tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34331503788733737692024-03-05T15:49:12.843-08:00Cindi's Worldlizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-70669332920152278172013-01-16T17:30:00.001-08:002013-01-16T17:32:00.928-08:00Death in the familyWhen we are children, our parents are big and strong people who tell us where to live, how to live and are supposed to keep us safe.<br />
When I was a young child, I knew how to babysit my two brothers and sisters when I was less than ten years old (there were five of us born in six years), make a screwdriver from vodka and lemonade, and had gone to 13 different schools before I went to high school.<br />
My father and mother were always fighting, making up, and fighting some more. I remember the bitterness, the over-the-top making up.<br />
Now that I'm so much older than they were by the time they had divorced after 25 years of marriage, I have a different perspective than I did even a few years ago.<br />
I look at this picture of them, younger than my grown children, married, with a baby on the way (me), and I see two kids. They didn't know what they were doing, but, I think they did their best.<br />
Just over a year ago, my mother passed away. We had made peace with our past trials and tribulations and I had made plans to see her in the spring. She died that November, calling my name when I spoke to her by telephone before she died. There was no time to get there, no other way to say good-bye.<br />
A few months ago, I found out my father, who had moved to California, with his second wife, was in a hospice unit. Apparently his health had declined after my stepmother passed away. I reached out to him, and it was very moving, and sad. He never wanted to talk about what was wrong with him. Instead, he told me he remembered me as a sweet little girl. I sent him pictures of his great granddaughter.<br />
Now, like my mother, he is gone.<br />
His stepdaughter is making all the arrangements for him. You see, she's spent more time with him than I did. Although he had met my children, he never spent time with them. Her children were his grandchildren. When his second wife sent pictures, there he would be, with "their" grandchildren in matching sweaters for holiday pictures. It was strange, like a family I had, but, have never known. I had met Leslie, my stepsister, briefly, while she was still in college.<br />
We learned of his passing, from her. She called one of my sisters.<br />
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So now, they are both gone. I'm sad. But, in some ways, he's been gone over half my life.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-59237576725062186812013-01-12T12:27:00.001-08:002013-01-12T12:28:51.690-08:00Clutter, clutter, toil and troubleI may not be a prolific poster, but, I've continued on with my mission of decluttering my life and home. I discovered a nifty trick for my clothing closet. I had tried organizing by type of item, color, etc., but, nothing seemed to stick. Then, on a whim, I decided to put together several outfits and hang them together. I quickly found why some things never seemed to get worn - the usual of poor fit, nothing to go with, out of style, or just didn't really like it after all. Those items went in a couple of big ole bags and out to bless someone else's closet. Then I put together ten nice outfits for work on one side of the closet and my jeans and sweats on a shelf on the opposite wall. Something interesting happened - I like it! I hang the outfit for the next day on a hook inside my closet, before I climb into bed. No fuss, no muss. When I get home, off goes the nice work outfit, and on goes the comfy clothes. <br />
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I've actually worn some things for the first time, or as a different put together outfit for the first time, and have discovered new favorites! I think it works because I'm not desperately digging through baskets and clutter trying to find my jeans or a top to match my pants............<br />
I haven't worked through my whole closet yet, but, it doesn't seem as overwhelming as it did. It's a habit I hope to keep.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-53968620653698811512012-10-07T17:54:00.000-07:002012-10-07T17:55:16.964-07:00A New Goal!It it is past time for a new goal in my ongoing battle with clutter.<br />
So, here it is!<br />
Come August 18th, next year, which happens to be my birthday, I will have my craft room in the room that now holds the balance of my clutter. The old carpet will be ripped out. The useless corner closet will be torn out, the window will be professionally replaced. I will patch and paint until the years of childhood that marked, scarred and dented those walls, will not be erased, but, tidied, softened. I think of colors and decor as I drift off to sleep.<br />
Because, I've learned, that if I plan, and focus, and picture it done, it will be (with alot of really hard work!).<br />
I have continued to thin out, declutter, donate and shed as much as I can on a weekly basis. I've donated clothing, furniture, lamps, books and dolls. The funny thing is, once it's gone, it is really just gone - not missed or mourned. <br />
Now, this is the toughest part of the road. Because, these are the things I've not yet been able to part with. The survivors of multiple purges. But, there is just too much stuff.<br />
I don't always have the motivation, the energy or the time I would like. Today, I decluttered a bookcase that had become a catch-all in one of the downstairs rooms. It was a small project, but, one I could accomplish before going in for four hours of work in the office, today.<br />
Tomorrow, after work, I hope to work on my messy upstairs hall.<br />
Stay tuned!lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-24447074605311192162012-04-23T17:43:00.001-07:002012-04-23T17:43:51.172-07:00Letting go of angerI've always read that forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, but, never understood what that meant, until a few months ago. My parents were divorced, and their marriage was one of constant upheaval while I was growing up. I finally had to break away from the dysfunction, or drown in it. It was a lonely choice, but, a relief, in time. I tried to stay connected with my far flung family, and for the most part, did, with many bumps and hurt feelings along the way.<br />
Then, my mother's health began to fail, and I realized that there was no more time for hurt feelings or anger. I had already realized that, although their best made me feel sad, lost and frightened as a child, that it was still their best. Over the years, I had to finally let go of the past, to go forward in my own life. Not an easy thing, since I am a ruminator, from a long line of those who lived their lives shadowed in the past. But, I chose to let go of it all. Did it really matter? When my mother was gone, would I wonder what else I should have said or done?<br />
So, I wrote her a long letter and let it go - accepted my part in our ongoing misunderstandings and asked her if we could just let it go, and love each other now. She accepted, and all too soon she was gone. But, my comfort, now, is that we found peace in our relationship.<br />
Then, my father, who had even a more tenuous relationship with me, lost his wife (my stepmother, who was a very nice woman), and then became ill.<br />
So, across the miles, I wrote him a letter, again, letting the past go, and telling him of my sadness that we aren't closer.<br />
Today, I received a lovely letter. It seems, that we too, have a late chance to remind ourselves of a relationship we once had, in better moments.<br />
I know I could have held on to my angers and hurts of the past, but, love opens so much more in life. I am fortunate to have a much better relationship with my grown daughters, and the Friday afternoons I spend with my granddaughter are magic (I drive an hour one way to babysit for her after fitting 40 hours into 4 1/2 days - worth every minute and every mile).<br />
I hope my children have much happier memories of their childhood, and I try really hard to not let misunderstandings and anger grow between us. The joy of sharing in their lives is worth every minute of effort. Because, facing the end of my life someday, I hope they will be there, laughing and sharing memories of what was good in our lives.<br />
So, forgiveness is something that I have given myself, and letting go of anger has opened my heart and soothed my soul. The past can't be forgotten, perhaps, and we should learn from it. But, it should never be the anchor that wears us down and drains us.<br />
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<br />lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-30592096749918355092012-04-18T17:37:00.000-07:002012-04-18T17:37:39.142-07:00The ongoing battle with clutter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQDB9gPlkFi9Z8yAL8O4dSrJ8A7tWyPnRHi6JqRjl05EsWVoMGW3gRkKvvZ_r1Y90ookHXBRBnXttsvjnwWMloGdzw5AnRS3snOP-uKj9O8eJG0RRFEitykt0HlXirRjjmCGdcYfTbcE/s1600/462535_387328594625765_100000458844386_1332600_1938111894_o+%282%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQDB9gPlkFi9Z8yAL8O4dSrJ8A7tWyPnRHi6JqRjl05EsWVoMGW3gRkKvvZ_r1Y90ookHXBRBnXttsvjnwWMloGdzw5AnRS3snOP-uKj9O8eJG0RRFEitykt0HlXirRjjmCGdcYfTbcE/s320/462535_387328594625765_100000458844386_1332600_1938111894_o+%282%29.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Haven't had as much time or energy lately, as trained a replacement for my old position and started a new one (same employer). But, the new position requires a different form of dress, so after a frustrating first week trying to put outfits together, cleaned out my closet (mostly) this past weekend. I actually filled two garbage bags with clothing I know someone else can use, but, I won't. You know the "what used to fit", "what might fit", "maybe I'll need someday" stuff. It's still not as uncluttered as I'd like, but, the clothes can actually hang without being "squished", and putting outfits together (I sorted by color)is much easier. I like pretty tops, but, stay with solid color bottoms (except for the occasional skirt). I rediscovered things I'd forgotten I had, some to keep and some to give away. The level of frustration has vanished! Feel much more put together and professional. I'm replacing a few things, but, as a new item comes in, something has to go. If the old is still nice, will go to an appreciative new home.<br />
Best thing, is clutter hasn't crept back as I've been busy, as I'm still keeping up with the areas (kitchen table, nightstand) where things accumulate.<br />
It's not perfect, and there are miles to go, but, it's working!lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-67663682709840910702012-03-25T09:29:00.000-07:002012-03-25T09:29:14.826-07:00Finding out that organizing works!!I had the most amazing experience yesterday. It was a great day with my entire family there, including the ever adorable Quinn (my granddaughter). But, the amazement came not from the family dinner, which was lovely, but, rather from the lack of stress in preparation for "company". On Friday, I vacuumed the carpets, cleaned off horizontal surfaces (Quinn has a knack for finding things I don't want her to find), finished some dishes, put some bread dough out of the freezer to rise and pulled the high chair out of Quinn's playroom. On Saturday, I vacuumed again (the cats shed alot), swept and lightly mopped the kitchen floor, wiped off the table, put the big leaf in the oak table for dinner, wiped down the bathroom, did some laundry, took a shower and the house (and I) were done. We grilled chicken outside, baked potatoes, had a side dish that my oldest daughter made (a most excellent macaroni salad), tossed a salad, had ice cream birthday cake for dessert. Quinn loves my baked bread and kept saying BRR when she would point to it. I never had to feel embarrassed or defensive or anxious about any mess or clutter. Was it perfect - no of course not, we live here. Was it homey, clean and fun? Yes, yes and yes! Why was it so much less work than previous cleaning binges that were carefully mapped out, struggled with and done barely before they walked in? The small amount of clutter (excess magazines I'm going through, a gathering of things I cleaned out from my office at work (in preparation for a move to a different office), and a tote I'm putting things in that I want, but, that won't be out on display at the moment (and it's not even full) were easily removed to another room for further sorting after the gathering. The rooms had no big issues, just the usual small cleaning jobs that are required after every busy workweek.<br />
I enjoyed myself, wasn't afraid to let Quinn toddle around the house with a watchful eye on her, and even had time to dress nice and put on a little makeup before they all came. DH was also very relaxed. I kept feeling like I had TOO much spare time this past week as I usually would have been working myself senseless between the paying job and home. The cleanup after was minimal (except for the dishes, as I don't have a working dishwasher). Quinn even picked up her toys before going home. That's when it hit me - it's that daily tidying up after ourselves, routine cleaning and ongoing organizing that made my life so much easier! It's like pushing yourself up a steep hill, and then arriving at the top, catching your breath, and seeing a beautiful vista before you - and the view doesn't look as steep anymore! <br />
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P.S. Just a picture in her playroom with Quinn and Yoda hanging out together!<br />
Cindilizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-51841672003756139562012-01-14T11:19:00.000-08:002012-01-14T11:19:00.837-08:00Motivation for long cold winter days<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/> <w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/> <w:OverrideTableStyleHps/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">I'm taking an online class to help motivate me to organize my home and my life. Here is part of my homework this week:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My Motivation Statement:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">I walk through my house and feel a sense of peace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">I know where everything is.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">I can see, and enjoy, my “treasures”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">Cleaning involves routine dusting, vacuuming, mopping, etc.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">There is no sense of embarrassment if someone comes by without calling.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">There are chairs that are clear to sit on.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">A sink that’s clean.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">A table that only needs to be set for the meal.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">I feel no guilt if I want to sit and read or sew.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">My home-life is as focused and runs as efficiently and routinely as my professional life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">I have time to enjoy my life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-no-proof: yes;">I enjoy time with my family.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Pretty clear isn't it, when you actually write it down?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVrL7y5IVYQaDcBUuEPjrPnNXP3Ww80gnUQLaMbpi8CybWcPHYsfvLpyk1w5dFvWE-QctpN17lCsbUarg7EfY89SPpFhA0eJWk_4T5avUHi9KNIhDqHTo4QXaKCEmzjwzYXJ-ooR-Nr0/s1600/100_4746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVrL7y5IVYQaDcBUuEPjrPnNXP3Ww80gnUQLaMbpi8CybWcPHYsfvLpyk1w5dFvWE-QctpN17lCsbUarg7EfY89SPpFhA0eJWk_4T5avUHi9KNIhDqHTo4QXaKCEmzjwzYXJ-ooR-Nr0/s320/100_4746.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Euphemia","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I also donated two bags of clothing to a friend's clothing drive, a huge bag of clothing (including an "extra" winter coat I had and two sweatshirts and sweatpants that I had replaced with colors I like better) and other household stuff to the Salvation Army, two large boxes of books were donated also, as were all my miscellaneous serving pieces and dishes that I no longer use (or have room for). The books came off of the shelves pictured. Amazing!</span></div>lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-2429929252573418762012-01-08T17:03:00.000-08:002012-01-08T17:03:56.468-08:00Clutter bustingWell, I reached a significant goal with the completion of my granddaughter's playroom. It is warm, safe and fun. Most importantly UNCLUTTERED.<br />
Just as a reminder:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAtOgtNl2AEEL3NSbpD-8lNrNTx7hltaJzZ6x2EHxueMGmaPH0CgpYxveQWWMb8cFBYDt8lTM1GlTs-AWpYDKTuTksDbQLf_kgh46RzZh0BE2rkezShPyuJJomympe-Gx1PhhBOY6hO4/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAtOgtNl2AEEL3NSbpD-8lNrNTx7hltaJzZ6x2EHxueMGmaPH0CgpYxveQWWMb8cFBYDt8lTM1GlTs-AWpYDKTuTksDbQLf_kgh46RzZh0BE2rkezShPyuJJomympe-Gx1PhhBOY6hO4/s320/015.JPG" width="320" />Chaos!!</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then, there was serenity:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdx0eE48xutkmTg-KS2xHLoj-v5n09c5erAIH1SlwEAhyphenhyphenZfvvaYeo7i2PTnbmfWjvrQ1UrgtBCKpHIfmVB-BEAco9cFMJPpz96kY5Rjw8QXG1p6GqcxNfXgR2qIGTfvvqSXV-3dAwpTv8/s1600/100_4744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdx0eE48xutkmTg-KS2xHLoj-v5n09c5erAIH1SlwEAhyphenhyphenZfvvaYeo7i2PTnbmfWjvrQ1UrgtBCKpHIfmVB-BEAco9cFMJPpz96kY5Rjw8QXG1p6GqcxNfXgR2qIGTfvvqSXV-3dAwpTv8/s320/100_4744.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> With a LOT of hard work!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So a new challenge: now</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTsVkAQN-6J7K6zT95IkPDWHxw9vu4xp0AIJ0tgj2MR7mzTF7EgKH74C8DpAYVMkwnNulnUVR_6j2wQOwxD8rrFqVCKs25MNe91SbnNPut3NJ0SG6dINGYO2cKWxeBttBKSBkZfIuInC4/s1600/100_4732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTsVkAQN-6J7K6zT95IkPDWHxw9vu4xp0AIJ0tgj2MR7mzTF7EgKH74C8DpAYVMkwnNulnUVR_6j2wQOwxD8rrFqVCKs25MNe91SbnNPut3NJ0SG6dINGYO2cKWxeBttBKSBkZfIuInC4/s320/100_4732.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbR_rkQzyGf5ThTxyZ9VZx1GnbzXdTKd2dmEjLf_IBwD1PrWOhMoNoim3m9d49KOSGi4fLorB2_eAKkqf2qP5dyxRYJiEBxx4bE0g78-bFGxmo4Quwkpkx2-4HJj5EYoBDO8b5fcf8UU/s1600/100_4739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbR_rkQzyGf5ThTxyZ9VZx1GnbzXdTKd2dmEjLf_IBwD1PrWOhMoNoim3m9d49KOSGi4fLorB2_eAKkqf2qP5dyxRYJiEBxx4bE0g78-bFGxmo4Quwkpkx2-4HJj5EYoBDO8b5fcf8UU/s320/100_4739.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm going to challenge myself to cut down on STUFF</div>lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-73964408530340432942011-12-11T08:18:00.000-08:002011-12-11T08:18:52.862-08:00A month without my mother<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggK6XG2E_80fDUztrt7HQXvkGvhLghlQAeEEVxFyvLLxVOcz6BAbS4XlBee4zw8cD5_g09pje7lB4gMiSzNwabAOlThvQhKAB-bJd7TpekwSxcRNM0dY5pPtQIg08hTV58hbsjll0h_Ao/s1600/100_4644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggK6XG2E_80fDUztrt7HQXvkGvhLghlQAeEEVxFyvLLxVOcz6BAbS4XlBee4zw8cD5_g09pje7lB4gMiSzNwabAOlThvQhKAB-bJd7TpekwSxcRNM0dY5pPtQIg08hTV58hbsjll0h_Ao/s320/100_4644.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjawkMTrbf7DQnKVlYgt5wVbTeUetpyBY_7Qc9dLkTKZ-JcIWfLqsc04xf5e_GAL0euuWhNvhtdogEBF8Rk3VFsLTPCYaGTux0c_asayV2IRGG2tDiD69o8Mvs4aMPS9iIJBVs6XNG0M/s1600/100_4642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjawkMTrbf7DQnKVlYgt5wVbTeUetpyBY_7Qc9dLkTKZ-JcIWfLqsc04xf5e_GAL0euuWhNvhtdogEBF8Rk3VFsLTPCYaGTux0c_asayV2IRGG2tDiD69o8Mvs4aMPS9iIJBVs6XNG0M/s320/100_4642.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>It's the little things that catch me off guard - an email I would like to forward to her, a picture of my granddaughter that I know she'll love, a memory of something she said. Grief is an odd thing. It's unique to every person. All I can do is focus on the positive in my life, and accept the moments that take my breath away.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-87772294333517257912011-11-20T16:32:00.000-08:002011-11-20T16:32:38.672-08:00When your mother diesMy mother passed away just over a week ago, and I've learned many things about myself and her, since then. I've learned how important my roll as a mother is to me. I thought I knew, but, there's always room for more knowledge, especially self knowledge, I guess.<br />
My mother was 83, so she had made arrangements to cover the cost of her cremation, etc. She had written emails for my brother to send, once she was gone, telling each of us how much we meant to her, and what she wanted us to do with a few hundred dollars she was leaving each of us. My mother never had much money, and her favorite gift was the checks I sent her, on special occasions, holidays, etc. when she could go shopping for something she wanted and the pictures I sent her. Otherwise, she seemed content with the visits, emails and cards we all sent. She was elderly when she learned how to email, and happily forwarded everything that was sent to her.<br />
After she had taught herself how to use an older computer, my brother bought her a new one, and it opened up the world for her.<br />
This past year, she was having more confusion, especially at night, and falling.<br />
As she lived far from all of us (it wasn't that we never tried to get her to live closer or with us, it was just that she enjoyed living near her sister. Even when she briefly lived with my one sister, she was glad to return to Texas). <br />
Then, my aunt started making irate phone calls to my brother because "you all aren't doing enough. One of you needs to move here and take care of your mother." Needless to say, with family commitments, jobs, etc. of our own, that wasn't practical. So with the help of the internet, my medical training (I'm an RN), telephone calls and some fighting with my aunt, we started doing what we could.<br />
We found out part of the problem with our intervention, was medications my mother was taking. My sister spent several days there, trying to figure things out with my help, and just when everything seemed under control, a day after she returned to Kansas, my mother fell, breaking two bones in her leg.<br />
She didn't react well to medications they used for pain, and then after a long distance family meeting, my brother drove from Georgia to Texas and convinced my mother that the rehab hospital in Georgia near his home would be better for her. She also agreed to live near him, with a live in caregiver, "since Georgia is warmer than where the girls live" (Pennsylvania, Kansas) We all helped with the move, either physically or financially.<br />
So he moved her there, got medical care for her that didn't involve multiple doctors prescribing for her, and she got better.<br />
My mother asked if she could move in with him, after the hospital, and he agreed. She was so happy living with him! We thought we would have her for awhile longer. One of my sisters was going to stay with her for a couple of weeks in December, so my brother could go on a vacation he had been planning for over a year. I had planned a trip to Georgia in the spring, when I could afford to go.<br />
Then, she started having TIA's (mini strokes), one after the other, until, within a few days of getting her hairstyled, going shopping with a new friend, having a great time in general, she no longer knew who my brother was. It was his birthday, and she had no idea who he was.<br />
The doctor gave choices - aggressive treatment that wouldn't change her condition, or hospice. My brother, at this point was making all the decisions about treatment, but, we all agreed, hospice was what she would want, so it started.<br />
As the strokes got worse, she became more and more confused. I talked with her on the telephone, and one of the few understandable words she could say, was my name. <br />
Then abruptly she was gone, with her decline, and hospice all within a week when the trouble started.<br />
Regrets are the hardest. I wish I'd done more, understood more, let the past go sooner.<br />
That I did what I could, with what I had, matters to me. That I wrote her a long letter before her health failed, telling her that our arguments and misunderstanding from the past didn't matter, and I loved her, and that she read it, meant much.<br />
I wish she would have lived a while longer, so that I could see her again, selfishly. Not, to suffer, but, to enjoy the peaceful place she found the last few months of her life.<br />
I finally realized that she just didn't know what I needed from her, and I never told her, because I didn't realize what it was myself, until now.<br />
Mother and daughter relationships are fraught with love, misunderstandings and memories.<br />
I have three grown daughters, and I will be telling them, that they need to tell me what they need, if emotionally I'm not giving it, because I don't always know the right path, the right words. I have a good relationship with them, and love them dearly, but, I don't want them to regret anything about us, someday.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6po3MnD8GjSOgGwkQlJz2Hdz-1iIVmKB4mrYwcP148egvAdmywtn0UV0NMPUd-VG2x1lgU47HzgYG-MR0vWJ4kSiuvHpLJuqdC0Kn6a8PLzasXMSEbT0gHyz0EjAq4zw3wG1lr58p60/s1600/Mom_at_19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6po3MnD8GjSOgGwkQlJz2Hdz-1iIVmKB4mrYwcP148egvAdmywtn0UV0NMPUd-VG2x1lgU47HzgYG-MR0vWJ4kSiuvHpLJuqdC0Kn6a8PLzasXMSEbT0gHyz0EjAq4zw3wG1lr58p60/s320/Mom_at_19.jpg" width="255" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVcUc8HN8Oom_yv0lM8ZRug_z3lx-Ojj80_X4-WzB_LsFkeiNINqcicPg5LvvC9MIuuKo993BaEnH4vKA2ymUMt55nrlmg2j3BlO7Cjv1fJn3jyil0dNUy_D_IDD997iFbi5fEWwNvVM/s1600/272917_1870171915368_1273200753_1676919_6207385_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigVcUc8HN8Oom_yv0lM8ZRug_z3lx-Ojj80_X4-WzB_LsFkeiNINqcicPg5LvvC9MIuuKo993BaEnH4vKA2ymUMt55nrlmg2j3BlO7Cjv1fJn3jyil0dNUy_D_IDD997iFbi5fEWwNvVM/s320/272917_1870171915368_1273200753_1676919_6207385_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Perhaps, that is the true legacy of my mother leaving.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-31958436836500379872011-11-04T16:21:00.000-07:002011-11-04T16:21:20.764-07:00Multitasking your way to failure and exhaustionI am a multitasker from childhood, I think. Sometimes I even overwhelm me! My daughters seem to have inherited the pesky quirk, and I have learned much about myself from watching them. My youngest daughter who is impressive in her bright, energetic whirl of accomplishments taught me something this week. Still in college, she has done climate research, completed a grant proposal (which she had to present to the committee) done a presentation on the Salton Sea research she and a team did last summer at the annual GSA meeting, and carries a full load of math and science at school, does volunteer work and committees - well I'm tired just thinking about it all. So this week she had to drop out of another grant proposal for the climate research because Calculus is kicking her butt. Okay, I never took Calculus, especially college Calculus, but, I think it is HARD stuff. So there she is, feeling bad because she can't do it all. Guess what, none of us can do it all. As I heard myself reassuring her of this, and praising her ability to prioritize what she needs to do this semester, I learned something. She prioritizes better than I do. I would have failed Calculus before I figured out why I was so exhausted. Instead, she spoke with her mentors, her advisor, got tutoring for the Calculus, and made the very adult decision to drop the one grant proposal, because she didn't have the time. She also went to the gym twice this week.. How did I get such a smart kid? Did I mention that she and her High School sweetheart are also "taking a break". I'd be huddled under the covers of my bed. But, not her. I hope that means she's learned from watching me crash and burn a few times. I already know she's smarter than me.<br />
So why do we work ourselves into oblivion? I always do more work, at work, than my peers. I have responsibilities that exceed what I'm actually required to do. Yes, my boss "loves" me. I work hard, efficiently and accomplish much. I earn the decent wage I'm paid. I take one break a day - lunch (which took a long time for me to figure out didn't mean eating at my desk). I'm not a smoker, so I'm not busy taking multiple other breaks throughout the day, as are a few others. Why do I care that they feel entitled to all those breaks? Human I guess. But, I am trying to allow myself more down time lately and it helps. Because I need a break once in awhile, too.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWbDX7KUJvcp1JASdjObRYS-bdPzHp6W666kQA3HUJiXC92vO0kR8soFBZw5snIUO7JE4Xbhi6wu_nKF3L7h4-S3ymYPTr6mX3FEJ56xfTv-BNkoh7cY_TN8Jp6a-rr6kNuSU0aclD08/s1600/307893_10150334453452831_590192830_8378290_691548627_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWbDX7KUJvcp1JASdjObRYS-bdPzHp6W666kQA3HUJiXC92vO0kR8soFBZw5snIUO7JE4Xbhi6wu_nKF3L7h4-S3ymYPTr6mX3FEJ56xfTv-BNkoh7cY_TN8Jp6a-rr6kNuSU0aclD08/s320/307893_10150334453452831_590192830_8378290_691548627_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I'm not trying to work through a headache or exhaustion anymore. If my body says "enough" it means it. If a break doesn't fix it, then maybe it's time to go home.<br />
This is my sweet baby girl doing her presentation at the big to do in Minnesota. (in the picture)lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-21228936734000031582011-09-30T14:40:00.000-07:002011-09-30T14:40:49.576-07:00Update on THE PROJECT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTJ1FPNa6uFM6LZcdgaHyxX0CdIuf0ClrXD213vtf5MfylCR0HTA26GMUKv7cBIOBr_TBzy2pabDOPPoRSFGlyhok_yP2Vruxft92G8cD7qLOSvZ4qvP2rIJz4MRW-dBFP0oA1kncyUo/s1600/100_4406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTJ1FPNa6uFM6LZcdgaHyxX0CdIuf0ClrXD213vtf5MfylCR0HTA26GMUKv7cBIOBr_TBzy2pabDOPPoRSFGlyhok_yP2Vruxft92G8cD7qLOSvZ4qvP2rIJz4MRW-dBFP0oA1kncyUo/s320/100_4406.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwtrJn2oBcB-1jgzjCo1kjGMzSxYNwL6P1ihaHM9S9PA3eIC4XBgnU_8J_nJj32E4DfP5wmC17qQ_7BGVPanf1uptiIYz3uQhek8ml9qoJMv4mmFotY5HC9Re9LGgODdAi0RDelrUFCA/s1600/100_4280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwtrJn2oBcB-1jgzjCo1kjGMzSxYNwL6P1ihaHM9S9PA3eIC4XBgnU_8J_nJj32E4DfP5wmC17qQ_7BGVPanf1uptiIYz3uQhek8ml9qoJMv4mmFotY5HC9Re9LGgODdAi0RDelrUFCA/s320/100_4280.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The play room is almost done! Hurray! We still need to buy the new flooring and install it. A little bit of touch up painting and Quinn's play room can officially open.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-77583868333244961302011-09-30T14:35:00.000-07:002011-09-30T14:35:32.541-07:00Angry People and KindnessWhy are some people so angry? They blow the horn at you if you pause too long after the light changes, bump you with their cart in the check out line (now really, is it going to make the underpaid cashier check me out any faster if you bruise my leg?), complain loudly when the underpaid waitresses, short order cooks, cashiers of the world aren't fast enough. Do they kick their dog when they go home? Do they want their kids treated the way they treat others?<br />
The world is a hard place on a good day. I learned to be more patient with others as I've grown older. I've learned to tip more after my daughters served others before finishing college. I learned to be patient with the new checker who is struggling to remember a multitude of details, because this is someone's child. They are trying to be a productive member of society. Most low paying jobs are mind numbing at best, terrifying at worst. I worked my share before I found out I needed a real education to do more than survive in this world. Let's all be a little more patient, a little kinder.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-7027959618106695472011-08-19T17:14:00.000-07:002011-08-19T17:14:27.001-07:00The reason for the project!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEdS29uyEy7pn9NXO-DfvoJtRzOmV2RHHMhnzYEsv5_c9vqcxvuHeKJ6z6xvye3R78eKQDvtB_-ElhOtpNWpHlIsy6bmy_nFvyhJsdw56GZqKg8-l2G-ieTatVDuoEcfiTRkCxrnydqY/s1600/100_4288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEdS29uyEy7pn9NXO-DfvoJtRzOmV2RHHMhnzYEsv5_c9vqcxvuHeKJ6z6xvye3R78eKQDvtB_-ElhOtpNWpHlIsy6bmy_nFvyhJsdw56GZqKg8-l2G-ieTatVDuoEcfiTRkCxrnydqY/s320/100_4288.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Today, watched my granddaughter at her house. Watching her roll and crawl and explore her world made me realize anew why she needs a special safe place to play and nap at my house. Will be back to work on her playroom tomorrow!lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-12831319650205088052011-08-17T18:08:00.000-07:002011-08-17T18:08:22.555-07:00My project continues<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVvox2cnUlrg0huZ0cvjTxi6OZqXMs7YI9RwVJP6QhByIkN9cgYn79TUTAImEbGe3k3Mx0mkM1HY2bZNQoF8D35tRwFCDkBZOL-xyP-bFlRQHhl5UeefHdyhPssTUp9tqg6pLLTduX2qU/s1600/100_4280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVvox2cnUlrg0huZ0cvjTxi6OZqXMs7YI9RwVJP6QhByIkN9cgYn79TUTAImEbGe3k3Mx0mkM1HY2bZNQoF8D35tRwFCDkBZOL-xyP-bFlRQHhl5UeefHdyhPssTUp9tqg6pLLTduX2qU/s320/100_4280.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Spackling is done. Will go over for final sanding/sponging tomorrow. Not going to prime/paint until this weekend, when DH will help me move the hutch out of the room, onto our enclosed back porch, and pulling up the old carpet. I had fun painting letters for my granddaughter's playroom. Someday, hope to have several names on that wall!lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-38812867470306357572011-08-13T18:18:00.000-07:002011-08-13T18:18:04.026-07:00Project!!Well, finally picked out the paint for the playroom. Home Depot even tinted the sealer and chalkboard paint to go with the color I picked. I decided to go with a light green that matches a green stripe in the valances I've had for awhile now. Anyway, took down the dusty roman shades, cleaned out the room (almost completely), removed the molding trim around the windows so they could be repaired/sanded, etc. Spackled and taped imperfections, spackled, sanded, sponged - you get the idea. My house is a disaster (okay, a very organized pile of STUFF). Anyway, ceiling fan is going, windows are open, and boy am I tired! More later - with pictures!lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-83362303356782265522011-07-23T09:15:00.000-07:002011-07-23T09:15:27.945-07:00Junk drawer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wKblbFV710vC15YqVKho84UWjF_13oahESB9CKy-xbQtA1jFPOkNM10Dz_Zqe3U2_pwd7gyvu-VEo5A5TIZm4D_GxUGf9Hyrq31bTiUnSXNuS5XZY6O-ExfBl2Rt2OWOMSFdFxOOC70/s1600/100_4220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wKblbFV710vC15YqVKho84UWjF_13oahESB9CKy-xbQtA1jFPOkNM10Dz_Zqe3U2_pwd7gyvu-VEo5A5TIZm4D_GxUGf9Hyrq31bTiUnSXNuS5XZY6O-ExfBl2Rt2OWOMSFdFxOOC70/s320/100_4220.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltz4Zkk8fkwYVbe8zEAKtYr94bD0iYQLtrKLYJ67BC5r3nFKDk20vYXEVfB86uIsz0BixMuecEULClYCSaHXJyebdNvOEalEHcxIMtmK20XH6AJ6Xi5Tu1TkIw3VOScuV3MvXyiSt2gg/s1600/100_4222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltz4Zkk8fkwYVbe8zEAKtYr94bD0iYQLtrKLYJ67BC5r3nFKDk20vYXEVfB86uIsz0BixMuecEULClYCSaHXJyebdNvOEalEHcxIMtmK20XH6AJ6Xi5Tu1TkIw3VOScuV3MvXyiSt2gg/s320/100_4222.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Well, my next baby step went well this week. The irritating junk drawer! Here are before and after pictures.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-35430990066319727942011-07-18T17:33:00.000-07:002011-07-18T17:33:23.042-07:00Victory!I am so happy! Despite a long hot day at work, I came home, visited with my husband and daughter, and then after dinner dishes ORGANIZED! I switched the two cupboards I mentioned in yesterday's post (pots and pans, storage dishes and large serving bowls) and it works! Of course I had to wipe them out, sort the junk out (you know, the containers without lids, etc.), but it totally works! Wish I'd taken a before picture, but, even my husband loves it!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihk6Q3xwn9kcnTOzzQlMdRoi9CDsOoRZNbzikuguAA6cDD4Zc2-mh7vcHOK1ViwJVyPhBzF-V-KWLUQeB1CnBIhKiPqZL-RFAx3N2Xf9dFvJnoze65ZVKYj1xpMNw0mUX-BE0F4_ntgto/s1600/quinn+chasing+the+dogs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihk6Q3xwn9kcnTOzzQlMdRoi9CDsOoRZNbzikuguAA6cDD4Zc2-mh7vcHOK1ViwJVyPhBzF-V-KWLUQeB1CnBIhKiPqZL-RFAx3N2Xf9dFvJnoze65ZVKYj1xpMNw0mUX-BE0F4_ntgto/s320/quinn+chasing+the+dogs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I feel like I'm really going to get this all done - one baby step at a time!<br />
Of course this is my granddaughter doing her baby step thing, but, she's way cuter than I am!lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-6556178919976843502011-07-17T17:05:00.000-07:002011-07-17T17:05:03.892-07:00Hot weather and organizing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAkhjkJE3xU6Hh_htGPNsuppp1s5RfgZkjyN9gYgc2ie7s-5vVJDENJKj4tNl3odf4nlevZK-1-xw6ntdFHxcOHAMQ63hmX6lctoW8YPCjGwq8cDgCgxQnuVSwnppmWBlDQAWfjzLl5O8/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAkhjkJE3xU6Hh_htGPNsuppp1s5RfgZkjyN9gYgc2ie7s-5vVJDENJKj4tNl3odf4nlevZK-1-xw6ntdFHxcOHAMQ63hmX6lctoW8YPCjGwq8cDgCgxQnuVSwnppmWBlDQAWfjzLl5O8/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Today I dried multiple loads of wash on my clothesline (and sorted and folded and put them), sorted through a stack of papers (and threw half of it away), washed the siding on the back of my house, and half of the other side (I need another hose to finish, as one is too short), finished a book I started reading a couple of days ago and visited with my youngest daughter. I rearranged the furniture in my living room last night before I went to bed. Why all this hard work? I really wanted to go see my granddaughter this weekend, but, my husband has a nasty cold, so, I kept really busy. My organizing projects got a nice little boost with a book I'm also reading called "One Year to an Organized Life" by Regina Leeds. Being the impatient sort, I of course skimmed through sections of the book without reading the whole introduction, then had to go back and read it when she lost me partway through a chapter (which all made sense after reading the beginning). Every organization book I read gives me a nudge in the right direction. Partway through the kitchen chapter a light went on in the brain and I realized that the reason two of my cupboards never seem to work, no matter how I organize them, is that they need to have the contents switched from one to the other. It made so much sense, I couldn't believe it. The cupboards, about 11 years ago, when we remodeled, made perfect sense to me, the way I organized them. But, they have been a messy problem ever since. I had it in my head that they were where they should be, even though it didn't really work. My aha moment was when I realized how much more sense it made moving my pots and pans to the corner cupboard right next to the stove. After all, they were only a couple of cupboards over, etc., etc., so every time I read in any book that you store things where they are used, I thought I had them there.. The corner cupboard is more open and taller, so I will actually be able to put the lids on the pans and see what I'm reaching for, with its two curved shelves. What is currently stored in that handy corner cupboard? My storage containers and lids, a few extra serving bowls, etc. Not the best use of the space. Don't even get me started about the other corner cupboard which is overloaded with not one set of good china, but, probably, counting the special Christmas china, three sets of good china, several different sets of everyday china, bowls, platters, etc. This book recommends keeping your favorite stuff and gifting the rest, either to family or charity. Because, the reality is, we don't really use most of it - ever. Another thought for another day. But, the hard part is of course parting with the pretty things. As for the picture? My gorgeous granddaughter, who I miss! lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-66422276853947399632011-06-28T17:03:00.000-07:002011-06-28T17:03:35.083-07:00Work work work work work.............................................................Okay, I know that the hot weather makes me grumpy. But, what is it with people? You work hard, do more than you have to do (alot more), help wherever and whenever your help is needed. Did I mention covering four positions one day last week? Then, something goes not as planned and someone quickly tries to make it your fault (it wasn't my fault by the way), and gets all surprised, when (surprise!) you tell them that a) it was their job to do it correctly in the first place, b) you followed the schedule they had (supposedly) reviewed and c) if you are going to get blamed for anything that doesn't work out when you help out (surprise!) perhaps they shouldn't ask you to cover for them. Of course, what they want you to do is take the blame so they are blameless, and still have you help whenever they can get someone to free you up to do that.<br />
Did I mention the hot weather makes me grumpy?!lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-5335272930410769732011-06-11T13:09:00.000-07:002011-06-11T13:09:11.583-07:00My projectWell, although life has been throwing some painful curve balls my way, I'm still moving forward with my playroom project. Now, the biggest change right now, is I've swapped off which room I'm planning on using. Downstairs is a room I use as a sitting room, with a large hutch and tons of sewing projects. Trouble is, as I've been trying to use it for the rest of my stuff from the upstairs bedroom, there isn't enough room for everything. I don't want the room that Quinn plays in to have mixed uses - it's for her and any brothers, sisters or cousins that join her for play at some point. So after some hard thinking (after all, I've gotten rid of tons of stuff already, organized even more) I decided that the downstairs sitting room might be better for a playroom in the long run. It has three windows, has nice carpet that I may or may not keep in there, and the walls were done not that long ago, so except for the usual minor filling in here and there, it will be easy to repaint. Right now, it is a deep rose, but, I want a minty green for the upper walls and chalkboard paint on at least part of the lower walls. There's a newer ceiling fan with light, and is bright and airy. I think the storage in the upstairs bedroom will be better suited for my sewing stuff. The hutch takes up all of one wall in the downstairs sitting room. I won't get rid of it because a) it was given to me by a dear friend who has since passed away and b) I love displaying my collections in the upper glass doored part. My husband will look it over and help me decide if it stays put or gets moved (I have no idea exactly where - it weighs a ton and is huge). On the plus side, the lower doors could be child proofed until Quinn is older, and/or she could keep her toys in the bottom half. The upper half is more problematic, but, we have time to think it through.<br />
However, with some planning, I think this room will be perfect for the child(ren). Will add some before and after pictures as soon as I have some good ones.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-66526961067891706622011-05-01T14:11:00.000-07:002011-05-01T14:11:54.506-07:00WeekendVisited Quinn and family this Saturday. I love how she makes me feel with her giggles and smiles.<br />
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My own mother, who I am not close to physically or emotionally is having some medical problems. She won't live closer to any of us (or with us), because she prefers Texas and being near her sister and brother. Which makes it hard, when my aunt contacted one of my three siblings to tell him that he needs to "come and stay with your mother and take care of her". He lives in Georgia and is working on a degree. I have two sisters - one in Kansas, one in Florida, and I am in Pennsylvania. We all work and/or go to school and I am sure they are as busy as I am.<br />
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Although I am an RN, my mom doesn't like to discuss her "personal" medical needs. That includes medications. She doesn't want me knowing her "business". So, I had to be sneaky, telling my brother what questions to ask, etc. For whatever reason, she feels he will be more knowledgeable about all things medical, although that isn't really his area of training. Well, it only took a few minutes for him to discover an alarming amount of medications that interact with each other, that she is taking, prescribed by different doctors (he was emailing me as he looked into things). So now she has an appointment this week to visit one doctor with all her medications. I think a good medical workup and review of her medications will help alot. We are also looking into caregivers who can be there more than the 3 days a week she now has someone come in. In a perfect world, we would all be closer, geographically at least, and able to take a more hands on approach. We handled things, and will continue to, as best we can.<br />
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On a more cheerful note, here is my grandbaby, yesterday: My extended family may not be close, but, I hope my immediate family and I will always be.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKtTnlKsW8Ctex_rGn9y7Pfp7MpDlf0ZaukaFVT6jvu0IuiUxifpBMHlcp7h2Ma8x2QCeB3Gv2X6kkHn2biByowIGS96VdxHsOtY-ssRmBJM8_6U3xTJwKpHTJCENhp85KBYBZXFk2hU/s1600/100_4027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKtTnlKsW8Ctex_rGn9y7Pfp7MpDlf0ZaukaFVT6jvu0IuiUxifpBMHlcp7h2Ma8x2QCeB3Gv2X6kkHn2biByowIGS96VdxHsOtY-ssRmBJM8_6U3xTJwKpHTJCENhp85KBYBZXFk2hU/s320/100_4027.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-10821298077241102972011-04-24T07:52:00.000-07:002011-04-24T07:52:20.899-07:00Easter Bunny!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytZUUrh4A5dpEBKobCYWNT7b4KQWQ9r-kiVkSszav0i5dKoIp8rgVXEN4BN-Nt6IZfaNnE6FWnlPDSmccDxmoQJcEG4jL8zbiA05t_jlllTfwsAtPlj4kP0_75ruxRnE237HN2aOSIA4/s1600/218385_10101009812973594_9332812_80930120_4482840_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytZUUrh4A5dpEBKobCYWNT7b4KQWQ9r-kiVkSszav0i5dKoIp8rgVXEN4BN-Nt6IZfaNnE6FWnlPDSmccDxmoQJcEG4jL8zbiA05t_jlllTfwsAtPlj4kP0_75ruxRnE237HN2aOSIA4/s320/218385_10101009812973594_9332812_80930120_4482840_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Some pictures just say it all. Here is my granddaughter with her first Easter picture.lizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-46072051917488245582011-04-23T11:02:00.001-07:002011-04-23T11:02:31.636-07:00<!-- HEADER-->ALREADY HOME<!-- CONTENT --><!-- BOOK COVER --><!-- BUTTONS -->BrowseShareBuylizziebetlizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01982843313422597851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433150378873373769.post-77087552739050177752011-04-23T10:18:00.000-07:002011-04-23T10:18:57.316-07:00Easter weekendFinished reading Already Home by Susan Mallery last night. Highly recommend for a good read. I discovered Susan's books when I started reading the Fool's Gold series. Family, self doubt, insecurity, love, redemption, it has all of those and a good group of characters.<br />
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