. they called me as i walked by. PEACHES. bought cold milk that day too. bought the stuff that dad asked for during his last 4 days or so. not without hardly a thought though. just bought them. i guess i could say that's "peaches and milk" in itself, no? being able to just do that?</div><br /><br /><div>as i've made my way through the "stages of grief" over the past year, cold milk and peaches reverberated through my mind. not the actual peach or the glass of milk, but the simple request. the "simple" of it. because through my dad i learned that that's what it all boils down to...the simple things.</div><br /><br /><div>the fan blowing my hair around as i write tonight, the feel of the cool air about me. looking over and seeing my husband snoozing on the sofa, the overwhelming love i have for him. an email exchange with friends today, the lifelong kind, that had me in stitches at my desk (sorry eliz, yes, between writing newsletter text i was planning that camping trip that you're going to cover for me for at the library), getting in my silly little car and laughing my ass off at how happy i am for this little new to me dream. listening to my xm station (it came with the little car) music from the 1940's which is the music of my life, coming home, watering flowers, petting the cat, reading a good book. peaches and milk, that's what it is, my life...the day to day - peaches and milk. </div><br /><br /><div>from here on, when life is the total shit (which thanks be to god, my life pretty much is) i'm just going to say "peaches and milk!" awesome, wow, holy crap, this is the shiznitz begone, it's now "peaches and milk!!" in memory of my dad. and how that's who he was, a man of simple pleasures, a man of family, a calm and gentle man if ever there was one.</div><br /><br /><div>peaches and milk...dad, that's what you were. you were the sun and the moon and everything strong and safe to me. i can't believe...i cry at the cold reality that it's been a whole big wide year since i've seen you. but i guess that's not entirely true, as i've seen you in the forest preserve when i go for my morning walk. i see you in ella's face when she says "i miss my pop pop." i see you in my sister's eyes for oh, how she so looks like you. i see you in the night sky, ever more so this summer as the crickets and cicadas sing their zizzy little songs of love. i see you, i feel your love wrap around me in the twist of the summer breeze.</div><br /><br /><div>a year. 365 days to say "this is the first" this or that without you here. but you have been, here. and those words, probably your best lesson taught yet - peaches...cold milk. the simple stuff. a summer night. my son upstairs safe and sound. my stephanie, healthy...vital, celebrating her 13th wedding anniversary this night. my lindsey, calling me to ask if she can order me a few good bottles of wine....everything i'll ever need is as simple as peaches and milk - it's all right here beside me. my family. just like my dad, it's all i need...not the fancy stuff, just this.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">been away from this writing place for a long time, </div><br /><div align="center">but all the same,</div><br /><div align="center">wishing you</div><br /><div align="center">peaches, lots of fresh sweet summer peaches</div><br /><div align="center">and a tall glass of icy cold milk...</div><br /><br /><div align="center">-t.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">p.s. thanks to katie for the nudge. i'm not a fancy writer, but i do so love the craft.</div><br /><div align="center">photo: my daddy with ella. he never said so, but i just know she was his favorite:)</div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-60155463153423522492011-03-18T13:57:00.000-07:002011-03-18T14:59:59.991-07:00special gift, special friend...<div align="center">i can't wait to share...</div><div align="center">this is one of the birthday gifts </div><div align="center">i created for my darling nancy -</div><div align="center">sister of my heart & too far away friend.</div><div align="center">her birthday was a bit over a week ago, so...</div><div align="center">BELATED HAPPY BLOGGY BIRTHDAY NANS!</div><div align="center">for my nans i knew that not just any gift would do.</div><div align="center">i wanted to make her something special,</div><div align="center">as she is so very special to me.</div><br /><div align="center">so along with a hefty supply of my homemade granola<br />(which nans refers to as her "comfort food")</div><div align="center">and a week's worth of crocheted dish cloths</div><div align="center">(a casual hint before christmas - </div><div align="center">"what i could really use are some of those crocheted dish cloths!"</div><div align="center">see nans? i didn't forget; i just hope they stay together!)</div><div align="center">i created a set of jewelry, especially for her...</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCGKvKPFS2sKWkkd_fvw3BcgXsN0XJW-TLZ-2q-qi1b-gBaEVvOiP-gTf-9x3Llo4MjPc7OPAwpixqwLTtcXnBkIUKLzYYtm7qaIhx4Mrx4zVBzWk74BjmBI1211AnyRkBzGAu0YGbQ7Z/s1600/Nans+Jewelry+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585528679121494482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCGKvKPFS2sKWkkd_fvw3BcgXsN0XJW-TLZ-2q-qi1b-gBaEVvOiP-gTf-9x3Llo4MjPc7OPAwpixqwLTtcXnBkIUKLzYYtm7qaIhx4Mrx4zVBzWk74BjmBI1211AnyRkBzGAu0YGbQ7Z/s320/Nans+Jewelry+008.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center">i've long wanted to play around with the fun vintage</div><div align="center">collections of findings, charms and such </div><div align="center">that i've spied in the craft stores, </div><div align="center">on etsy, and pretty much everywhere.</div><div align="center">so on a rainy/snowy saturday morning a few weeks back</div><div align="center">i went in search of the perfect pieces to create</div><div align="center">a one of a kind gift for a </div><div align="center">one of a kind friend. </div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19mOEzPJwu5U1njjOSCqmSoeht41w5Fg8eKJ38i2kMtjjzh_lm5bERcvnk7gXKrWq0m1Xs-zk4m7EOvC6N316s4LNJPSP5Lu-veMo72bCi3Dk3f4hUw5u_MRAqiXz3x0gpjzp3mvYCAuG/s1600/Nans+Jewelry+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585528347384879602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19mOEzPJwu5U1njjOSCqmSoeht41w5Fg8eKJ38i2kMtjjzh_lm5bERcvnk7gXKrWq0m1Xs-zk4m7EOvC6N316s4LNJPSP5Lu-veMo72bCi3Dk3f4hUw5u_MRAqiXz3x0gpjzp3mvYCAuG/s320/Nans+Jewelry+007.jpg" border="0" /></a>it was such fun matching pieces i already had<br />along with treasures i found at the store.<br />i was in heaven that afternoon in my craft room...<br />at my work table, thinking of this dear friend,<br />working on these fun pieces, an audio book<br />spinning a story for me in the background<br />(the widower's tale by julia glass - excellent story).<br /><br />i was thrilled with how the necklace<br />and matching earrings turned out.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCUTPtcfjlfrJsFDwg7yihlDr10Jpl_gHs3_npb08WJ1_KmaINWQPGkOaD90TWQX8cFbO3QwixTkZNWfWdvpayzD2gUyI6tysimFMz_fBPs-wmYbCWrC_JcoVyYgJdbnfSfoisTSk6So49/s1600/Nans+Jewelry+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585527990138678994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCUTPtcfjlfrJsFDwg7yihlDr10Jpl_gHs3_npb08WJ1_KmaINWQPGkOaD90TWQX8cFbO3QwixTkZNWfWdvpayzD2gUyI6tysimFMz_fBPs-wmYbCWrC_JcoVyYgJdbnfSfoisTSk6So49/s320/Nans+Jewelry+001.jpg" border="0" /></a> the charms are not without their meaning...<br />the heart represents our relationship.<br />we are, indeed, sisters of the heart,<br />and the bird represents flight;<br />flight as in although my nans is far away<br />this is to remind her of how i look forward<br />to the time when she will again "fly away home"<br />to me, to her book club gals,<br />all of us who miss her and can't wait for the<br />time when we're together again.<br /><br />i adore the corner of my house that's left just for me,<br />a bedroom left vacant by daughter #2.<br />it's mine now and i love it.<br />and i simply love the possibility<br />of the things yet to create.<br />when i take time, make time<br />to let my imagination take flight.<br />and what better inspiration<br />than a gift for a friend<br />who is, in turn, a gift to me.<br /><br />happy weekend...<br />-t.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-77978397869613730022011-03-17T09:01:00.000-07:002011-03-17T09:58:41.643-07:00on shamrocks and the color green...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL899pQneJqCvGdmEFCwIYA3YA9VUJqFbbRbUZWekdX5KIKFBwYxKV2yUGDW2uk8EU9O3tS8gK_R-rUYEPlPOBGLOU2t0B5jAhOvoJ1UV36OupM0P_abDZX83M7VRTKmthgNC1Mx5eDNrx/s1600/irish-shamrock-4%255B1%255D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585088746169988098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL899pQneJqCvGdmEFCwIYA3YA9VUJqFbbRbUZWekdX5KIKFBwYxKV2yUGDW2uk8EU9O3tS8gK_R-rUYEPlPOBGLOU2t0B5jAhOvoJ1UV36OupM0P_abDZX83M7VRTKmthgNC1Mx5eDNrx/s320/irish-shamrock-4%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>funny, isn't it, how on st. paddy's day we all feel a bit luckier wearing a bit of the green? there's not an irish bone in my body, but i feel it too - a touch of luck for me courtesy of the tiny green crystals that accompany the silver shamrock accessorizing my otherwise blah all black outfit today. i wear the necklace in honor of my gram - elizabeth shirley mccauley milanich. does a name get any more irish than that? well, except for the milanich part, which is serbian and courtesy of my gramps.</div><br /><div></div><div>my gram was as irish as the day is long. red hair with a gorgeous natural curl, deep blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles that made her only that much more lovely. beautiful, really. because of my gram, i can't get through a rendition of "danny boy" or "when irish eyes are smiling" without a good cry. for my gram was that - a true irish rose with eyes that smiled like no other.</div><br /><div></div><div>i've a few facts to share today on the wearing of the green...legend has it that the custom was born with the color of the shamrock. st. patrick himself was said to have used the leaves of the shamrock to teach about the trinity - the stem representing one divine nature and the green leaves are the three persons which comprise that nature; father, son and holy spirit. i like that idea, what it symbolizes.</div><br /><div></div><div>another explanation for the wearing of green on st. paddy's day dates back to the 18th century. the irish were said to have worn green in an attempt to remain invisible to leprechauns. i guess the story goes that the little guys were color blind when it came to green. leprechauns had the stinky little reputation for pinching people, did you know that? me either. but if you wear green, they can't see you, therefore they can't pinch you:)</div><br /><div></div><div>on the flip side, some folks say that the green is actually thought to be the leprechauns <em>favorite</em> color, therefore considered to be an unlucky color in ireland. an irish bride would never be caught wearing a stitch of green on her wedding day!</div><br /><div></div><div>so there you have it. i guess either way - whether you're wearing green or not - beware of the pinch of the leprechaun. ha! with that, on this gorgeous st. paddy's day in chicagoland (where temps are expected to be in the mid 60's), i leave you with, what else?, an irish blessing...</div><br /><div></div><div align="center">may your blessings outnumber </div><div align="center">the shamrocks that grow</div><div align="center">and may trouble avoid you</div><div align="center">wherever you go</div><br /><div></div><div align="center">wishing you the luck of the irish,</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">-t.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">p.s. corned beef, cabbage and a hearty loaf of rye are what's for dinner tonight.</div><div align="center">i can't wait!</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-34898654494991181862011-03-16T07:41:00.000-07:002011-03-16T08:45:55.922-07:00notes on lent and the blessing of a good friend...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YaqFDk587LNHwsYOV5Je-_ZitPGrKZrpuDSQbAf4dk5VLZH8UBD1LgMoYhwdeqc3kVLzYUo7_QMLHPk50WU2xbLLYEy4TLiwyxqiwd77GlE2dFrGuz2FC9hsteYtNPDzggH1X5JMF9D9/s1600/November+11+in+the+Forest+Preserve+027.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584703468349109570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4YaqFDk587LNHwsYOV5Je-_ZitPGrKZrpuDSQbAf4dk5VLZH8UBD1LgMoYhwdeqc3kVLzYUo7_QMLHPk50WU2xbLLYEy4TLiwyxqiwd77GlE2dFrGuz2FC9hsteYtNPDzggH1X5JMF9D9/s320/November+11+in+the+Forest+Preserve+027.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>there's nothing quite like a having a friend that you can share your faith with. someone to discuss the wide open range of heavenly things and how they apply daily to our lives here on earth. i'm lucky enough to have such a friend. her name is carolyn and if i had a dollar for each time i've said to her "i'm so glad we met," well...i'd have enough for a plane to ticket to somewhere, that's for sure.</div><br /><div></div><div>we met over a shared sandwich. well, we weren't sharing the same sandwich actually. we weren't even sharing the same table. i was sitting with a few friends and carolyn was at the table next to me. i happened to notice that carolyn was eating the same sandwich as i was - a "to this day memorably delicious" panini with warm, savory goat cheese, apricot preserves and almonds tucked inside. i've yet to recreate this sandwich, but it's on my list, none the less.</div><br /><div></div><div>at a break in the conversation at my table i leaned over and said to this stranger, "isn't that the most delicious sandwich ever?" she started with a laugh (which has since become music to my ears) and whole heartedly agreed with me. that gave opening for carolyn to ask me about the conversation we'd been having - books, book clubs, etc. her best friend having just moved out of state and across the county, carolyn was in particular need of the company of friends - a group to become a part of, and had also had a long expressed interest in becoming a part of a book club.</div><br /><div></div><div>not one to leave anyone on the sidelines of life, i eagerly invited carolyn to join us for book club and long story long, she's been a part ever since. not part of just one book club, but of all three that i lead at the library. i'm happy to say that in the time since, we've become dear friends as well. friends who share interests, hobbies and above all else, a strong and abiding faith.</div><br /><div></div><div>last christmas we became "advent buddies." carolyn found a little booklet of daily scripture readings and devotions which led us through a month long celebration of the season of advent. the shared experience lent a much deeper meaning to christmas for me. i truly needed that, the "more" part, as it was the first christmas where my dad would be watching it all from heaven.</div><br /><div></div><div>since then, and in the weeks leading up to lent, carolyn and i both agreed that we'd like to progress from "advent buddies" to "lent partners." again we went in search of a method of study, a booklet to guide the way. find one we did, and we are now on our individual yet together subsequent lenten journeys. we haven't discussed the "what we're giving up" part of lent, not on purpose but pretty much because it just hasn't come up. and that's not what's most important, i think, about lent. people get so hung up on that part and fail to dig deeper into the true meaning of repentance, of giving up, of letting go.</div><br /><div></div><div>turning away from, confessing, admitting to things which cause us to stumble. things which hide our true nature, and in turn cause us to hide from god. and to have a season in which to come clean - repent, be renewed - isn't that the greatest gift? to sacrifice, to be made new, to draw ever closer to a loving god that gave everything he could possibly give - what more could i ever ask for? nothing. absolutely nothing. my life is a gift. and carolyn is a gift, a friend to share my faith with. a friend to ponder life's ultimate questions with. who is honest, loving and of such integrity. and her laugh, heavens...her laugh. if only you could hear.</div><br /><div></div><div>on that day, at the restaurant, i opened up to a stranger. not an accident. there are no accidents where god is concerned. and through opening up myself to carolyn, god has opened himself up to me in a way i've never experienced. through advent, through lent, through ways yet unknown to me. and through the musical laughter of a good friend. </div><br /><div></div><div>his ways are marvelous, they are mysterious, they are perfect in every sense. and they are right for me. for that i live my life as a prayer, in gratitude.</div><br /><div></div><div align="center">his love,</div><div align="center">his peace,</div><div align="center">may they be your's...</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">-t.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">photo: early pre-spring morning in the forest preserve:)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-25257103981128418632011-01-20T11:15:00.000-08:002011-01-20T11:35:01.396-08:00Lost in thoughts of you...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIwTLoC_ekZ5mNcxm6Ycvs8LAEnlM5_B6u987FkmPWRVGR59-nidxC3SaTCopyY09N1h62qp0h3AmpSWHG2YD7Ior3h-f3ZzJrKEde88Cz0vLxQ1qtk0nAl3s_S93hUz2L-Dvs3lKsgXg/s1600/snow%255B1%255D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564353127805947634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIwTLoC_ekZ5mNcxm6Ycvs8LAEnlM5_B6u987FkmPWRVGR59-nidxC3SaTCopyY09N1h62qp0h3AmpSWHG2YD7Ior3h-f3ZzJrKEde88Cz0vLxQ1qtk0nAl3s_S93hUz2L-Dvs3lKsgXg/s320/snow%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center">today i <span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><em>wish</em></span> there was a place i go could<br />where i would see <span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><em>you</em><br /></span>your gentle, loving, father face<br />not like the <span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><em>last time</em></span> i saw you<br />but maybe a month before that<br />when you were in the car, ready to go<br />and we were talking, even though mom<br />had the car running and exhaust fumes<br />clouded our conversation<br />i can remember how<em><span style="color:#66cccc;"> <span style="font-size:180%;">your face</span></span></em> looked<br />in conversation with me<br />and after you left, i’d wished i’d taken<br />that conversation more seriously.<br />‘cuz<span style="color:#66cccc;"> <em><span style="font-size:180%;">i had a feeling</span></em></span> about that conversation,<br />that day, seeing you enjoy your family,<br />playing with tyler and ella<br />oh, the look on <span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><em>your face</em></span> that day<br />the next time i saw you there was worry<br />mixed with pain and exhaustion<br />but even still, on that day,<br />we had a little bit of <span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><em>conversation</em></span> and<br />i cooked for you and you said<br />“honey, this is so good”<br />i guess that’s my fear, dad, that i will forget...<br />your face, your loving eyes<br />and the <span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><em>gentle</em></span> sound of your <span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><em>voice</em></span>.<br />for just one moment,<br />i just wish i could hear your voice again.<br />for this moment, in my desire to see you<br /><span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"><em>i look up</em></span>.<br />my eyes fixed on heaven.<br />my worry abates.<br />the sound of <span style="font-size:180%;"><em><span style="color:#66cccc;">your voice</span></em> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">fills</span> my mind.<br />music, to my ears.<br />“there’s a new dawn for me”<br />you told me and i know<br />you’re home, but you’re here too,<br />watching me, listening, <em><span style="color:#66cccc;"><span style="font-size:180%;">guiding</span> </span></em>even still.<br />and today, like so many days since you’ve been gone,<br />i want you to hear me say,<br />i love you dad.<br />like my heavenly father is with me,<br />i will <em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;">never</span></em> let you go.<br /><br />-t.</div><br /><div align="center">this post went right from heart and onto the page - no editing, which probably shows -</div><div align="center">but sometimes i think we need to do that. just let it spill. say the words. feel the emotion.</div><div align="center">today i do, feel a lot of emotion, and this is my healing. </div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-1147623061465328472011-01-18T15:18:00.000-08:002011-01-18T15:26:07.439-08:00January writing promp..."I used to think..."<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXhrS0Y1znqf-QEd0322gzU_7wJzdpOzNu_Sy253lgBILVqvvZWj2Mqvh2ED6AZXpGy6ZshyBBzfO1gWmYIQqxylv-MWBtA5D8AppdAyvjhU-2qhrAHpo4srTPaGvotc6njZFNOLXXcJj/s1600/Snowy+Febrary+9th+2010+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563671030753257810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXhrS0Y1znqf-QEd0322gzU_7wJzdpOzNu_Sy253lgBILVqvvZWj2Mqvh2ED6AZXpGy6ZshyBBzfO1gWmYIQqxylv-MWBtA5D8AppdAyvjhU-2qhrAHpo4srTPaGvotc6njZFNOLXXcJj/s320/Snowy+Febrary+9th+2010+007.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />When I was young, I used to think that I had the power to compel people to change. I thought that if I loved hard enough, believed enough and prayed my guts out I’d have the ability to make change happen. In addition, my immaturity had me believing that change was easily rendered. I gave so little concrete regard to change in its true context, treating it as little more than a word, a wish, a prayer – change for myself and change in others.<br /><br />I’ve grown though and always, isn’t life the best teacher? Similarly, through intense study and discussion (with my amazing women’s group), I’ve come to appreciate the true essence of change. I’ve gained insight into the fact that change and the power to do so resides only in the individual. No amount of wishing, hoping, “gently” manipulating or controlling will bring about change in another.<br /><br />These days I find that I’m reminding myself often that the only one I have the power to change or to control is me. Expecting anything more than that is futile – wasted energy, wasted time. When it comes to dealing with the expectations of new outcomes, I look right in the mirror. And in dealing with people in my life that I have a difficult time with, that’s were I begin. That’s where I go – inside myself, with keen awareness that although I can’t change situations or the behaviors of others, I do have that control in how I react.<br /><br />Transformation is impossible when applied to things which are out of my control, but when I apply it to me, transformation, change, is limitless. Sounds simple, but from a gal who has been known to be a bit of a control freak for the better part of her life, it’s not, hardly. But in identifying and understanding my lack of control regarding others I have found such peace. Likewise I’m finding that the change I was so hoping for tends to happen by osmosis – either I see things more clearly, or in a different way, or I remove myself from the situation or the individual I’m at odds with. And too I tend to give things to God and let him pick up where I leave off in frustration.<br /><br />“Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Mahatma Ghandi’s quote dances ‘round my mind often. It’s not an easy practice, but with practice I’ve experienced an enormous sense of liberation - liberation from worrying about things and people I can’t fix – liberation from worrying about things and people that aren’t my business to fix. These days I’m minding my own business. Being the best that I can be and just letting go. I’d like to think I’ve become a better person for it – a better wife, mother, sister, and friend. I love, I pray, I let go and I let God. And you know what? In the end things work out exactly the way they were meant to be without any help from me.<br /><div></div><br /><div align="center">Change is good, change is real. </div><div align="center">Change happens when we're willing to do the work.</div><div align="center">On ourselves, that is.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">striving to do better, everyday...</div><div align="center">-t.</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-81283409765361433612011-01-10T07:40:00.000-08:002011-01-10T08:00:43.588-08:00<span style="font-family:courier new;">although i've been quiet on the blogging front, as always, i think about writing. and when i think about writing, i think about writing as an inspiration. to me. to whomever reads me. i'm over my head with inspiration as this new year breezes in. inspired to be better, do better. in 24 hour increments. not take the whole "resolution" gig 20 pounds at a time, or 3 closets (of organization) at a time. but just day by day. some days i'll celebrate a bit more success, and other days not so much. but i won't beat myself up over it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">i know what i want for myself, and i intend to have it. my buzz word for the promises i've made to myself is "nonnegotiable." nonnegotiable as in, that's the deal - no excuses - you can't go back on the intentions you've set. i just keep thinking about that word, and the impact its had on me. nonnegotiable. this is it. i am so worthy of the agreements i've made with myself. you are too.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">i get shivery happy at the promise of the dawn - 24 hours of new possibilities. 1,440 precious minutes to live in the moment. make positive choices for myself. to love. to smile. to be happy. to rejoice and give thanks. and to work, to go in the direction of my intentions.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">my huz said it again just the other day when we were out walking - "i can always count on you to put a positive spin on things." that's me, as best i can i'm pretty positive. and i'm positive about the promises i've made to myself. the intentions i've set for myself in this new year. with each new day i'm positive that i'll keep those promises.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">how are you doing with your promises? have you given up on yourself? don't. you deserve to live the life of your dreams. just take it a day at a time, and realize how lovely you are and how you so deserve your heart's desire. no matter what it is, if it's for you, then it's worth working for.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">woo, heavy for just being back on the page. this is one of the things i want to do better at too. daily blogging. always, i'm all the better for it when i do.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">wishing you lovely things</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">today and all the year through</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">one day at a time:)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Courier New;">-t.</span></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-29823628672616967422010-12-10T05:04:00.001-08:002010-12-10T05:46:59.696-08:00Library closed...I'm really excited about heading off to work today. Wait...I'm pretty much excited about that EVERY day - but, well...today's different. Today our director is conducting a staff institute day. A day set aside for training, updating, etc. And quite frankly it's pretty much my favorite work day of the year.<br /><br />You see, I work with the best group of people. Honestly, the staff at my library are some of the most interesting people I know. They're people I really like to be with. Sound weird, uncommon, when one's referring to their co-workers? Maybe so, but for me this is just one more blessing in my life.<br /><br />My husband was telling me last night that the company he works for is concerned about the rapid rate of employee "turn around." People come, people go - and quickly. Not so where I work. People come, people stay. And for a LONG time. One of my co-workers was telling me yesterday that with the stress in her life at home she couldn't imagine not having the library to go to each day. Can you imagine?<br /><br />What's the secret? People. People coming together in a place where they have common interests - books, music, films, information, knowledge. Libraries are the coolest places around. And we're so lucky - in our library we even have a place for everyone. Teens, adults, kids - goodness, our children's department is the most kid friendly place ever. My kids are grown and on their own now but when they were little, even though we lived in the district of another "award winning" library down the street, I ALWAYS brought my kids to Wauconda Library. It's the best.<br /><br />When it comes to people, I also mean the people who walk through the doors each day - our patrons. Neat people, honestly. We're lucky too that our little community totally embraces and really USES the library. The place is like Grand Central Station pretty much most of the time. A local organization recently did a survey in our community; neighbors were asked to name the spot where they go for recreation and fun. Guess what everyone's favorite was? You got it - the LIBRARY!! Imagine that, a building that holds books, and SO much more.<br /><br />The schedule for today is a visit to the new Fox Lake Library. We'll meet their staff, have a tour, and scour their collection. It's so good to have an opportunity to do this - travel outside our own front door and see how someone else does it. Compare and contrast, so to speak. I'm pretty excited to see this new library and happy too for the citizens of Fox Lake. They were long overdue for an updated library.<br /><br />After the library visit we're having a staff lunch. And can I tell you how fun it is to sit and dish with the people I work with? We're a family, that's the way I see it. The afternoon will be spent at our own library, and it's always weird to be there sans patrons. Strange, really. We'll be doing staff training, listening to speakers, etc. The day will end with a "state of the library" address by our director. I always look forward to this too. He'll speak on where we've been, where we're going, and how we can better serve our community.<br /><br />Do I sound like a dork, being so happy and excited for this day of bibliotecha bliss? Probably. I've been a library geek my whole life long and it's served me well. Books, books and more books. Another form of heaven entirely.<br /><br /><div align="center">Books do a brain good.</div><div align="center">Try a book today:)</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Luv,</div><div align="center">-t.</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-36816583323327442152010-12-08T11:55:00.000-08:002010-12-08T12:02:53.103-08:00Heaven is a place...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7CsSCWduYyW_uZviEkue7mYzzUSgg443D6-zn7ypUQpXlM-FE5bCnfRr4fxHMHLUVihfhUxzODuQ7Ca6b4Vg8xK1W1rUJoc38bjfr-QuN8b-GyI9dF4ko8_8lujmYMYWgUk1q8-vbCDo/s1600/heaven%255B1%255D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548403934713291522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7CsSCWduYyW_uZviEkue7mYzzUSgg443D6-zn7ypUQpXlM-FE5bCnfRr4fxHMHLUVihfhUxzODuQ7Ca6b4Vg8xK1W1rUJoc38bjfr-QuN8b-GyI9dF4ko8_8lujmYMYWgUk1q8-vbCDo/s320/heaven%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>When the cold chill pain of losing my dad sets in, I immediately work to re-route my thoughts. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes not. There are times when only tears will do to wash away the sadness of his last days. At least this was how I had been thinking until it dawned on me today (as I sat working away my desk, Pandora radio plugged in to classic Christmas music) that I should be happy. Celebrating actually, for my Dad. This is his first Christmas in Heaven! </div><br /><div></div><div>All along, while he was so sick and slipping away from us day by day, I leaned on my faith. I spent hours praying over my dad - for God to take him home. <em>With dad</em>, as his witness as he yet again recommitted his heart to Jesus. I know beyond the farthest shadow of a doubt that my Dad's in heaven. </div><br /><div></div><div>In the grips of losing someone we love, it's easy to rest on the mere "notion" of Heaven. It gives us comfort to think, imagine a better place where our loved ones will be welcomed home and be set free from suffering and illness. But in reality, do we really "believe" in heaven? Why only rest on Heaven's promise at the most crucial moments? </div><br /><div></div><div>In mourning my Dad, missing him and feeling bad that he's not here with me, I'm going to focus on where he is IS - Heaven. How could I possibly be sad for him when I know (as a child of God) the promise of Heaven and eternal life?</div><br /><div></div><div>He's there, my Dad's there - in Heaven, at the most precious time of the calendar year. The most celebrated time in Heaven. Christ's birth. He's there for the party! And that's what this daughter is going to focus on in the days to come - my Dad, truly in heaven. Gosh, can you imagine?? Yay Dad! Yay God, for His mercy. His grace. For the promise of the cross. And for Heaven...free to all who believe. And my Dad did. I was his witness. That was his final gift to me, and the best one he ever gave.</div><br /><div>Celebrate today, but don't forget to plan for tomorrow.</div><br /><div></div><div>Blessings,</div><br /><div></div><div>-t. </div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-60064519615014960722010-11-17T14:11:00.000-08:002010-11-17T14:23:44.644-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyfKLjwoavNSXjvX6_wYdkvRnP5phAkZ8kLiGOtnqmlgUVX2on1mCbCDx_feQPnLOz7-sbaLUI4f-b3c4J2Z7KMf7zQaK5HXV_oinSanJLw3obnc1F2E-xULJsrgTu5O1SWdNbuKv0iiy/s1600/November+11+in+the+Forest+Preserve+084.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540646659540586882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDyfKLjwoavNSXjvX6_wYdkvRnP5phAkZ8kLiGOtnqmlgUVX2on1mCbCDx_feQPnLOz7-sbaLUI4f-b3c4J2Z7KMf7zQaK5HXV_oinSanJLw3obnc1F2E-xULJsrgTu5O1SWdNbuKv0iiy/s320/November+11+in+the+Forest+Preserve+084.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="left">Color me a bad blogger. I say that because I recently read on another blog that “a good blogger blogs everyday.” So I guess that makes me a bad blogger. That also makes me guilty of wanting to do so many things, far more than I have time for in a day. And I’m sure that also places me in good company.<br /><br />The company of you, the company of us. Sisters with a full plate. The alarm clock in the morning sounding off like a pop gun at the starting line of a race. If we listen closely we can imagine a voice from a make-believe press booth yelling out over a crackly PA system, “Annnnddddd she’s off!!” And we are, off and running. Our day a race, the finish line too far in the distance to be visible.<br /><br />Breakfasts, lunches, work, exercise, jobs, dinners, dishes, laundry, home care, childcare (though not for me, I’m past that but I am happily committed to helping with my Grand Beans whenever I can). Our to-do list agendas for one day could easily fill two or more! Where to find time to be creative? To write, stitch, photograph, scrap, paint, daydream, sing, dance...?<br /><br />In the little moments, the times in between. We just have to seek, find, and sometimes create that time. It’s so important, vital to who we are and who we’ve yet to become. Time to read. To sit and crochet. To make bread (yep, I’m a crazy bread maker. I cringe when I have to resort to buying it – all this thanks to that “Artisan Bread in 5 minutes a Day" book I’ve been telling you about).<br /><br />Not only do we have to create time for ourselves, but also we need to make it a priority. Because all work and no play can leave us feeling flat. Uninspired. I hate feeling that way.<br /><br />I’ve taken to traveling with my crochet bag, wherever I might go. I make no apology for crocheting at family gatherings or in groups of people. When I’m sitting among people I take out my hook and yarn and stitch away, delighting (and participating too) in the conversation around me. I find the act of working with my hands while being stimulated by the talk of kindred spirits which surroudn me to be blessedly gratifying, heaven almost. I can’t think of a better way to totally relax and be at peace.<br /><br />I seek time for lots of little hobbies – jewelry making, creating art journals (with decoupage – it’s really fun!), crocheting, creative writing, doing a little stitching here and there. And my number one hobby – cooking. I usually have time for that one as one must eat, you know? But I seek to make time for the other things too. I want to be better about that. It’s my play time. I need it. You do too.<br /><br />Whew...long winded on this delightfully gray (contradiction I know, but I love rainy days) Wednesday afternoon . But it was fun, using my “break time” for “write time.” Ah...onward toward the finish line. Only 6 more hours to go before the day’s race is through. And there I’ll be happy, tired, and thankful for the legs which carried me through my day.<br /><br />Blessings... </div><br /><div align="left">-t. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">photo: shot in the forest preserve on a recent frost morning. Often, when asked "How are you" my father in law will reply, "Fine as a frog on a frosty morning." I love that. <br /><br /></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-83365209940051727802010-11-08T07:07:00.000-08:002010-11-08T07:32:56.572-08:00it's written in the stars...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKOJiWAZLt2-_OhllO86euZeZJzzWSqEfDYAXn0lCPV310RUZuFUtcRWcABm_3jGFIx22150DwcMwp-UHC3S3lEbeAlKtwDNGpyReRgii0RMR9Ew-YmdgsXxM1jqrzRSfSLZ1t7iXGZ6wP/s1600/photopisces%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537200833470893986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKOJiWAZLt2-_OhllO86euZeZJzzWSqEfDYAXn0lCPV310RUZuFUtcRWcABm_3jGFIx22150DwcMwp-UHC3S3lEbeAlKtwDNGpyReRgii0RMR9Ew-YmdgsXxM1jqrzRSfSLZ1t7iXGZ6wP/s320/photopisces%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><br />My horoscope for November 8, 2010:<br /><br /><em>The time has now come for you to undertake more difficult tasks. </em></div><div align="center"><em>Indeed, the stars incite you to use the day to your </em></div><div align="center"><em>advantage, Terri. You are full of life, and you should use this </em></div><div align="center"><em>energy to show the world what you are capable of! </em></div><div align="center"><em>Today, you will not be afraid of any work to be done, </em></div><div align="center"><em>and you will also have the capacity to recover your strength afterwards.</em></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">The stars are spot on for me this morning as I've lots to do</div><div align="center">at work this week. Winter programming text to write, two </div><div align="center">book discussions to prepare for in addition to three other</div><div align="center">programs scheduled for the week - a diabetes program for</div><div align="center">seniors, a fun jewelry class and a concert scheduled for </div><div align="center">Sunday - a program honoring the music of 'ole blue eyes,</div><div align="center">Frank Sinatra. </div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">In between the responsibilities of the work day, my BFF's </div><div align="center">in town, so I'm hoping to squeeze in a wine date with her</div><div align="center">(in addition to the martini date we had yesterday, which</div><div align="center">I hope to blog about tomorrow). Add to that a visit later today</div><div align="center">with another dear friend and her new little baby girl, a shopping</div><div align="center">expedition with my sissy on Wednesday evening and a fish fry</div><div align="center">dinner date with the huz and yet another tre' dear friend and her huz too</div><div align="center">for Friday and a WAY TOO FUN "author party" on Saturday</div><div align="center">night - a first for me and also for my sweet friend who has</div><div align="center">planned the fun evening and I've got another full week ahead of me!</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Work, home, friends, family...that's the way it's been for me lately. A</div><div align="center">constant stream, busy but completely in balance. Well...maybe </div><div align="center">the "home" part's been a bit neglected lately, but "home" is undergoing</div><div align="center">a bit of pre-turkey day renovation and things are a bit upside down </div><div align="center">for the time being. But no worries. About the time things slow down</div><div align="center">a bit (am taking Thanksgiving week off - YAY!) I'm planning to slow </div><div align="center">down a little bit too. For a few days anyway; long enough to get the</div><div align="center">house squared away for holiday entertaining. Come turkey day though</div><div align="center">hoopla returns. I can't wait - Thanksgiving's my fave holiday, hands down.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Whew...long winded this morning. Didn't mean to be! I've got work to </div><div align="center">do and time's a wasting! And just so you know, it feels so good to be</div><div align="center">back to blogging again. I really missed it! There's so much I want</div><div align="center">to share with you in the days ahead.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work I go...</div><br /><div align="center">Happy Monday!</div><div align="center">Luv</div><div align="center">-t.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Photo: Pisces constellation over desert skies. How cool is that?</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-61708820864052724152010-11-06T05:15:00.000-07:002010-11-06T05:42:28.825-07:00carpe diem...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStkYFJiOnQBphkZEtv1J78QcygpYHO39WcUCch_d7f6Qh9fN1N6ir4nhdgNgHb_gUEalGr5Io8IWeDF_SVezu-SirkJDWcRfwokOcRNR6ULCZGDGF_jr7dk7YQDAjvzQiTTPZ9_yWrssv/s1600/Summer+2010+155.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536414641075859106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStkYFJiOnQBphkZEtv1J78QcygpYHO39WcUCch_d7f6Qh9fN1N6ir4nhdgNgHb_gUEalGr5Io8IWeDF_SVezu-SirkJDWcRfwokOcRNR6ULCZGDGF_jr7dk7YQDAjvzQiTTPZ9_yWrssv/s320/Summer+2010+155.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">seize the day</div><div align="center">for whatever the day brings you.</div><div align="center">it's saturday</div><div align="center">a day to get things done.</div><div align="center">or not.</div><div align="center">whatever it is that's on your to-do list to-day,</div><div align="center">do it with love.</div><div align="center">because its on YOUR list</div><div align="center">and that's important.</div><div align="center">cleaning the house today?</div><div align="center">consider it showing the love</div><div align="center">giving care to your surroundings.</div><div align="center">heading to the market?</div><div align="center">buy yourself something special -</div><div align="center">a little pint of ice cream, some chocolate...</div><div align="center">you deserve it.</div><div align="center">spending the afternoon on the soccer field with your kids?</div><div align="center">drink it in -</div><div align="center">whistles blowing, parents cheering,</div><div align="center">the wide blue sky above you</div><div align="center">shining down upon you...</div><div align="center">its all yours. today.</div><div align="center">or maybe spend the afternoon curled up on the sofa</div><div align="center">reading a good book or watching a movie.</div><div align="center">why not? and if you're looking for a good book,</div><div align="center">check out the list on the right. </div><div align="center">i've some wonderful suggestions for you!</div><div align="center">i've got my list today too -</div><div align="center">a trip up to the farm for the last of our chickens.</div><div align="center">free range, organic - i've never tasted chicken such as this!</div><div align="center">this year i ordered a turkey from the farm too - a big guy - </div><div align="center">we're picking him up too along with our hog from the farm.</div><div align="center">a whole year's worth of food for the freezer - what a blessing.</div><div align="center">this afternoon i'll be attending my niece's 5th birthday celebration;</div><div align="center">a day of family, food and fun.</div><div align="center">as i write my little grandson is snoozing away upstairs,</div><div align="center">an impromptu sleepover - the best kind!</div><div align="center">my little guy will wake up to the scent of fresh bread baking in the oven -</div><div align="center">no, i'm not a diva - the recipe is so, so easy and it comes</div><div align="center">from one of my VERY favorite cookbooks:</div><div align="center">"artisan bread in 5 minutes a day"</div><div align="center">by jeff hertzberg and zoe francois</div><div align="center">(while you're out today stop by your local library </div><div align="center">and see if they have it - you'll love it!)</div><div align="center">life is good, and what makes it so are the things on our lists.</div><div align="center">the little to-do's that comprise our daily lives.</div><div align="center">i'm happy for mine and i hope you are too.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">happy saturday dear reader...</div><div align="center">-t.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">photo - my grandbeans, tyler and ella</div><div align="center">who are ALWAYS at the top of my list:)</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-47889002215361315372010-11-04T07:28:00.000-07:002010-11-04T09:22:47.658-07:00a kick in the pants from mom...<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQ3PH5i8PjqGyr5I2P-3SXthLRxSW9QEBsDxTkwS4YyvOYcXyAbq1iWdLmz-d0zAFxehrh9mrJl9GulsRMrKqMpzAU52eS4opvg2Js8cxQaIwU7nNitcHmEezgxyfdU5Uf7vizvi1mCrm/s1600/old-clock-face%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535705410024852338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQ3PH5i8PjqGyr5I2P-3SXthLRxSW9QEBsDxTkwS4YyvOYcXyAbq1iWdLmz-d0zAFxehrh9mrJl9GulsRMrKqMpzAU52eS4opvg2Js8cxQaIwU7nNitcHmEezgxyfdU5Uf7vizvi1mCrm/s320/old-clock-face%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />You need to get back on your blog.<br /><div align="center">You inspire a lot people.<br />I hope you get back to it soon.</div><div align="center">We all miss you. </div><div align="center">Love, </div><div align="center">Mom </div><div align="center">xoxo </div><br /><div align="left">This was the first email I read when I opened my inbox this morning. Okay, I don't know about the inspiration part - if that's the case then I'm uber humbled. But what I DO know is that I totally miss spending time here. Writing. Reading other blogs I enjoy. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I don't know how it happened. How I managed to let ALL of October go by with nary a word or whisper from me. One of my favorite months of the year simply breezed past me, probably you too. Funny thing is, I think about blogging every day. Many times a day, as a matter of fact. Ideas for blog posts multiply in my mind, but time gets the best of me and those ideas fade, never making it to the page.</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Gosh I hate how time flies! That thought was running through my head as I drove to the library this morning. October, November, December...my very favorite time of year. And once those months are over we seem to be in a rush to have it be summer again. I wondered, what to do to make a day feel longer? How to put the brake pedal on our clock of days?</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Awareness. I believe that's where the answer lies. In being aware, as best we can, of every living moment of our day. Looking in the mirror at our sleepy selves in the early morning and saying outloud"hello world, what do you have in store for me today?" (note: sounds crazy, but I do it. everyday.) And then paying attention all day long, 'til night time falls upon us once more. Then taking out that gratitude journal and listing our blessings, thinking back on what the day delivered.</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Minute by minute, all the hours of the day. Just being aware of how time flies. Forcing ourselves to savor the moment...</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Whew...thanks Mom! Thanks for the wake up call! And thank you, for meeting me here. Please know that I do not take that for granted. And if it's okay with you, I'd love to share November with you. Right here in blogosphere:)</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="center">Blessings,</div><div align="center">-t.</div></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-73035629016131541282010-09-21T14:18:00.000-07:002010-09-21T16:28:03.892-07:00Beads of faith...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnFGM82ihlf2DFz2-WLwvjDGylglW6c5VRqtt24jJYyJsY9xeZgkg90vtMfx6twBu6J3dn5VJJ5X60RBEQY94Tmr9RB-kMowKMwQAbEjwEQkabaQWuqqpdppDm7xOZ2jxKSeDB5XscxZqc/s1600/BA581%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519512506716051202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnFGM82ihlf2DFz2-WLwvjDGylglW6c5VRqtt24jJYyJsY9xeZgkg90vtMfx6twBu6J3dn5VJJ5X60RBEQY94Tmr9RB-kMowKMwQAbEjwEQkabaQWuqqpdppDm7xOZ2jxKSeDB5XscxZqc/s320/BA581%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIDVDImsfYXUayze6irK0EPq2-WwJjUWtijziLvITNAjNYGCIGohjbZpZgYvb4NZwqIZm-BipZOxOvqgPlEWc298kzinSnieLWec-LLzf8X9-psx0FaXZAwKevdRmbRrC1SKSfB60tsLVD/s1600/HolyRosary-005%5B1%5D.gif"></a><br /><br /><div>Pinch me, pinch me I say to myself this beautiful Tuesday. Am I simply dreaming this perfect day into existence? Though it didn't start out that way for me. This morning's pre-awake sweet dream was interrupted by the whisper of my inner voice saying, "it's time girl, get at it."<br /><br />I've been working at keeping my thoughts regarding today's to-do list on the "sunny side up." Today was the day meant for routine maintainence health testing - all that girly crap. A day I dutifully mark on my calendar, dreading it but at the same time thanking my lucky stars that I have good doctors and insurance to match.<br /><br />Grumbly though, that' s what I was at the sound of the NPR announcer's voice - my wake up alarm. And I shouldn't of been grumbly, especially considering my 21 day pledge to remain "complaint free." (See my current reading) The minutes following multiplied into an hour and before too long I was out the door, audio book in tow for the ride to and from (again, see current reading list - The 19th Wife - shocking!!).<br /><br />As I sat in wait from test to test, three to be exact, crocheting away my complaint, I was taken by a woman sitting close by. A few minutes before she sat waiting with her daughter, who appeared to be close to my own age, 50-ish. Her daughter at this time was undergoing her test. As I sat stitching my eyes lifted toward the woman's mother, singular now as she awaited the return of her daughter. I couldn't help but be taken at the movement of her lips, silently mouthing prayers being counted off on the rosary wrapped around her fingers.<br /><br />The woman's face held no worry. Her expression was one of will, of faith. Prayerful, obviously. And I couldn't help but feel blessed myself, sitting so close to one so deep in prayer. With everything going on around us, we were two people alone in faith - her for her daughter and the power of prayer, and me in gratitude for being right there, right then. Again, I was reminded of the importance of being in the moment. If I hadn't been, then I would have missed it.<br /><br />After my test battery I headed home to prepare for the rest of my day. A one to nine shift at the library. Writers' group tonight. A two hour stint at the reference desk during the "witching hours," from three to five - the harried two hours between "school's out" and dinner time. All the while, once more I find myself enmeshed in the thick of what's going on around me.<br /><br />Life in a library at the busiest time of day. Life in a library at any time of day. In my book (pun intended) the library's pretty much the best place to be. Everything happens at library, just open a book! And I once more I was filled with gratitude...for my job. That I get to spend my day in a library. Be with library people - patrons and staff. If I could have said it out loud I would have, "Thank you God for letting me work here, in my hometown library, right here, right now, with all of these people all around me."<br /><br />A simple day in the life...but so damn rich. What joy I found today in my surroundings. Sharing a laugh with the lab techs (it's laugh or cry and I always choose to laugh). The woman with the rosary. Oh how I pray her prayers are answered. And tonight after work I'm heading to my daughter's. She'll have popcorn and a bottle of wine ready. For the second week in a row we're having a "tv night." We're both hooked on the new Showtime program The Big C. If you haven't seen it, you should. There's a mighty message inside this smart little "dramedy." Live for the moment. Look around you. Grab your joy, don't let anyone or anything steal it away from you. And for me the greatest joy is in the world around me, as it happens moment by moment.<br /><br /><div align="center">All in all, a very good Tuesday.</div><div align="center">Hope yours was too.</div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center">-t.</div><br /></div></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-25884898899341532512010-09-13T09:03:00.000-07:002010-09-14T03:31:38.805-07:00"you alone are enough to face the sunrise..."<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjilvDBKiJQmk7W8Bf0j3qudxFEA5vT0-9I_bbjc6kzkF9weStXPbYoc3eBw0qv2JVzfIEnEoNORuZh9tL32Tervgz6VRy0IwdZHPRLKOcU7UVRnL3itFUmCsE7xiOPwjhImEa9DL9pAqIb/s1600/untitled.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516435824808597922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjilvDBKiJQmk7W8Bf0j3qudxFEA5vT0-9I_bbjc6kzkF9weStXPbYoc3eBw0qv2JVzfIEnEoNORuZh9tL32Tervgz6VRy0IwdZHPRLKOcU7UVRnL3itFUmCsE7xiOPwjhImEa9DL9pAqIb/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>experience is the greatest teacher...wow, how i know the truth in that statement. i think of the ebb and flow of this summer, of the past year of my life. all i've been through and who i've become as a result. had i not experienced the pain, frustration, uncertainty and doubts which have landed at my feet over these past 12 months of my life, i wouldn't be who i am today. and i like who i am today. i like the stronger, more certain me that i've become. i like the heights i'm reaching for and knowing that they're attainable, reminding myself that i'm stronger at carving out new paths because of the uncharted ones i've traveled these past months of my life.</div><br /><div></div><div>years ago i worked diligently on a cross stitch sampler. worked on the project for a year. stitched into the design were the words, "each dawn is a new beginning." i framed the finished sampler and gave it to my parents for christmas that year. that piece has come to mean so much. to them. to me. the sampler sits in my basement now, awaiting a spot on the wall of my mom's new apartment. i happened by it as we were moving her in last weekend. </div><br /><div></div><div>"each dawn is a new beginning." the words reminding me that change is inevitable. that dark nights bring bright dawns ~ sunrise and the promise of a new day. a fresh start. and like making it through an unsettling dream on a stormy night, we gain strength and clarity with the light of a new day. </div><br /><div></div><div>the dawns of the last 365 days of my life have, with each 24 hour period, made me stronger and more sure of who i am and the decisions i've made. i don't doubt them. and i don't doubt me. i no longer doubt my strength or my ability to make it through tough times. those times are going to come again, that much i know is true. but i also know what's to be gained by muddling through adversity. with a wing and a prayer we make it through. into the light of a better day.</div><br /><div></div><div align="center">wishing you the sunrise,</div><div align="center">all the day through...</div><div align="center">-t.</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-49619882461203201692010-08-23T07:44:00.000-07:002010-08-23T08:09:20.758-07:00hello again...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNgYfNvON-zWQSlMTnrAjOxKdI2JvggDhX1Z5tAdEZsmp25FNDwA82Nrs6bPbsCJR4ct1H4X_G8s97yEZ3xJ15WkjBfmDrJ1UrGT_I2bL3EqbcxBu8ddmwszg15yXAWdO09IUynEaiEFo/s1600/woman-running.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508621593926719762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNgYfNvON-zWQSlMTnrAjOxKdI2JvggDhX1Z5tAdEZsmp25FNDwA82Nrs6bPbsCJR4ct1H4X_G8s97yEZ3xJ15WkjBfmDrJ1UrGT_I2bL3EqbcxBu8ddmwszg15yXAWdO09IUynEaiEFo/s320/woman-running.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>girl. it's so good to see you again, coming out from under that wide umbrella which has sheltered you from your stormy summer. looking into your eyes i can see that you've changed a bit. your curves have softened. your eyes see deeper. and listening, do i detect a stronger beat to your heart?</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>strong girl...stronger than you'd ever imagined you could be. happy girl, hungry to grab hold of your days once more. reaching girl, knowing that that road behind you has prepared you well for the uncertain journey ahead. running girl, not running from but running to...the life that is yours. </div><br /><div></div><div>arms flung wide open you run under the sun with the wind as your partner. strains of music long gone unheard fill your heart and soul with joy. at the finish line which is also a starting line your bittersweet tears welcome you home. back to you. fresh from the journey with new stories which tenderly reveal themselves in the way you now see the world.</div><br /><div></div><div align="center">hello again friend.</div><div align="center">you. me.</div><div align="center">i've missed you.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">luv,</div><div align="center">-t.</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-12798672867916880082010-08-18T07:49:00.000-07:002010-08-18T08:11:32.824-07:00a daughter's tribute...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QBHmEqjtmztZSB3o34aEBCz5MM7j7iw14Z0VzHs9UeKQXntUpHss21xR47chi7aVyiu8jgz89hqIImGIwzTbcrmC1VMlVDh5T0Odu2NHf9t0QtPV_-M-weffi9PwMKGyoaMWBkwGXTXB/s1600/Dad+on+the+beach.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506766991742077410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QBHmEqjtmztZSB3o34aEBCz5MM7j7iw14Z0VzHs9UeKQXntUpHss21xR47chi7aVyiu8jgz89hqIImGIwzTbcrmC1VMlVDh5T0Odu2NHf9t0QtPV_-M-weffi9PwMKGyoaMWBkwGXTXB/s320/Dad+on+the+beach.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em>It's been a time since I've posted. Circumstances surrounding the illness and passing of my dad have kept my mind tangled and time for writing simply non-existent. What follows is the remembrance I wrote and read at my Dad's memorial service. I've had many requests to share this piece, and so I am...sharing it with you. I also hope, now that my life is a bit more steady, to be here more. Writing and sharing life with you...</em><br /><br /><div>To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world. These words were stenciled on the wall behind the sign up desk at the hospice home where my dad spent the last two weeks of his life. To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.<br /><br />Words read daily, by my mom, my sister, my niece, me…all our family who came and spent time with dad during those last precious days. Those words danced around my mind as I sat in contemplation, pouring over the life that was my dad’s in preparation for this moment. Because that’s what my dad was, the world, to my mom, my sister and I, to our family. It’s with great pride as Larry’s daughter to share the world that was my dad’s life with you today.<br /><br />My dad’s life was a testament to the power of the spirit to withstand and conquer challenges. Many of you may not know that my dad spent the better part of his childhood living in an orphanage in the city. Dad was placed, along with his brother Bob, in the orphanage when he was three years old and remained there until the age of nine. I can’t help but think that the courage he showed later in life fighting his many medical battles was forged during the formative years of his childhood. Learning to survive, believe, endure and carry hope for a better day.<br /><br />After Gram and Gramp were married they moved to Grayslake, my dad and Bob in tow. Two more brothers would follow – Rick and Randy. His teen years, at least, found him finally at home, living life as should be promised to any child – with his mom and dad and his brothers by his side.<br /><br />My dad graduated from Grayslake HS in 1956. Shortly thereafter Dad and his HS buddy Jack Kordt stuck out their thumbs and hitchhiked their way to Southern California via the original route 66. They left with little more than $40 between the two of them and a nose for adventure. After a month in California they made their way back to Grayslake, again, courtesy of their thumbs, broke except for their memories of a wild and wonderful time which I know for sure was one of the best times of my dad’s life. He cherished those memories and the memories of good times and great friends his whole life long. Such good friends he had, ones who remained close to him even up to the final days of his life.<br /><br />A short time later my dad met his dream girl, my mom, while working at Abbotts. Not only did she catch his eye, she caught his heart as well. The good looking guy with the classic 50’s flat top and his model bride tied the knot in June of 1959 and celebrated over 50 years as partners in marriage. Ups, downs, all-arounds – two young kids with barely a nickel to their name, my parents made a beautiful life together, working their hardest to provide my sister and I with the things that they never had.<br /><br />In his younger days my Dad held many jobs in an effort to earn a few nickels to rub together. Gas station attendant, MdDonald’s fry cook, you name it, he did it. His<br />passion though was the printing industry and my Dad made a life long trade of it. For many years he worked as a pressman. I’ll never forget the times I visited my dad at Munder’s in Zion when my dad worked on that monstrous four color press – all by himself running this thing which was a little bigger than a single car garage. Even now occasionally when I crack open a catalog from the mailbox I breathe in that smell – ink, paper, press – and it takes me back. One of the many scents I associate with my hero, my dad.<br /><br />He held many positions in an industry which changed so drastically throughout his career. From pressman, to litho stripper and on to production and management, my dad was the hardest working man I knew, often times working two jobs to support the needs of his family. Not just my mom, my sister and I, but often helping out his parents, my mom’s folks, and their brothers and sisters. If a soul was in need, my dad would do his darndest to lend a hand or a few dollars to help out, always teaching, always showing by example to his daughters, and to our entire family, how to live a live of purpose.<br /><br />One point which bears mention is that my sister and I were lucky in that we lived with parents that never said no to a pet. My dad gave a nervous nod to our pleading eyes when the question “can I keep him?” came up. Gold fish, tropical fish, one darn cat, many dogs, gerbils, hamsters, and even a goofy growling, laughing mynah bird who’s favorite phrase was “oh blank, I lost my cigarettes again”…we had it all. And it was fun. After flying the coop, my sister and I were replaced with generations of shi tzu’s – and boy did my dad love them. Not only did my parents keep this silly little loveable breed as pets, they showed them too, on the national level, going so far as to raise two grand champions. These days they’re down to one, but for many years you’d be greeted by as many as a half a dozen little shi tzu faces when you walked in their door.<br /><br />Throughout the years my dad enjoyed so many different hobbies. As a child I can remember when he and my mom would spend endless hours as the archery range down in Waukegan. He loved that sport. I used to love to just sit and watch him line up that sight, steady his aim and eye his target. I can still hear the arrow snap free from the bow and remember how proud I was that this was my dad. From archery, bowling, fishing, coin collecting and downhill skiing, to stained glass work and even crocheting (yes Caity, pop pop was hooked for a time too) my dad was a pretty passionate guy. And don’t even get me started on how he loved his computer!<br /><br />My dad’s biggest hobby though, was cooking. Dad was the cook in our family and we were all the luckier for it. For my bridal shower years and years ago it was my dad who put together the entire menu – a classic ladies luncheon from appetizers to homemade desserts. I’ll never forget it. And when my dad made a cake, it was an out of the ordinary, soaked in brandy, homemade fruit filling, travel to a few different stores for ingredients kind of cake. He approached all his culinary endeavors in just such a way. In turn, my sister and I delighted in cooking for my dad. The final test of our efforts came with a taste from my dad. He’d take a bite and we’d look at him and say “well??” There<br />were only two answers to that questions – it’s okay, or very good. Each and every time Cyndi and I reached for the “very good” response, knowing for sure that if it was “okay” then something was missing. Very good was an A, it’s okay was a C.<br /><br />My dad’s greatest passion though, was his family, my mom, my sister and I, and the families we’ve created. How he loved his grandchildren, his great-grandchildren. Back in healthier easier times, my dad didn’t miss a beat with his grandkids. He took such pride in watching my son play years of football and I know those are memories that Nick will carry for the rest of his life. How I wish he could have seen Nick play lacrosse, watch Michael on the baseball field, see Caity cheer her way to state championships. Health complications may have prevented him from physically being there, but the kids always knew for sure that their pop pop was with them in spirit.<br /><br />I want you to understand what an honor I consider it to be, to speak about such a loving, patient, kind, gracious man, my dad. And how my sister and I take such pride in being Milanich’s, carrying our dad’s name in a whisper beside our now married names. Just how much it means to me to stand before you and share the life that was my dad. All my life my dad has taught me, guided me, even to his final days, teaching me things about myself, about courage and about faith. In all my life as his daughter I can honestly say that the time I cherish most are the last few weeks I had with him. Holding his hand, telling him how much I loved him and how proud I was to be his daughter. Even witnessing to him and sharing our faith. Praying over him, with him, knowing that in my life I have been truly blessed in having him for a father. Realizing that everyone who knew him was blessed in a way just by calling him son, husband, brother, pop pop, uncle, brother in law, friend…<br /><br />Years and years ago my dad, my sister and I used to sing a silly little song over and over. The song started out with the words “you remind me of a man, what man?” Cyndi knows what I’m talking about. To you dad, I just want to say it one more time…you remind me of a man…what man? The man with the power…the power to touch lives, to live with courage, to fight the brave fight. And now you live in victory dad…in our hearts and with God’s promise that at the end of the battle he comes to take us to a better place. Home. Where our heart is free.</div><br /><div></div><div align="center"><em>realizing that i think might just have lived</em></div><div align="center"><em>one of the most memorable summers of my life,</em></div><div align="center"><em>and that i am all the better for having lived it.</em></div><br /><p align="center"><em>loving life,</em></p><p align="center"><em>-t.</em></p><p align="center">p.s...photo is of my dad on the beach in North Carolina.</p><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-21069252718475583012010-07-27T13:44:00.000-07:002010-07-27T14:53:10.258-07:00tuesday, and all is well...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVETrlJSA1-YhZeGvKTu6nlUN-j2uEApQxEfwyptPiAIZszR7zA_vUJXx9WmMb5rZ028On9QxAUwmxeEoLDr-aN6248nv7ZrWB0799Rm_hghUxSAni4yD3Zu7ehK6DlAFXxtOn8qpBbrs/s1600/2631516525_44b1511a6e%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498705527998089810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVETrlJSA1-YhZeGvKTu6nlUN-j2uEApQxEfwyptPiAIZszR7zA_vUJXx9WmMb5rZ028On9QxAUwmxeEoLDr-aN6248nv7ZrWB0799Rm_hghUxSAni4yD3Zu7ehK6DlAFXxtOn8qpBbrs/s320/2631516525_44b1511a6e%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">a morning cup of coffee</div><div align="center">the buzz of cicadas whirring through</div><div align="center">the screen above my kitchen sink</div><div align="center">wrapping sandwiches</div><div align="center">securing my lunch time salad</div><div align="center">with a snap inside a container</div><div align="center">fresh local blueberries on top of my yogurt</div><div align="center">the delicious scent of my husband</div><div align="center">as i kiss him out the door and into his day</div><div align="center">sunshine reflecting in water drops</div><div align="center">resting on the leaves of my freshly watered garden</div><div align="center">rainbows reflecting in water spray</div><div align="center"> as i allow myself a few</div><div align="center">childlike moments to play with the hose</div><div align="center">tucked into my colorful cube at the library</div><div align="center">i bury myself all the day long</div><div align="center">ordering books, books and more books</div><div align="center">lists left long unattended </div><div align="center">while i muddled through the murky waters</div><div align="center">of the past 6 weeks of my life</div><div align="center">a call from the doctor</div><div align="center">today is a fairly good day for dad, he reports</div><div align="center">i'll take it - if only for a moment</div><div align="center">for those "good times" are so rare</div><div align="center">as i sip my tea the afternoon through</div><div align="center">the little yogi tea tag reminds me to</div><div align="center">"be happy so long as breath is within you" </div><div align="center">and i am, happy</div><div align="center">for this blissfully, so far perfect</div><div align="center">absolutely normal day</div><div align="center">my very favorite kind of day</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">i happened upon this pretty little prayer</div><div align="center">and though to share it with you...</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">"normal day, </div><div align="center">let me be aware of the treasure that you are.</div><div align="center">let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart.</div><div align="center">let me not pass you by in the quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.</div><div align="center">let me hold you while i may,</div><div align="center">for it may not always be so."</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">wishing you the profound peace</div><div align="center">tucked quietly inside</div><div align="center">of a perfectly perfect normal day...</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">-t.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">photo - sharing more "tea tag wisdom" with you:)</div><br /><div align="center"></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-70194423963872860232010-07-23T12:44:00.000-07:002010-07-23T13:55:22.069-07:00"it is a great thing to know the season for speech and the season for silence..."<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEDnorpqEZCCpN55cxtaiLw99RLY40yZML1nAFzMsxcGUP9dICoJ-RkApAu0yjLjKvvQCV9MlrN2WjrNjpEMaDPlVx5_XcU-jMr-ejn6Vl4HqA_Df8TxfDGQkt-S5tV9iPYb8vpV-Gy9e_/s1600/woods-2-paths.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497202735028849202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEDnorpqEZCCpN55cxtaiLw99RLY40yZML1nAFzMsxcGUP9dICoJ-RkApAu0yjLjKvvQCV9MlrN2WjrNjpEMaDPlVx5_XcU-jMr-ejn6Vl4HqA_Df8TxfDGQkt-S5tV9iPYb8vpV-Gy9e_/s320/woods-2-paths.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div align="center">i find myself upon a crossroad</div><div align="center">to the left are words unsaid</div><div align="center">unnecessary, futile</div><div align="center">seemingly important only to me,</div><div align="center">a voice that longs to speak,</div><div align="center">express, to be understood</div><div align="center">to the right is silence</div><div align="center">quiet, peaceful, calm,</div><div align="center">a voice which begs to be still</div><div align="center">and rest in knowing</div><div align="center">that a thousand words can be spoken</div><div align="center">in a moment of quiescence</div><div align="center">in the wind a gentle voice whispers</div><div align="center">"stay to the right"</div><div align="center">and i follow</div><div align="center">understanding that </div><div align="center">for every time there is a season</div><div align="center">and this is my time </div><div align="center">to be still</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">listening, learning, and leaning on faith...</div><div align="center">-t.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">quote: Seneca (5BC - 65AD)</div><div align="center">Roman dramatist, philosopher and politician</div><div align="center">who also said,</div><div align="center">"difficulties strengthen the mind as labor does the body"</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div></div></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-52298941514064232402010-07-22T07:58:00.000-07:002010-07-22T09:30:28.952-07:00unpredictable currents...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyF2-JN-xhFCJosWBS5WMIOl1Tc0-O-BOwhyphenhyphenkr2g9f5fN7LA3VoYIwYNzx8VR41xq498RYAYFdobbFc2rryla-PUJHEXA5muMt6LAthFtTJslA-bWBwBScv3qP0NHWBv_r2ZcPF-NHiZY/s1600/GZFUD00Z%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496768508494948674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyF2-JN-xhFCJosWBS5WMIOl1Tc0-O-BOwhyphenhyphenkr2g9f5fN7LA3VoYIwYNzx8VR41xq498RYAYFdobbFc2rryla-PUJHEXA5muMt6LAthFtTJslA-bWBwBScv3qP0NHWBv_r2ZcPF-NHiZY/s320/GZFUD00Z%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a> Right now I'm at a time in my personal life which bears recording. Experiences, conversations, feelings that at a distant point in the future I just know I'll want to remember. Curiously though, I find words allude me. In attempting to record these last days of my fathers life - my emotions, my scattered thoughts - my pen falls silent. Paralyzed actually. It's said often, "words cannot express," and for me right now this is true. <div><br /><div>Words just cannot express what the mind and the heart go through when you're in the process of losing a parent. My Dad. My rock, my whole life long. His pride in me is something that I've never taken for granted. Oh how much it meant to me, each time he said "I'm so proud of you. You've done a good job." For the rest of my life I'll know that, and that will be enough. To know that I led a life that made my father proud.</div><br /><div>These days I'm learning so much about myself. Things I'd never of known if not for this experience. I like to think that my Dad is still teaching me, as he has done all my life. And that even when he goes from me, the lessons will continue. Thus far, the most important lesson I've learned is that I'm far stronger than I'd ever figured I'd be when it came to this. To losing him. To letting go. And it's not only my earthly father who has blessed me with this strength, but my heavenly father. My heavenly father, who takes over now as he calls my Dad home.</div><br /><div>A few days ago a friend reminded me that "God doesn't give us more than we can handle." When I considered what I've been through with my daughter last month, and now this with my Dad, I thought to myself that God's sure showing a lot of confidence in me. My prayer is that I won't let him down. I can handle it. I am strong.</div><br /><div>More wise words...my cousin reminded me that in troubled times you have to "let go of the shore and float with the stream." That the river knows where it's going. That if I clung to the shore I'd get hit with debris. Lessons...lessons this proud daughter is learning by simply living the life I have right now and accepting the course of the river.</div><br /><div>I can't think of any other time that I've felt this close to God, where the "thin space" seems to be at its thinnest yet. And I can't think of any other time that I've been filled with such a unique sense of gratitude. Though times have been tough, I wouldn't have traded a minute of it, reminding myself that that which doesn't break us makes us stronger than before. I believe this as its proven true for me time and time again.</div><br /><div align="center">This moment, this time,</div><div align="center">and everything within it,</div><div align="center">for this, I am even now being blessed.</div><br /><div align="center">Love,</div><div align="center">-t.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-50290318571006038992010-06-29T05:20:00.000-07:002010-06-29T05:59:58.976-07:00"For in the dew of little things, the heart finds its morning and is refreshed..."<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5T7YYweAVRdYv9hZlJfKxh5f0noQo_VSPU79B2t6e_Hj5wcq7tjDFI5NXIFXOlRkkkKqLeB4MxIMhl99_RwKHRQhv2UyIUGLeekoEumhCX0WimOlSOQlfES6z2X5zC5cO5hAc3p99H7l/s1600/Chicago+Fireworks+and+country+drive+095.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488178694751100514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5T7YYweAVRdYv9hZlJfKxh5f0noQo_VSPU79B2t6e_Hj5wcq7tjDFI5NXIFXOlRkkkKqLeB4MxIMhl99_RwKHRQhv2UyIUGLeekoEumhCX0WimOlSOQlfES6z2X5zC5cO5hAc3p99H7l/s320/Chicago+Fireworks+and+country+drive+095.JPG" border="0" /></a> What a gorgeous morning. Birds singing me through the yard as I wander from garden to garden. Giving the raised veggie beds, flower pots and squash plots along the front walk a hearty drench. Even the skeeters left me alone this morning. Well, sort of. Let's say I managed to get through my watering routine with a little less hassle than what's been the norm most mornings so far.<br /><div></div><div> </div><div>My heart's a bit lighter this morning too. All the worry over my daughter's health is ebbing now, blessedly. She's on the mend which has my whole family breathing a bit easier these days. With the relief which washes over me I can't help but think of how grateful I am that her condition was something that could be fixed. Not cancer, not a life sentence, but a heart defect which with the aid of a surgeon's gifted hands was fixed in a matter of an hour. Whew...what a blessing! Of course there's recuperation time involved here, but not much more than that.</div><br /><div></div><div>And oh, how incredibly grateful my family is for the outpouring of support from friends. Since this whole episode began four weeks ago tomorrow my daughter's family has been well fed thanks to the love and support of friends. Her friends, my friends; amazing women who stepped right in when the going was tough. And the meals are still coming as she grows stronger each day. Just as Stephanie and a friend were saying goodbye after a visit near dinner time last night a car pulled up in front of her house. The driver rolled down her window and yelled, "Are you Stephanie? I've got dinner for you tonight!" It was my friend Jan. Steph gave a little laugh and said to her friend, "This happens a lot around here lately."</div><br /><div></div><div>So today I'm happy to have my life back to near normal. This morning I welcomed waking up slowly while catching a whiff of coffee brewing down in the kitchen. Putting together breakfast and lunch for my husband, my son and I. Classical music pouring through my kitchen along with the sounds of the birds coming in through the window. Pouring another hot mug of coffee and heading out to the garden, stealing some time in my backyard paradise before I head to work.</div><br /><div></div><div>And being back at work, a job I love so much. Thanking my lucky stars that I get paid to spend my days in a library. "If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need." Cicero said it a gazillion years ago. I quite agree, and am feeling so utterly grateful for having that and oh so much more. The normal everyday stuff which makes my life complete.</div><br /><div></div><div align="center">Wishing you a perfectly wonderful Tuesday.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">luv,</div><div align="center">-t.</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-40429917960210099902010-06-17T19:54:00.000-07:002010-06-17T20:28:55.561-07:00momentous occasions...28 years ago today i gave birth to a beautiful child. i call her my "long, brown child." my daughter, lindsey dyan. the huz and i just returned from celebrating with her. she's playing in a pick up, fun volleyball league at a local place where they have some pretty sweet outdoor sand courts, complete with those cheezy light up fake palm trees. <br /><br />her friends were there. high school friends. this was the child that hung around with the notorious "wrong kind." funny though...as it turns out these kids have made mighty fine lives for themselves, our amazing daughter included. and they all stick together. are there for each other, no matter the what or why.<br /><br />wonderful too is the way these kids embrace my husband and i. parents who stayed together, stuck it out. provided a firm foundation during the turbulent times our daughter weathered. we love these kids, and i'm pretty darn sure they love us too. i can tell. <br /><br />on the way home my husband and i, as we usually do, count our blessings for how close we are to our children and how close they are to us. we recognized too how our maker knew exactly what he was doing when he brought us together. we're parents, don and i. that's what we were made for, what we're cut out to do. we know that about each other just as much as we know it about ourselves. i know beyond a shadow of a doubt that one day it just so happened that HE said "you, my child, are a mother" and so it was.<br /><br />and so it is. because it's a work night, we left before our son arrived to celebrate with his sister. we left, along with our daughter stephanie and our son-in-law matt. headed home for a before 10 lights out. or as close as we could make it. (and it's funny...a little earlier, my son in law matt-steph's huz- made sure to order a wine for me and when the waitress asked "and who is this for?" he answered "my mom." frickin million dollar words, no?) <br /><br />and now i know that right about now our son nick is arriving there to celebrate his sister's birthday, after working about a 14 hour day, no lie. the kid's a workhorse, just like his dad. and he's with lindsey, along with her friends, and her wonderful husband who we love, along with our other matt (as this one's a matt too, both matthew patricks - isn't that a hoot?). <br /><br />a very close family. a family that has withstood the test of time. a marriage, the huz and i, that has weathered the most severe of storms. and we celebrate because through it all we have rested on the deep and true abiding love we have for each other. a true marriage. a family. in the purest, most honest sense of the word. <br /><br />i don't care about much else in the world except this, my family. my husband, our children and the families that they've created. life's pure riches. tonight, on the ride home with my husband, the wind blowing wild my hair through the windows of our pickup, i gazed upon the fire flies glowing in the fields. like candles lit in church. only not seeking answers to prayers, but lit in gratitude for abundant blessings. before walking in the house i gazed up at the sky, the beautiful perfect moonlit sky, took a deep breath and exhaled a deep sense of gratitude. i know i write about that a lot, gratitude. but i am. grateful. for my life. for all the challenges we currently face. and knowing that with the love that surrounds me, i can make it through. with the love of my children and the wonderful man i share my life with. sometimes it's just all so big, you know? <br /><br /><div align="center">summer night's air blowing through the window</div><div align="center">touching my face in velvet whispers</div><div align="center">and me, feeling mighty fine.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">luv,</div><div align="center">-t.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">p.s. nans, i miss you like hell. miss my best friend, dammit!</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2013506877345826322.post-73011559889222312492010-06-11T13:49:00.000-07:002010-06-11T14:08:13.653-07:00quoting john keats...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz6Ldq0Ysah5Sna79ACMLLTaKN2uu1_3TOSpLV7QDItZxgiD-5jkz8uGvHeBYnclvfiYfGr-dMnZ8GZFcy0-_E8AyelNKpxcPiaR1F0-LWWZm4VE-i3AVH8H0dhM6y9Zi_-3ZnQyncyb3J/s1600/Sedona+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481625044410657330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz6Ldq0Ysah5Sna79ACMLLTaKN2uu1_3TOSpLV7QDItZxgiD-5jkz8uGvHeBYnclvfiYfGr-dMnZ8GZFcy0-_E8AyelNKpxcPiaR1F0-LWWZm4VE-i3AVH8H0dhM6y9Zi_-3ZnQyncyb3J/s320/Sedona+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">"i scarcely remember counting upon happiness - </div><div align="center">i look not for it if it be not in the present hour - </div><div align="center">nothing startles me beyond the moment.</div><div align="center">the setting sun will always set me to rights -</div><div align="center">or if a sparrow come before my window</div><div align="center">i will take part in its existence..."</div><br /><div align="left">feeling mighty passionate about life, the upside down and right side up of it. and blessed. looking forward to a really good weekend. tomorrow morning i'll meet with my new earth book club gals - truly the most amazing women i know - all of them. the afternoon brings celebration - my niece caity's high school gradutation and all the excitement of her impending college plans. </div><br /><div align="left">gathered together with supportive and god's honest true friends. a felicitous family celebration. good food. simply the best conversations, all around. quality time, quantified. perfect recipe for a satisfying weekend. a fine break from life's nine to five. </div><br /><div align="center">living in the now</div><div align="center">and in the knowing</div><div align="center">that now is the best place to be...</div><br /><div align="center">wishing you your favorite kind of weekend.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">-t.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">p.s. photo...sunset on the sonoran dessert in arizona on my last evening there</div><div align="center">trying to keep hold of that sedona state of mind:)</div><div align="center">its a good place to be</div>Terrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17115352656811708045noreply@blogger.com0