"I want this to be. . .

a most excellent adventure for you. I want you to be safe, make good choices while remembering what I have taught you, learn about life and then come home!!" I tearfully said to my 20 year-old daughter this morning as she left for the long drive east towards the coast for love and life anew.

reminding her that wherever you go you take you

A Re-Posting from a Christmas Past...

Taking a break on the edge of the Eve...


to breathe in the trueness of this season and I think that this says a lot:

Are You Rich Enough For Christmas?

Are you rich enough for Christmas?
Is it tied to what you earn?
Do you feel that lavish spending
Heeds its meaning in return?
Does the money you will spend here
Spell your holiday concern?
Let's hope not!
But when friends will warmly greet you
With your same response in turn,
And your family gathers 'round you
Showing love and joy to burn,
That is all the riches needed...
That is all you need to learn.

R. Williams

R. Williams is a seasoned poet...whose work has never been shared outside of his circle of family and friends....I believe it deserves to be heard by more than a few.

anyone know an agent or two

pRESENTly disappointed

A REPOSTING from two years ago...

“There is that STUPID clock! I thought it was a guitar!” my 20 year-old son recently said upon seeing this picture...

Obviously it didn’t matter that he got a PILE of presents (SPOILED BRAT), he only remembers that he got a clock, instead of some lusted-after-but-never-divulged-to-me guitar.

Which made me think about my Christmases of past – Was I ever expecting something "special" and instead got something “dumb”?

And I am talking about childhood Christmases....because for sure we have all been disappointed as adults with a Christmas gift(picture frame with a clock in it).

The good news is...I can’t remember any disappointing presents from my childhood and remember with joy one very special present - my Kenner Easy Bake Oven – turquoise blue...

it gave me and my sisters hours, upon hours on our bedroom floor...creating masterpieces of culinary delight - cakes, pies, cookies and muffins....speaking of muffins...oh, never mind.

Last week at bible study, we were discussing how Christmas should be about simplicity, just like the first Christmas that we are celebrating.

At that study, a women stood up and shared - she spoke of the first ten Christmases of her life, her family being extremely poor - she and her siblings’ Christmas gifts were simple brown bags containing just three items – an orange, an apple and a peppermint stick.

Most children these days would view that as 10 sad Christmases....she recalled them as being MAGICAL!

So to my family, my friends and my blog buddies near and far...

my wish to you is for a Simplistically, Magical Christmas...

filled with just three items - faith, family and friends!

and the hope it never ends

Irony of Life...

Wendy and I discovered during my earlier than usual yearly check up with Dr. Patrick Stiff at Loyola Medical Center last night, that he had just returned to work after the sudden passing of his 59 year-old wife...

"Betsy Stiff took a break from her career as a hospital nurse to raise a family — and ended up with quite a brood of babies: aside from her own children, she became a foster parent over the years for 28 kids, many newborns with special medical needs.

“We would get a phone call asking if we were available to pick up a baby, and we’d drive to the hospital to pick him or her up,” said her physician-husband, Dr. Patrick Stiff Sr.

Mrs. Stiff sometimes handled two babies at the same time. “She just really loved it, she was fulfilled every day,” said her husband, who is the director of the Cardinal Bernardin Cancer Center at the Loyola University Medical Center in Maywood. “She’d walk around holding one and feeding another one in her other arm at the same time,” he said. “She did not blink at all about accepting a baby even though we may have ended a relationship with child a week earlier. She believed if it was our time, it was our time.”

Stiff, a resident of Naperville, died Nov. 23 of a brain hemorrhage. She was 59.

As well as her husband, Stiff is survived by daughters Elizabeth Lodhi, Cailin Ramirez and Stephanie Stiff; sons Patrick Stiff Jr. and Scott Stiff; two grandchildren; and two siblings."

The man that saves so many lives was unable to save his precious saintly wife.

he looked broken filled with grief and strife

Am I the only one...

who knows that when you are in a public bathroom and especially one that has a long line of stalls from which to choose from...


and you walk in and see that only one stall is occupied, you pick for your own use a stall the furthest away.

not the one right next to me okay

She gave her two week notice today…

at the restaurant she has diligently worked at/managed for over three years.

“I cannot believe your Mom is letting you go!” the owner exclaimed after she broke the news.

My daughter is moving.

Far away.

North Carolina to be exact.

I had heard rumblings that she might move for weeks before she got the courage to tell me.

Her current boyfriend went back to his home state and she loooooovvvvvveeesss him and wants to be where he is.

My daughter is moving.

Far away.

Right after Christmas.

This Christmas.

The Christmas that is just some 3 weeks away.

And there is not a ding dong thing I can do to change her mind.

So I will send her off with tears, love, many, many prayers and the ingrained knowledge that this will always, always be her home.

no matter how far she does roam

R.I.P.

Joe was the name of the co-worker that I wrote about below on November 19, 2008. Since that time our office has closed, I moved on to another law firm, but Joe, who was in his mid-60's, struggled with finding another job to occupy his time.

He was, as I wrote below, very orderly.

I don't believe that finances were an issue, so he didn't "need" to work, but Joe was an only child, with both parents deceased, never married and he had no children, so his work defined him.

I was shocked to get an email over the weekend that he was found dead (an autopsy was performed and they are awaiting results) on the floor of his house.

I pray that his soul went straight to Heaven in quick, orderly fashion.

writing that with after the fact on my part compassion

==========================================

"How come you aren't doing the mixing and scooping this morning?” I had to ask.

I am not sure why his antics bother me so much.

I should just be thankful that I don’t suffer like him.

He always works in pairs.

Two of everything.

Two cups of hot tea every morning during the cold weather – two cups of ice tea during warmer days.

Filled exactly to the same point – just micrometers below the rim.

Steeped for some precise amount of time.

Tea bags removed via spoon with the string wrapped around it and squeezed ever so meticulously until being deposited into the garbage can.

Then the mixing begins…..one cup at a time..round and round and round the spoon goes (I have never asked if he counts the twirls, but I think he does) until the “foamy” part is gathered in the center, at which time he scoops out the little bit of foam with a spoon, throws it away, rinses the spoon and starts the process over for the second cup.

“Why do you throw that little bit from the top away?” I had to once ask.

“Because it is bad.” he responded.

He then carries both of the perfectly-steeped-filled-to-the-rim-bad-foam-removed cups, one in each hand, back to his desk to be placed on the two napkins that sit in perfect alignment awaiting their arrival.

In response to my original question about how come he wasn't mixing and stirring - he was using one tea bag to make both cups (not as wasteful) so he had to let them steep longer at his desk.

I don’t know about you...but I am exhausted just writing about it and ever so thankful that I am not he.

ocd

L.F.M.T.F...

Look at these people I found wandering on Chicago's streets this week...

family fun we all did seek.

Which of course had to do with eating...

but my hour lunch time with them was very fleeting.

GINORMOUS wreaths are hung in my building's lobby for a festive look...

so this picture for you i took.

The lobby of this building is just a stone's throw away...

and although not holiday decorated it still makes me gay.

Another Chicago office building has a whimsical ocean theme to their tree...



at lunch today i excitedly got to see.

Even the bus stops are dressed in bling...



and holiday songs some do sing!

Enjoy yourselves this weekend!

says susan snippets your friend
:^)