tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17632297711224595322024-03-06T00:13:23.457-08:00Our Essential Beach HouseWelcome to Our Essential Beach House - formerly My Beach House, a place for musings on my special life and the things that make it both awesome and crazy. At age 55 I added a husband, so now my musings include adjusting to life as a wife!My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-36490665388954892972017-03-12T13:42:00.000-07:002017-03-12T13:59:07.624-07:00Selling Breezy PointLast Wednesday morning, my daughter and I set our alarms for 6:00 a.m. and poured coffee in travel cups and drove the five minutes over to the house in Breezy Point. We've been getting it ready for sale - painting, moving, cleaning, staging - and it is officially on the market tomorrow.<br />
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Later that morning, Maddie made the 8-hour drive back to Columbia, to finish her final semester at University of South Carolina. The day after she arrived home for Spring Break, we went over to the house to clean and finish clearing out straggling items. I went to check on her upstairs in her room and she ended up in my arms having a good cry. Wednesday morning was my turn.<br />
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Our plan was to sit on the back porch and watch one final sun rise, but the weather didn't cooperate and the drizzle and clouds blocked the sun. We sat together on the small couch and hugged. This time I was the one to cry as 42 years of memories passed by, so I shared some of them...<br />
<br />
"My first summer love was here," I said.<br />
"Who was that?" she asked.<br />
"Oh my, between pre-teen and teen, it was probably a dozen boys!"<br />
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"All those 4th of July celebrations," she said.<br />
"Yes."<br />
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"You took your first steps here. You climbed out of your crib here."<br />
"I couldn't be stopped!" she laughed.<br />
"You wrapped your grandmother around your finger here. It was you two against me."<br />
"And rightfully so..." she said.<br />
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She remembered all the different configurations of the furniture and said, "Remember when the TV was here and you stood there and watched the news on 9/11?"<br />
"Oh yes...I could not stop crying."<br />
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She mentioned the boy two doors over, "When I think about playing with Matt every day, I just think how we would be outside for hours and hours. We spent so much time just playing."<br />
"Remember you two were allowed to freely go between the three backyards, but you weren't allowed to play out front," I reminded her.<br />
"You were afraid someone would steal me!" she replied.<br />
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"All my friends love this house," she states. "They think it's the most adorable house."<br />
"It's certainly small and old," I said.<br />
<br />
"I probably studied in every corner of this house,"<br />
I said, "I remember telling people that you were spread out all over this house and I just rented a room."<br />
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We took one last walk around. We stood at the back windows staring out of the view. The sun was back there somewhere behind the gray. We hugged.<br />
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"So, did you want to go upstairs one last time?" I asked.<br />
"No," she said. "I think I'm ready."<br />
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She took a couple pictures of the house before we left the house that built her. I had 21 years of memories in that house before she was born, but the sweetest ones are of raising my child in a house that I loved from my own childhood. For most of those years, her bedroom upstairs was the same one I spent my summers in. I'm confident that most of our memories are happy ones. When I count my blessings, raising my girl in this house and this community are among them. Home, church, friends, family, school, and more - I can't think of many experiences we've had here that don't bring gratitude. It's been a good run.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy in her Disney Princesses nightgown!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cinderalla lived her for a time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2ALOape46s7bzmhIWBybOJ6_ER-au7DLn76zkEGjRB7bx_kEI9OfA1plbVkbvHWobtifd8EwvJgwtPWGyfh2lvzfOx5ZHFg69km15jggNdtjpTjq3zjmHDy842-ps9tKYEDbqsPmgi-U/s1600/06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2ALOape46s7bzmhIWBybOJ6_ER-au7DLn76zkEGjRB7bx_kEI9OfA1plbVkbvHWobtifd8EwvJgwtPWGyfh2lvzfOx5ZHFg69km15jggNdtjpTjq3zjmHDy842-ps9tKYEDbqsPmgi-U/s400/06.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When she accepted Christ, photo on the back steps.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7O_-bZzwe-phWpmVhU_iAHaMZ8Y07KRyRnxviI6oIzZcDpiw1QaS0cDzGxWEcfYPIIymI-x7-GhCGeXMnRBxoYOyl2qK9ruNVFwWJpo8eK9dfQ3JJ662g-k3azY3c9-Z1f9rjH7KpDwQE/s1600/IMG_0949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7O_-bZzwe-phWpmVhU_iAHaMZ8Y07KRyRnxviI6oIzZcDpiw1QaS0cDzGxWEcfYPIIymI-x7-GhCGeXMnRBxoYOyl2qK9ruNVFwWJpo8eK9dfQ3JJ662g-k3azY3c9-Z1f9rjH7KpDwQE/s400/IMG_0949.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where she found her passion: Sports Management</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Future Business Leader of America</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2cgRxS4UUHj6M-e4t12Jp1RI2ud7vLd2UfoPvwak0YpaUAQfTkjeJr7TBMeqoZh9evkNc1gRXNIyNjp_OTFefIcCLp2Zp9UVNoKDYrcAD86QYkhc97gUvzF2yBI5ptCHhHDmNARcW8Wx/s1600/IMG_4839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2cgRxS4UUHj6M-e4t12Jp1RI2ud7vLd2UfoPvwak0YpaUAQfTkjeJr7TBMeqoZh9evkNc1gRXNIyNjp_OTFefIcCLp2Zp9UVNoKDYrcAD86QYkhc97gUvzF2yBI5ptCHhHDmNARcW8Wx/s400/IMG_4839.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Senior Photos</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYGkaiYf2_T4zLaiKsGBbmCJt6pyI8IoxIgobodJprec5wFRNZcnHMKL3RMDQakD3R0-Imy6rSQNAIrv1AalqRfbel1Vh0iVidIeq8BvJGnNn2Xjiml3DxAXSitRpPtUZg_ses3JuVFLj/s1600/IMG_3845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYGkaiYf2_T4zLaiKsGBbmCJt6pyI8IoxIgobodJprec5wFRNZcnHMKL3RMDQakD3R0-Imy6rSQNAIrv1AalqRfbel1Vh0iVidIeq8BvJGnNn2Xjiml3DxAXSitRpPtUZg_ses3JuVFLj/s400/IMG_3845.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My college student/Charger lover!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putting herself through her first two years of college.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">College Senior year Spring Break. Home to say goodbye to this old house. </td></tr>
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<br />My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-16298424779771508392017-02-10T10:11:00.000-08:002017-02-10T10:12:49.158-08:00Our DIY WeddingAfter my husband finally put a ring on it in August 2014, our next questions were:<br />
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1. How do an over-50 woman and and over-60 man celebrate a wedding without looking foolish?<br />
2. How do we keep costs down?<br />
3. What are our college-age children's schedules?<br />
4. Should we just elope or go to the courthouse?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">August 2014</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">We spent the next six months asking these questions over and over and then just dropping the subject! Maybe just being engaged was enough! As Christians, we both knew that moving forward with marriage was certainly what God would want, but as older, previously married people we were overwhelmed. We both owned homes. We lived 80 miles apart. We each had a college-aged child who was not established. He was retired, while I was in the process of selling my business. I had family everywhere; he had a close family all within the DC area. Finances needed to be combined, we needed to decide where to live, decisions had to be made about insurance and other issues. It really was easier for a while just to drop the subject as quickly as it came up! </span><br />
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But, but... WEDDING! We both had previously been married and had weddings. I have to admit that I was a bit hung up on having a wedding because this marriage was the one I was confident about. Marrying someone whom I had known for 30+ years and whose character at 60 was unchanged from when I'd first met him made me confident that a celebration was indeed in order! While he might have been happy to elope or go to the courthouse, we both felt that we wanted traditional vows before God. Three major factors pointed us in the direction of wedding - my daughter, his son, his 80+ mom. We wanted them involved - and my mother-in-law would have been disappointed not to be there. So, a wedding was needed.<br />
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I knew that I wanted to be married overlooking the water - either the Chesapeake Bay or the Patuxent River. I would love a sunset. So we started searching for venues knowing full well that we did not want to spend a lot of money. It's a lot different when you've worked all your life for your money - what you're willing to spend on one day! Still, I had a lot of ideas. Naturally, I created a couple of <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/" target="_blank">Pinterest </a>boards and started pinning like mad to <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/willowsbchhse/my-backyard-wedding/" target="_blank">My Backyard Wedding.</a> We wanted to be outside in a natural setting with a laid-back, casual theme. We had quite a few discussions that ended with nothing resolved because the whole idea of paying for a venue and all that goes with that was daunting. We wanted to keep things under $5,000.00 and that did not look possible. Even that number had John gasping for air!<br />
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My house is in a small beach community on the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay but my home is not crowd friendly, nor is it overlooking the water. On a fairly regular basis, we would be invited to have dinner with a dear friend who has a knack for putting together all the right ingredients for an incredibly fun dinner party. Always the right mix of people, food, beverages and conversation. On a fall evening sitting around the fire pit enjoying after dinner drinks she said, "Why don't you have your wedding here?" Immediately, we said no. My first thought was, "What a beautiful place for a small wedding," while my second thought was, "What an incredible way to kill a friendship!" There were a couple of weeks of conversation before we agreed. There had to be terms - and she had the perfect idea. Her house is on a bluff overlooking the Bay and there was a fairly decrepit "workshop" building at the bottom of the bluff set back behind the sand. She had toyed with the idea of making it into a fun, beach shack to store beach items and host small parties. The bluff was overgrown, and the shack was in need of repairs. In exchange for fixing up the bluff and the shack we would be married in her backyard - overlooking the Bay. I was overjoyed that my dream was coming true!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKB7iVBQZfpUTE43XIIJACTzCj7gPIVEVxCt_OF6mETJUeSq-I1nWDvq4wakqYv4lz9wTdgLNvNkrXOeQw844vV56QHu56BC6xpoQ30bjbbJiojzJfH5ecG0JY5bb2ijh_wRDJIs9vy2BL/s1600/12311035_10155009813107228_8548175040983958238_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKB7iVBQZfpUTE43XIIJACTzCj7gPIVEVxCt_OF6mETJUeSq-I1nWDvq4wakqYv4lz9wTdgLNvNkrXOeQw844vV56QHu56BC6xpoQ30bjbbJiojzJfH5ecG0JY5bb2ijh_wRDJIs9vy2BL/s200/12311035_10155009813107228_8548175040983958238_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing hostess and friend, Sonia Kay of Sonia Kay's by the Bay</td></tr>
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The wedding date was finally set for June 4, 2016, and the work would begin whenever my fiance could get started. While settling on a venue is most important, there was still so much to be done. For the moment, though, I could breathe a sigh of relief.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7174pRf_wUcw5Tz9cGAsQ0Gt4UBT-VfKLL3KSGeWf3Eq7B2WVClsQP-XfW8bpUN15jnaZGSQYmefXgWbpwbqPTfBJa4Nv-z3AWk05mX7A6fsX3EAY_4i3ZkJo0I0hs8Cwfjw0QxmcGhj/s1600/12238144_10154964669077228_5834234496393091563_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7174pRf_wUcw5Tz9cGAsQ0Gt4UBT-VfKLL3KSGeWf3Eq7B2WVClsQP-XfW8bpUN15jnaZGSQYmefXgWbpwbqPTfBJa4Nv-z3AWk05mX7A6fsX3EAY_4i3ZkJo0I0hs8Cwfjw0QxmcGhj/s320/12238144_10154964669077228_5834234496393091563_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This photo may have been taken that fateful Fall evening! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQJRWeQHLa88aepknwgy64rhZBL-FBmfWCWQsAVTpOoEK9h1te0AFQnEM-qk5mmIi3DU6MnT_iMXLr2NlHFLRPGusPme0ueaE4yJm4lFXmawUbE8N0-u3r5Ji59UUjYhlWwyNBh332J13/s1600/1622212_10153707080052228_872424753675910000_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQJRWeQHLa88aepknwgy64rhZBL-FBmfWCWQsAVTpOoEK9h1te0AFQnEM-qk5mmIi3DU6MnT_iMXLr2NlHFLRPGusPme0ueaE4yJm4lFXmawUbE8N0-u3r5Ji59UUjYhlWwyNBh332J13/s320/1622212_10153707080052228_872424753675910000_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful lush backyard at Sonia Kay's by the Bay!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnv8Zkur389tr-ERusKEVi-6UdXiqG96E-11YFz5QwN_JK5f6ELGQSRk8-nPt8n-xbg2bm-l-PsjCkkKgHszMRROgORKGYUcB_8PQ44wZN2pLz6BPSqVL2KHU9rF57DyBL0oaDX5cn1Tw/s320/12001038_10153589406882440_8674117070151753981_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the Western shore of the Chesapeake Bay, we don't see the sunset ...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc8ZrfQghREAQUXHNyvZGMj5DMj3IrF_17PAzeT59M1I_ixrdpMCQPsU7bkLUGrR23qH6csxyjTCgxyXfJoWObyCxfT77ifbJGOrZfH75nxhMIWPD1Jsw5KRdqtRH7nhxlyLB5_qBxVTjo/s1600/12027131_10153589559187440_3606182325816193752_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc8ZrfQghREAQUXHNyvZGMj5DMj3IrF_17PAzeT59M1I_ixrdpMCQPsU7bkLUGrR23qH6csxyjTCgxyXfJoWObyCxfT77ifbJGOrZfH75nxhMIWPD1Jsw5KRdqtRH7nhxlyLB5_qBxVTjo/s320/12027131_10153589559187440_3606182325816193752_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But just look how the sunset reflects off the water!</td></tr>
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My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-77784707886021183762016-11-12T08:40:00.002-08:002016-11-12T08:43:43.945-08:00Regarding the Recent Election<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After the last few days of the Presidential election and subsequent victory of a man half the country didn't vote for, I thought I would write about my memories of how my family handled elections while growing up. Then I remembered that wouldbe violating my "no politics" rule on my personal blog. So, I'm</span> sharing about one of the most important decisions I ever had to make as a parent and how that decision shaped my political perspective to what it is today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was never a very good student. I was a goof-off. I talked too much and quite frequently got in trouble. My mother used to say that I was very smart and bored in class. I am not sure if that's true. I wonder if I would have been labeled and medicated had that sort of thing existed. What I do remember is being very interested in reading. I loved to read and would get in trouble occasionally for reading by flashlight under the covers. I did not love to study and I did not love how restricted I felt in school. I started working part time in 11th grade and after starting to make money and having the freedom that it bought, I chose not to further my education past a high school diploma.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As an adult I continued to read and felt a kinship with the biographies and autobiographies of self-taught Americans. A few of my friends chose to homeschool their children and after my daughter began public school in Kindergarten, I felt called to look into the possibilities. Maybe the fact that I never went to college helped me, but I never questioned my ability to teach her. What could she possibly need to learn that I was incapable of learning too? She was so tired at the end of the day in 1st Grade. It took so much out of her. She loved school, but she seemed to be stressed out by the teacher pleasing that school took. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In Kindergarten she would come home with homework that instructed her to write a number several times across the page and then it would tell her to draw something that number of times. I have a vivid memory of the number 12 and the 12 lady bugs she had to draw. There were so many tears. The lady bugs were not perfect and she loved her teacher. How could she turn in a project that was not perfect? That's when the light bulb went off in my head. She didn't have a clue what this lesson was about. The purpose was to learn the number 12. She thought it was an art project. My heart broke for her and the wheels began to turn.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I spent most of her 1st Grade year starting a business and planning for homeschooling. Regarding the starting a business - again, had I been to college I would have learned that one does not just start a business. There is so much more to it than that - business plans, marketing plans, licensing, capitol, etc. Had I know what I should have I would have never done it. In retrospect, my lack of education served me better than an education would. I had no fear of failure, because I didn't realize I was expected to fail. What I learned over that year - her 1st grade of school and my first year of business was that God gave me the ability and the rights to pursue our dreams. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">What did I hope to teach my child through my parenting and as her teacher? My goal for both of us was to take all those labels that signal probable failure or at least disadvantage and roar past them on the road to a life of our own design. A single unwed mother with a an only child abandoned by one parent. According to the statistics, we would be on a road of government entitlements and public school and daycare and a safe job with good benefits. In short, a life of mediocrity and merely surviving. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">On behalf of both of us, I chose freedom. And we have taken full advantage of our life outside the box the world expected us to live in. If that still doesn't make my politics clear, this is it: I need just enough government in my life to keep our world safe. Beyond that, we're fine on our own.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQ424yIK3TqNGPTs3a9aQIzWt84xSqPRb4LC6exFa3zAcK-8BMSVHy27HwkTg60ybyCPM6P999gviq_ExXL8Ig6fd9Lq-muEBJzlYuEECgkTdo_zb_vfDa6-GTSPWRaxyct2nnYJbKCkg/s1600/3c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQ424yIK3TqNGPTs3a9aQIzWt84xSqPRb4LC6exFa3zAcK-8BMSVHy27HwkTg60ybyCPM6P999gviq_ExXL8Ig6fd9Lq-muEBJzlYuEECgkTdo_zb_vfDa6-GTSPWRaxyct2nnYJbKCkg/s400/3c.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With one of the artisans at Roanoke Island Festival Park. Manteo, NC</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPLvi-moaP4a9ZHobrbmhbVCEH88GBNIjIhm7wmp0ZJA9LPtYmheWZqd2no3QWL1jxGIOer7ZLVA6zk68k404fvasK6Pb93sWPNXQW-aGcfj6v15lrZtfqOQKvH7wP5XRzBh0MuR5a31k/s1600/6b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPLvi-moaP4a9ZHobrbmhbVCEH88GBNIjIhm7wmp0ZJA9LPtYmheWZqd2no3QWL1jxGIOer7ZLVA6zk68k404fvasK6Pb93sWPNXQW-aGcfj6v15lrZtfqOQKvH7wP5XRzBh0MuR5a31k/s400/6b.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding her first horse at Cacapon State Park. Berkeley Springs, WV</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7SyMK8BNv57jl4fe5JfjcuAqzt_RYx_q0f0wfJUSKkkzHu-rIvCkLFNS_ALhYE6hz0iiTu9WM5OWDWY9awTJGDHXe53tedDBFb035I1KhP-9QjUI-TDpQuTetJDSvBu85OnGH6RH-Htm/s1600/9a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7SyMK8BNv57jl4fe5JfjcuAqzt_RYx_q0f0wfJUSKkkzHu-rIvCkLFNS_ALhYE6hz0iiTu9WM5OWDWY9awTJGDHXe53tedDBFb035I1KhP-9QjUI-TDpQuTetJDSvBu85OnGH6RH-Htm/s400/9a.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharing a birthday with Thomas Jefferson at Monticello. Charlottesville, VA</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5xSz_u8ZYmZjOkI31yQMuGihWq7vQ4b1dvV_KLMp2Ahll6CST5bzwt1aHDBx-J52a9iUokOtyh3kfgsXoGrirUDR3d19IsEX1zJiXW-wDknPKWzjxWeu6RNr518xS_8wdO8h8D1LG-G3/s1600/67.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5xSz_u8ZYmZjOkI31yQMuGihWq7vQ4b1dvV_KLMp2Ahll6CST5bzwt1aHDBx-J52a9iUokOtyh3kfgsXoGrirUDR3d19IsEX1zJiXW-wDknPKWzjxWeu6RNr518xS_8wdO8h8D1LG-G3/s400/67.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snake handling with the naturalist at Cacapon State Park</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 273px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 2117px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 273px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 2117px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-76089588981212853612016-09-09T14:05:00.001-07:002016-09-09T14:06:15.105-07:00Our First 90 Days of Marriage<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYkTVRoRefkNSP4U2fpc2KbJXYU24abc_ikKQXljA3QarrhJ-QhbZca6Ca4IcUtyzlGJbF7ZYrvpU_mrwLhrxrLMydEaFzqFQlQoq6dQVQU9egIHsswENBvXMI9caLQermyQ4Dyhda0qJ/s1600/13403310_10154218806449099_7354227563580562525_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhYkTVRoRefkNSP4U2fpc2KbJXYU24abc_ikKQXljA3QarrhJ-QhbZca6Ca4IcUtyzlGJbF7ZYrvpU_mrwLhrxrLMydEaFzqFQlQoq6dQVQU9egIHsswENBvXMI9caLQermyQ4Dyhda0qJ/s400/13403310_10154218806449099_7354227563580562525_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our happy day!</td></tr>
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We married with two completely different approaches at
tasks. Sam’s motto would be, “Never pay someone to do something you can do
yourself,” while mine is, “Never do yourself what you can afford to pay someone
else to do.” I regard it as my contribution to the economy. Alas, this is why
he has better retirement savings than me!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Reviewing our first 90 days of marriage, I’ve learned to help out more…as in physical labor, which I have basically devoted
my life to avoiding. Sam is a retired workhorse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the two years since he retired, he has
learned how to relax more, but he is still a driven man. Yards need to be mowed
at 3 houses, items need to be packed and moved out of his house to the garage
of the new house, regular maintenance on my house, and he’s determined to do as
much as he can of the work at the new house without hiring it out. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In my mind, buying a fixer upper and renovating it meant
calling the Southern Maryland equivalent of Chip and Joanna Gaines and giving
them my wish list. Alas, that’s now how this is going to work! It wouldn’t be
right for me to kick my feet up and while away the hours on Pinterest to show
Sam my desires for our new home. Although I do have a Pinterest board for it,
entitled Willows Ranch Re-do, I have had to roll up my sleeves and get involved
in the process. My area of ability does not include power tools or too heavy
lifting, so I’ve been somewhat limited but I’ve been suiting up and taking the
field.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJZxxyLehKJPi9OTaEw71x69_LLK57Pfbkw7IYwXB0rA3aQjKJsptChvxfsDwaePsLubzO4pHQ6wMyhkSfp2GZH_-bh4wbMkvqkIsIVdtAYmLoUV9hSCCojFoDUzqEpRqxyVxG_k1ogQio/s1600/IMG_9669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJZxxyLehKJPi9OTaEw71x69_LLK57Pfbkw7IYwXB0rA3aQjKJsptChvxfsDwaePsLubzO4pHQ6wMyhkSfp2GZH_-bh4wbMkvqkIsIVdtAYmLoUV9hSCCojFoDUzqEpRqxyVxG_k1ogQio/s400/IMG_9669.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our fixer upper - 1974 Brick Ranch with all original interior</td></tr>
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</o:p></div>
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His gratitude at the end of the day after I’ve
been wrapping breakables and packing boxes and helping to load the trailer is
worth the extra effort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Believe me, I
have never lifted my end of so many heavy items! After the garage was full of
stuff from his old house, I got out there and reorganized it so we could get
more in, because nothing can go in to a house that you’re gutting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’ve been mowing – during one of the
hottest summers we’ve had in a long time – with a push mower because the riding
mower has to stay at his old house until closing. His yard is too big to be
done with a push mower. I have to divide it into thirds and come inside and
cool down and wait until I’m sure I’m not having a heart attack before going
out for the next portion. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s not a perfect process and believe me we’ve had our
share of arguments. The day after I weeded and planted some flowers in our
front flower bed he asked me to help him carry the flooring he had taken up out
to the trailer. For about ten minutes I gathered up armloads of flooring and
took it out through the garage and dumped it at the back of the trailer. After
watching me go through this process several times, without a word, he hops in
the truck and backs the trailer across my new garden up to the front door. Seriously?
Words, please…you could have communicated this to me so that I wouldn’t have
wasted those trips. He just shrugged and said, “I’ll buy you more flowers!” A
man of few words who is used to working alone doesn’t always do a great job at
telling me what’s in his head, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and it’s
interesting how two grown adults can go at one task so differently.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4sJSWyQ2FlQFsxoMitP2yPDw-f0Si9exAFM6xVbuG8OpNu4XTWEaOCXmtSTq8EkyzAKjXLymTchjy6P-ujuyp8UFAUtA9d-eI8g-CtELTYdQEhCId3s6oJnxXGB3Kc5w8CWO5eqzrO0n5/s1600/LeeAnnandJohn+%2528140+of+680%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4sJSWyQ2FlQFsxoMitP2yPDw-f0Si9exAFM6xVbuG8OpNu4XTWEaOCXmtSTq8EkyzAKjXLymTchjy6P-ujuyp8UFAUtA9d-eI8g-CtELTYdQEhCId3s6oJnxXGB3Kc5w8CWO5eqzrO0n5/s400/LeeAnnandJohn+%2528140+of+680%2529.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've gone from this...</td></tr>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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He’s always good at reminding me to be careful of upcoming
dangers. Last week as we were carrying his couch into the garage he warned me
that the wood shelving on the floor had nails in it. And then he stepped right
on it and put a nail through his shoe into his foot. He assured me his tetanus
shots were up to date as he hobbled to finish unloading the last of the
furniture. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzO4o_JCqUyY9V_V3pdREfzqW6a3GLuYNiz8195xlvFXdUkmHQ4qsaYIr37kIlad_kRjJbD0Sto-a92F_xeNFedyfdNJeOo_LR2yITV8QilG9-1zcVuaq7Sw5s1ob4Cz2PU_DaN_8Gszpt/s1600/IMG_0423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzO4o_JCqUyY9V_V3pdREfzqW6a3GLuYNiz8195xlvFXdUkmHQ4qsaYIr37kIlad_kRjJbD0Sto-a92F_xeNFedyfdNJeOo_LR2yITV8QilG9-1zcVuaq7Sw5s1ob4Cz2PU_DaN_8Gszpt/s400/IMG_0423.jpg" width="347" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To this! But I'm getting mega-points for helping out!</td></tr>
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So our first 90 days have been an adventure and I can not
thank God enough that we both have a sense of humor. After a particularly hot
day of lawn mowing I caught a glimpse of myself passing the hall mirror and
decided to send him a picture of me. When I saw him later we had a big laugh about it! I may not look like I did on the day we said
our “I Do’s” but I know that he appreciates having a partner who is willing to
break a sweat and work as a team.</div>
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My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-25953328090182018092016-08-24T07:06:00.002-07:002016-08-24T07:07:47.110-07:00My, Umm, Our Beach HouseI've been thinking of a new name for my blog and all that goes with it - Facebook page, etc. It's been My Beach House for so long but I just got married in June and we are renovating a bigger beach house so I've been thinking of a new name. Driftwood Shores, because my husband is a part-time driftwood artist, Willow Shores, because the new house is in a neighboring community called The Willows. I've actually lost some sleep over this.<br />
<br />
After two and a half months of marriage, having been single for more years than I want to admit, I believe I've come upon the perfect name:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><strike>MY</strike>, umm, OUR BEACH HOUSE</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
After this very short period of marriage it has become quite clear to me and my husband that we are so used to living alone (with the exception of our kids, one each), that sometimes it's hard to remember you have another person to consider. And because he has such a generous and mannerly nature, when I say "WE" I mean "ME." He will always pour me a cup of coffee. He will even ask if I want another one. He never leaves things lying around, unless I'm supposed to review or sign something, which I might get to in days. On the other hand, I'm the person who pours one big glass of wine and then plops down on the couch and says, "What?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
My story about finding Mr. Right is very long, but I wrap it up in a little snippet I call, "THE LIST." All of my friends and my husband have heard it a dozen times so I'll write it here and never mention it again. In all the years that I was alone and longing to find love, a list developed. My list included the things that I was looking for in a partner. Of course, my list was longer at 50 then it was at 25, which is why I had been divorced for so long. If I'd been as picky my first time around...well, that's another story! The top items on my list were: a man who is kind, a man who makes me laugh, a man who likes to travel, a man who is good to my child, a man who is a Christian. I only had one physical requirement - a man who is tall. While my husband meets all of that criteria, including being 6'7", there were other less important items that he didn't meet. But that's not the surprise in the story. The punchline of "THE LIST" is how completely surprised I was that he had his own list. And the newsflash was that I didn't meet all of those items. This is what happens when we spend too long alone. We are the only person in our story except for the unknown love that is out there somewhere. Imagine my shock that he had his own list. And then imagine my humbling when he chose me anyway.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We've been married for almost three months now and together for almost five years. We had our own lives 80 miles apart and spent a considerable amount of time away from each other. Now that we're making our lives together every day, it's a big adjustment. Much of it is humorous. We have both had to apologize often and bite our tongues daily! Throw in that we are both retired and we have purchased a home that needs renovations. We each own a home and fortunately his has finally sold. And my college senior daughter is living at home this semester while doing an internship locally. It's been quite a summer. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
At this point, those major qualities on my list have had to be exercised often, especially the sense of humor and following Christ. Between them both, I am reminded often that this is a shared journey and that I have much to learn about being less selfish, more faithful, and to put my husband first. That was when I knew that I had finally met the man I longed for - when his happiness became as important to me as my own. But I've also discovered that love and marriage are as much action verbs as they are nouns. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-35676285935849096272016-08-01T08:31:00.001-07:002016-08-01T08:31:43.160-07:00365 Days of GratitudeA few years ago I participated in a Facebook event called <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1091725090856108/" target="_blank">101 Days of Gratitude</a>. The first day was 101 days before Thanksgiving and the event culminated on Thanksgiving Day. The next year, I started one of my own events and invited my Facebook friends. It is a marvelous and spiritual avenue for counting and sharing your blessings. This year, when Thanksgiving Day came, we all shared that we would be sad for it to end.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My parents - Grateful for life and their love</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioaMmH2j6Cu8tltX1DuCCE42Pi6N1nKmBsnrkdDAY56fgN4ily7sBDM8ZrPnWcjixXqHlvOD-OrrrI-x2tyVTOoEGsKaDPhKZsFjOjaNt9kIyZEH_Xg11JgNMso5IqZZs6bXZ8bSFNibZ7/s1600/day5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioaMmH2j6Cu8tltX1DuCCE42Pi6N1nKmBsnrkdDAY56fgN4ily7sBDM8ZrPnWcjixXqHlvOD-OrrrI-x2tyVTOoEGsKaDPhKZsFjOjaNt9kIyZEH_Xg11JgNMso5IqZZs6bXZ8bSFNibZ7/s320/day5.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My childhood home for the first 18 years of my life!</td></tr>
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I changed the name of the group to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1091725090856108/" target="_blank">365 Days of Gratitude</a>, and the group has continued. We don't share every day like we do during the 101 Days, but we keep in touch regularly and share what is going on in our lives and ask for prayers when needed. The group has been a wonderful way to focus on the things that are important: family, love, art, beauty and laughter. 2016 may go down as the most cynical year in American history!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkcHWYNNjkX6yxwk-UqbT573xnb2OCEN7cJ78A-0P0GFB1G6y5d0S-BwSYeZbAayiLgZZcAEgzb20N3424KGErutBL3JW_FUdvU47WCXLRnxGncjmOnUtTnhk3Z4Aq81u3q-SlAvnoBBL/s1600/180906_10150108032052440_1479221_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkcHWYNNjkX6yxwk-UqbT573xnb2OCEN7cJ78A-0P0GFB1G6y5d0S-BwSYeZbAayiLgZZcAEgzb20N3424KGErutBL3JW_FUdvU47WCXLRnxGncjmOnUtTnhk3Z4Aq81u3q-SlAvnoBBL/s400/180906_10150108032052440_1479221_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Bible - so grateful for God's Word.</td></tr>
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August 11, 2016 is Day 1 of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1091725090856108/" target="_blank">101 Days of Gratitude 2016</a>. We welcome all to join us. Every year I am so thankful for many new things to add to the most precious blessings that I hold near. It is an effort some days to come up with something new. It stretches me to focus on the positive. What about you? Are you thankful for the air you breathe, your health, your children or that 10 year old dog who is your faithful companion?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzOp1PakiljZdK3h88VjYeaOUPPaH2NCHo9giW6y0m5h4GCfaVpPU1oA3nRonmdK4Hw9ZQDWhpHh3U_il3y_ppZP84wvUV0gPicFak9C4JGrUY4H01ZG45w4P1i20792Pg4Af1KNe35sd/s1600/Day32.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzOp1PakiljZdK3h88VjYeaOUPPaH2NCHo9giW6y0m5h4GCfaVpPU1oA3nRonmdK4Hw9ZQDWhpHh3U_il3y_ppZP84wvUV0gPicFak9C4JGrUY4H01ZG45w4P1i20792Pg4Af1KNe35sd/s320/Day32.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laughter - is there anything better?</td></tr>
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This year I have some new blessings that I've collected over the last year: my husband, our new home, our new community, some new friends, renovations, new goals. I'm looking forward to the daily focus on gratitude. The Lord has been so good to me. I've added some photos of gratitudes from year's past. Think about how you have been blessed and share them with us over on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1091725090856108/" target="_blank">365 Days of Gratitude. </a>Looking forward to meeting you!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beauty of Nature. </td></tr>
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My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-68879692071387886632016-07-16T10:13:00.000-07:002016-07-16T10:14:54.241-07:00A Morning Meditation<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We missed the sunrise by about half hour but we still
managed to paddle away from the shore around 6:30 a.m. The 90-100 degree heat
of the last two weeks makes it easy to stay inside, and retirement makes it
easy to sleep in, but I committed myself to it today and managed an early rise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We paddled straight out into the Chesapeake Bay away from
the beach in the path of the day’s new sun. After awhile, we just stopped
talking and paddled and floated on our own. Black coffee still hot in my
thermos mug and as I leaned back my thoughts turned to God. That old saying,
“If you feel far from God, ask yourself, ‘Who moved?’” I never feel far from
God but that’s sort of the problem. Over the last few years I don’t think of
Him enough.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">I began talk to Him, quietly meditating on His
presence. The slight current slapped gently along the bottom of my kayak, as I
closed my eyes and breathed in the air.
A look around and I could see Sam at least a football field away, doing
the same thing. Just laid back, feet propped up on the bow, rising and falling
with the water. Why don’t we do this
more often – enjoy the early morning when no one else is around?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">All the normal excuses: we spent the spring planning a wedding, a
honeymoon, buying a house, trying to sell one, getting our joint finances in
order, helping our kids, doing laundry, making meals, living day to day.</span><!--EndFragment--></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But at that moment on the water, I thought of all the
horrible news the world has had lately – terrorism here and abroad, politics
pitting us against one another and the lawlessness of our leaders. I ask God to
help me again, “Help me focus on you, Lord. Help me to honor you.” Early
morning trips on the kayak or long walks, getting back to healthy eating and
exercise. Find a church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Help
others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pray more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve lived an amazingly blessed life. I’ve
suffered loss and heartbreak but God’s blessings overshadow those. It’s time to
be more mindful. I’m shooting for the actual sunrise tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-88811308358566799222015-11-10T16:24:00.001-08:002015-11-10T16:25:45.872-08:00Fifty-fiveI turned 55 last Friday. I was thinking that in honor of that milestone, I would list 55 things about me that I would like my readers to know. Then I realized that I probably don't have 55 readers and making lists that long would probably discourage anyone who is considering following.<br />
<br />
So, first, you're welcome. And second, in honor of my faithful readers, I will only post a list of ten things. I will just dip my hand into the fishbowl and pull out a slip of paper to determine what category my list will cover.<br />
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<br />
List 10 topics that are on my mind lately. I'm glad I picked this because quite frankly, I've had a lot on my mind lately and maybe by listing them, I can come up with the sub-categories for the blog.<br />
Here goes - in no particular order.<br />
<br />
1. Getting married. I'm getting married on June 4, 2016. A little strange being a 55-year old bride.<br />
<br />
2. Finding our new home. We have two. We would like to sell one and buy another one in the South. We've started exploring and need to do more of that.<br />
<br />
3. Retiring. Having sold my business after 15 years, I am currently on contract with the new owners until 1/31/16. After that, who knows? Maybe you all can help me figure that out.<br />
<br />
4. Faith. It's been about 7 years since I belonged to a church or attended regularly. I miss it. My faith is strong but I think I'd like to be part of a church community again.<br />
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5. My 20-year old daughter. She's always on my mind. And frequently on my nerves. Off at her junior year of college - I miss her greatly.<br />
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6. Crochet and crafting. Don't laugh. My mother taught me to sew and crochet many, many years ago. Right now I'm relearning crochet and it's my latest board on Pinterest.<br />
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7. Whole 30. I guess the topic is really better nutrition - eating right, drinking less, more exercise, etc., but I started another Whole 30 yesterday so that will be a focus for the next 28 days.<br />
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8. My fiance. He's really a wonderful guy. I don't give him enough credit.<br />
<br />
9. Politics/Current Events. Watching the debate tonight while I crochet! We're in a pickle in this country. We need some leadership.<br />
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10. Books. I have a casual little book club on Facebook called My Beach House Book Club. This month we're reading The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah.<br />
<br />
As soon as I wrap this up I'll think of 5 other things that are on my mind. But I just got a phone call from my girl who wants to discuss her day. I need to get that call done by debate time!<br />
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<br />My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-31501424903697989892015-11-04T09:46:00.001-08:002015-11-04T09:48:16.863-08:00Looking at Retirement or Something Like ItWhen I posted in the New Year, I was really looking forward to being able to write about the pending sale of my business. I knew that I had been given a preliminary contract which forbade me from talking about the negotiations publicly, so I figured I would wait until I could talk about it. In the meantime, or so I thought, I would write about all the other things that were happening. When I posted in January it was about getting pink eye for the first time. What I didn't realize then is that I would have several more rounds of it before the infection cleared. I was miserable. And so happy once it finally cleared only to discover that my tear ducts had completely closed, which left me unable to wear makeup and tearing constantly.<br />
<br />
Factoid: Our tears do not come <i>from </i>our tear ducts; our tear ducts are their to drain our tears. And they are part of our sinuses. You hear about babies having tear duct surgery but rarely adults. So, of course, this happens to me because I can't just get normal crap like most people. Several years ago when I almost died of C-diff colitis, my research basically said only geriatrics and toddlers come down with this, not healthy 40-somethings. What can I say - I have to stand out somewhere. So yeah - not <i>blocked </i>tear ducts, but closed tear ducts. My eye doctor TWICE performs a procedure where he takes tiny little snippers and snips open the opening to my tear ducts. Within a few days of each procedure, they close up again. So about a month ago (mind you people, I have worn minimal makeup since Christmas 2014. Thank goodness I have John because it's scary, trust me), I have real surgery - general anesthetic included - where they insert tubes into my tear ducts that look like fishing line and tie them off inside my sinuses. Seriously. Here's what it looks like:<br />
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You can see the tube running from the top tear duct to the bottom. This is not my eye, but that's what it looks like. For 7 weeks. I'm in week 3 and I don't know if this is working. Still lots of itching and watering. If this doesn't work the next step is more invasive sinus surgery where they make an incision on the sides of your nose near your eyes. Let's not talk about that now.<br />
<br />
The point of this was simply to state that I was so excited that I was going to be writing about all the things that have been happening in my life but I wasn't able because I couldn't talk about the possible sale of the business and plus one is not really up for writing blogs when they can barely see. So ten months after my first bout of pink eye, I'm not really sure what's up with my eyes but there are a few milestones that I plan to write about in the upcoming posts:<br />
<br />
1. I did sell my business. After 14 years of wondering what my exit strategy would be, it showed up looking for me.<br />
2. John and I have set a wedding date - June 4.<br />
3. We're researching possible retirement moves to the south. More on our trip to Wilmington, NC soon.<br />
4. My daughter is finally at her dream college and I'm a somewhat empty nester.<br />
<br />
So much more. But I'll leave things here for now. I've missed putting my thoughts down. More soon!<br />
<br />My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-46039043227181652382015-01-04T15:28:00.000-08:002015-01-04T15:29:04.161-08:00Pink Eye and the FogThe week before Christmas, with many gifts unwrapped and projects unfinished, I came down with pink eye. I had never had it before, so at 54 years old with a goopy, itchy eye, I became quite disabled. For three mornings I woke up with my eye sealed shut with the crusty infection. During the day, it would itch so much that I would have to lay down with a hot cloth over my eye and just rest. This isn't something that I normally do - especially during the holidays - to lay down with nothing but my thoughts. I did a lot of thinking.<br />
<br />
One of the things I thought about was the precious gift of sight. Having had Lasik surgery 4-5 years ago, I still have the doctor's orders in my memory, "Do not rub your eye!" And so, as I rubbed and rubbed, I would worry about whether it was possible to move that top layer around and injure the eye further or even go blind. I'm not sure if people who have never had eye surgery would worry about that over a simple case of pink eye, but I did.<br />
<br />
At one point, laying on the bed at John's house, I was thinking about what my life would be like if I went blind. Although my mind turned to something that I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit, I am actually glad that it happened. It was a moment of clarity about where my focus should be in the New Year. John and his son were in the living room watching television which I could barely hear and I lay in the quiet bedroom with a warm cloth over my eye. I thought, "If I were blind, I would not be so distracted by other things. If I were blind, I would focus more on Christ and prayer." Within seconds of this thought, I was incredibly aware of what had justs gone through my mind and I was humbled. I really need to remember that and focus more on Christ. I need to learn how to overcome distractions to devote myself to Him.<br />
<br />
I was finally able to drive and make it back to the Beach House on Sunday night and I awoke in the morning to a thick fog over the Chesapeake Bay and the lovely song of fog horns from the ships out on the bay. As I sat in the back room listening to the fog horns and drinking my morning coffee I thought about the beauty of that lonesome, mournful sound. Ships calling out in the fog to one another, "I'm here! Take note!" My thoughts went to my previous musings about being blind, and I felt instantly that God was underscoring that with the sound of the fog horns. The Lord said, "I'm here! Take note!"<br />
<br />
I am not a New Year's Resolution type of person. Seriously. I'm not in bad shape, but I am not motivated so much by creating challenges for myself. I seem to focus more on relationships than getting in shape. In 2014, I enjoyed some wonderful milestones and a few setbacks. I'm pretty happy with my life and I don't feel like I would be happier if I weighed less or made more money. But I do feel the yearning for a closer relationship with my maker. I remember how I felt when I relied on Him more and I do want to work to get that back. I remember my morning coffee and Bible reading and how that set the tone for my day. I remember the fellowship I felt when I belonged to a church and I miss that.<br />
<br />
In many ways, my relationship with God is better than it was back then and in others it's not. I think the best place to start may be what I was shown in the week leading up to Christmas. Be still, close your eyes, just wait on the Lord's fog horn and follow that sound.My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-65775287139684006152014-12-16T17:40:00.001-08:002014-12-16T17:41:55.363-08:00Faith and Worry, Worry and FaithThe last few days have not been good. I've allowed myself to be pulled in to someone else's issue. It's hard - I love my daughter, my family, my friends, my fiance - and it took me a long time to learn that people sometimes have to go through their own stuff.<br />
<br />
When finally, after a long, ugly path, I allowed myself to surrender to the love of God, I would often think about how hard it must be for Him to watch us and not intervene. I know He could. And sometimes we wonder why He doesn't. It's hard to be a parent, I think of what God must experience as He watches us flounder around and make the same stupid mistakes over and over again. I imagine that He spent a lot of time doing a "face-palm" when it came to me. And I'm sure He still does from time to time. But I'm starting to learn that I don't have to know the outcome of everything and I don't need to manipulate and orchestrate events. I also don't need to get involved in other people's stuff. Yet, I still sometimes do.<br />
<br />
Watching someone you care about struggle to make sense of what the right things to do or say are is painful. The struggle is real, y'all! They say that we often lost patience with people when their floundering about reminds us of our own. This is certainly true in this situation. I remember many years ago, when I was in a relationship that was not good for me, I would talk to my friends about what I should do. Every single one of them said, "You know what you need to do, you need to end this relationship." But I wasn't ready. What I wanted them to tell me was one more thing that I hadn't tried yet. A dear friend would say to me, "Life is too short to spend it wanting to be with someone who doesn't want to be with you." I would think to myself, "What is he talking about?" I laugh about it now - but I had no idea how those words applied to my situation at all! Another friend would say, "I guess you just haven't had enough yet." I must have been an extremely frustrating person to be around.<br />
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So, I pray for patience and discernment. I pray for their heart and their peace. And most of all, I pray that whatever the outcome of this situation, that it will lead them closer to the God who loves them unconditionally. I am a very poor substitute for the unconditional love and grace of God.<br />
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<br />My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-68291890654054564442014-12-02T19:08:00.001-08:002014-12-02T19:11:33.500-08:00Ridiculous CuriosityIt's been awhile since I wrote a blog post. It's certainly an easier forum for sharing my opinions than commenting on Facebook but for some reason I enjoy the back and forth there. And I have to admit that for the last couple of years my desire to comment on current events has been largely about politics or things that I don't necessarily think relate to the spirit of My Beach House. Soooo, we come somewhat full circle back to a desire to comment on other interests of mine: the spiritual, books, creativity, art, clean eating, motherhood, and more. Just not politics! And so, if you're in fear that I am indeed as one-dimensional as you have suspected, I promise no politics.<br />
<br />
Really.<br />
Pinky-swear.<br />
<br />
There really are a lot of things to explore. Because I do have a ridiculous curiosity for things. Lots of things. They don't even connect sometimes. The state of education means a lot to me. But so does music. And that I am drawn to older music lately through Spotify and Pandora channels that I've discovered. How I try to stagger my reading: fiction, non-fiction, fiction, etc. Or that for the last six months, other than a movie here and there, my television viewing has been exclusively Gilmore Girl reruns and sports. Go figure.<br />
<br />
I think I have some things to say. It's okay if very few people are interested. Writing is sort of like navel-gazing. It's a drawn out selfie in some ways - one wants to please their audience but realizes that authenticity has its own magnetism.<br />
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<br />My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-30046722970416990872012-09-09T20:01:00.001-07:002012-09-09T20:02:10.290-07:00Flight 93 Memorial<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Nimbus Sans L', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-weight: 300; line-height: 24px;"></span><br />
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Quite by accident we ended up at the Flight 93 Memorial on Saturday of this Labor Day weekend. For various reasons, we had not taken a ride on the motorcycle since the beginning of July and we were really looking forward to going on a long ride. The weather was not looking good but of the three days in the holiday weekend, Saturday held the most promise. And it appeared that heading northwest from Frederick, MD was the best bet.</div>
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I mentioned that I'd read The Johnstown Flood by David McCullough, and that I knew there was a Johnstown Flood National Park there that might be interesting to check out, so we headed west in that direction. Once we reached Rt. 219, we headed north towards Johnstown and that's when we saw a sign that said "Flight 93 Memorial Highway." We checked the map and saw that if we headed east on Rt. 30 it would take us to the Flight 93 Memorial.</div>
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As we entered the town of Shanksville, Pa we started seeing a lot of other motorcycles turning into the Flight 93 National Memorial - which is maintained by the National Park Service. The drive leading up to the park is a couple of miles long. As you survey the area it dawns on you just how far away from the road this place is. It's incredibly remote and must have been difficult for responders to even reach this place.</div>
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Coincidentally, all the other motorcycles were part of the "Brothers for Flight 93 Memorial Ride" that rode from Philadelphia to Shanksville that day. There must have been fifty other bikes. When you walk up to the entrance you are greeted by a sign that reminds visitors of the somber nature of the memorial and to act accordingly. And there are exhibits by the Visitors Shelter that tell the story of Flight 93.</div>
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Some distance away from the Visitors Shelter, on the other side of the parking lot was a cordoned off section called "1st Amendment Zone" where there was a lone gentleman with a table and signs that said, "9-11 Was an Inside Job." Presumably he had literature to pass out along those lines. I was glad that they had made a space for him away from the actual memorial.</div>
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After we walked around and read the signs, we walked up the beautiful granite walled Memorial Plaza. It was so quiet even with so many people there. Every few feet, there were little ledges cut into the black granite where people had left mementos and notes to honor those killed there. After the first few feet, I found myself reaching out for John's hand. And off to the left in the middle of the field was a mound of grass backed by a grove of hemlock trees. In the front of the mound were several small American flags. I was struck just by the simplicity of it. That was it. There at that mound was the center of the crash - where at 10:03 a.m. on September 11, 2001, a plane crashed at 563 m.p.h. killing all 44 people (including 4 hijackers) aboard. We stood there just looking out and holding hands. I noticed alot of people doing the same. There was a need to hold on to another life while taking all this in.</div>
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<dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" data-mce-style="width: 1034px;" id="attachment_31" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #eeeeee; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-left-radius: 3px; border-bottom-right-radius: 3px; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-color: initial; border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-top-left-radius: 3px; border-top-right-radius: 3px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 1px; border-width: initial; clear: both; color: inherit; display: block; font-style: inherit; font-weight: 300; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.625; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.4em; max-width: 96%; padding-bottom: 9px; padding-left: 9px; padding-right: 9px; padding-top: 9px; text-align: center; width: 1034px;">
<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="color: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.625;"><a data-mce-href="http://alwaysontheright.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/PicMonkey-Collage2.png" href="http://alwaysontheright.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/PicMonkey-Collage2.png" style="color: #1b8be0; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.625; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="size-full wp-image-31" data-mce-src="http://alwaysontheright.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/PicMonkey-Collage2.png" height="1024" src="http://alwaysontheright.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/PicMonkey-Collage2.png" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; border-bottom-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; color: inherit; cursor: default; display: block; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; height: auto; line-height: 1.625; margin-bottom: 0px !important; margin-left: auto !important; margin-right: auto !important; margin-top: 5px !important; max-width: 98%; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto;" title="Flight 93 Memorial Collage" width="1024" /></a></dt>
<dd class="wp-caption-dd" style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, serif !important; font-size: 12px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0.6em !important; margin-left: 0px !important; margin-right: 0px !important; margin-top: 0px !important; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 40px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: relative; text-align: left;">Crash site, pictures of the victims, mementos left at Memorial</dd></dl>
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At the end of the Memorial Plaza is a beautiful white marble wall. The wall is set up in the same direction as the flight path. Etched into the marble are the names of those 40 passengers that died that day. The brochure says that 13 cell phones made 37 calls in the moments after the plane was hijacked. I wonder how many of those calls were placed for those passengers that didn't have phones. During the 35 minutes between takeover and crash, these brave men and women made a decision that would take their lives and save countless others. At the end of the marble wall there are openings that give you a direct view of the mound in the field from the exact direction of the flight. It is chilling.</div>
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<dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" data-mce-style="width: 1034px;" id="attachment_36" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: #eeeeee; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-left-radius: 3px; border-bottom-right-radius: 3px; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-color: initial; border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 1px; border-right-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-top-left-radius: 3px; border-top-right-radius: 3px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 1px; border-width: initial; clear: both; color: inherit; display: block; font-style: inherit; font-weight: 300; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.625; margin-bottom: 1.625em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.4em; max-width: 96%; padding-bottom: 9px; padding-left: 9px; padding-right: 9px; padding-top: 9px; text-align: center; width: 1034px;">
<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="color: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.625;"><a data-mce-href="http://alwaysontheright.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/PicMonkey-Collage.jpg" href="http://alwaysontheright.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/PicMonkey-Collage.jpg" style="color: #1b8be0; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.625; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="size-full wp-image-36" data-mce-src="http://alwaysontheright.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/PicMonkey-Collage.jpg" height="1024" src="http://alwaysontheright.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/PicMonkey-Collage.jpg" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; border-bottom-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; color: inherit; cursor: default; display: block; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; height: auto; line-height: 1.625; margin-bottom: 0px !important; margin-left: auto !important; margin-right: auto !important; margin-top: 5px !important; max-width: 98%; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto;" title="Flight 93 Marble Wall of names" width="1024" /></a></dt>
<dd class="wp-caption-dd" style="color: #666666; font-family: Georgia, serif !important; font-size: 12px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; font: normal normal normal 15px/normal 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0.6em !important; margin-left: 0px !important; margin-right: 0px !important; margin-top: 0px !important; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 40px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: relative; text-align: left;">I immediately saw names of the three men that led the counter-attack.</dd></dl>
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As we walked back up the Memorial Plaza, we took a moment to look at some of the mementos left on the granite wall. One note, paperclipped to a small American flag, read, "You are all heroes. Thank you for your courage. You fought for all of us." And another person left a guitar pick. Before we got back on the bike to take the long winding path back to the main road, we took one last look back at that hill of dirt in the field. We didn't plan to go there, but I'm so glad we did. I think about the families that lost so much back then and I remember picking up my daughter from her 1st grade class that day. I didn't want her to hear about this from anyone but me. So young, so innocent, I wanted to hold her in my arms and keep her safe. Amazing, it seemed like only yesterday, but she started her senior year of high school just last week.</div>
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As we turned back on to the main road, the skies opened and we rode home in the rain. We spent the next three hours soaked to the bone as we rode through the storms, but it just didn't seem appropriate to complain.</div>
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My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-5518734455221924842012-08-19T16:10:00.001-07:002012-08-19T16:56:17.620-07:00Senior Year Starts in Two DaysThis last 18 months has been pretty amazing. The baby and I have taken many trips, including college tours to University of SC, University of FL, University of NC, FSU, College of Charleston and University of N. Florida. We took some other fantastic trips and spent great times with friends and family. I have even found myself in a wonderful new relationship with an awesome man that my friends and family all like. He and I spent the last week on the shores of Ocean Isle Beach, NC with some of his friends, while the baby stayed behind for football practice. As we drove home yesterday, it dawned on me that this is it. Senior year starts on Tuesday and there's no turning back.<br />
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I posted a note on Facebook that says, "These kids grow up hella fast," in an effort to tone down my real feelings. It seems so cliche to ask, "Where did the time go?" but that is what I'm thinking. Seems like these last couple of years that we've been talking about colleges and SAT's and what she wants to be when she grows up and getting a driver's license, I have just passed through in a daze. I really haven't spent a lot of time thinking about her finally growing up and moving on. We get along so well, and I know that no matter where she goes, she'll never completely be gone, but we're in for a lot of changes. It seems like these last couple of years, she's been the one hugging me and wiping my tears rather than the other way around.<br />
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On Tuesday, she'll start her last year of school and in no time, we'll be shopping for prom dresses. How does a mom go from this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQF7v1g9wDqhe-N1VS8uPKMyGRvlWdPuDt1vCHujqmq3-FHWRtiILs4Z1hYeP-apwjukrjACRWnks5Zveeavf-i8KmklT8e6od5Niv49RvU7bK6uc1eaUAJibFasKxUmB0Zwq9LLECLjxO/s1600/00000229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQF7v1g9wDqhe-N1VS8uPKMyGRvlWdPuDt1vCHujqmq3-FHWRtiILs4Z1hYeP-apwjukrjACRWnks5Zveeavf-i8KmklT8e6od5Niv49RvU7bK6uc1eaUAJibFasKxUmB0Zwq9LLECLjxO/s320/00000229.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First day of school Sept. 2000</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First day of school Sept. 2000</td></tr>
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To this: </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maddie on the left with new friend, Aug. 2012</td></tr>
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and keep her sanity? </div>
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It's so bittersweet to watch her excitement for all the possibilities her life has to offer. She's been such a joy and is rarely unhappy. Tonight, two days before school, she is off with two friends to work on a summer assignment. The world, so to speak, is her oyster and while I'm thrilled for her, I can still remember when she was afraid to spend the night away from me. As she chomps at the bit to embark on her life as an adult, I know that all the efforts to protect her and shape her can sometimes mean nothing if this world wants to get hold of her. I pray that all the hours of pleading with God to guide my parenting and to teach me what I need to teach her have been enough. She has never belonged to me - she is His - I just pray that I've lived up to God's expectations. </div>
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My dearest friend, my niece who is 2 years younger than me, became a grandmother for the first time yesterday. I know that in those hours that she stood by her daughter's side that she was completely overcome in the same way that I am today. Her oldest child, only seven years older than mine, is a beautiful wife and now mother of her own precious daughter. The world continues to turn, our family grows, and we give all the glory to God. </div>
My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-90481810421231176542012-08-06T17:59:00.001-07:002012-08-19T16:11:39.308-07:00Bathroom makeover<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our little beach house has one bathroom. That's right - one. bathroom. And there's a teenage girl living here! The entire first floor of our house is painted in a khaki color by <a href="http://www.benjaminmoore.com/en-us/paint-color/berkshirebeige">Benjamin Moore - Berkshire Beige</a>, which works well with the tan and smokey blue accents in the living and dining room. The color was a bit dark though for the bathrom, and when I changed the shower curtain and towels to a pretty aqua color, it still seemed too dark. Additionally, as the towel bars were loose and kept threatening to pull out of the wall, I decided it was time to make a change. I enlisted the help of my favorite handyman who pointed out that it might not be as easy as I hoped!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhWF7nlW7LrFIkLZyXXTehKbAddftmcZiWp9vue61qns69Zky-0WxStdlmCvHcYW0L2KjDJ4rTZl9CUnmneZXm5HdtgNYNh_ywK0VeB30pdiGrtjVz6uxwLmuzA660NTV44NUXIqLBvJA/s1600/Bathroombefore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhWF7nlW7LrFIkLZyXXTehKbAddftmcZiWp9vue61qns69Zky-0WxStdlmCvHcYW0L2KjDJ4rTZl9CUnmneZXm5HdtgNYNh_ywK0VeB30pdiGrtjVz6uxwLmuzA660NTV44NUXIqLBvJA/s400/Bathroombefore.jpg" width="393" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bathroom - before with towel rod, old color and some <br />
paint color testing on the wall.</td></tr>
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It's hard to see from the picture, but the towel bar is attached to a piece of chair molding that was hung at some point in the last thirty years. My handyman mentioned that the chair molding was probably put there because the wall was unable to hold the towel bar - and that was because the studs were not the proper distance from each other. He also was concerned about what we would find behind the molding since it appeared to be glued on and not nailed. At this point our goal was simply to remove the chair rail, paint the bathroom and then hang a shelf that I had purchased that would have towel hooks on it. This would take away the need to have a towel bar.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's what was behind the chair rail. </td></tr>
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After removing the chair rail and discovering that it covered holes made by past towel bars, we had to come up with another plan. We talked about bead board, but the bathroom has very little air circulation and can get extremely humid. This can cause normal wooden beadboard to warp or buckle. Handyman didn't want to use that. So as he checked out options, I was still checking out paint. I really liked a <a href="http://www.benjaminmoore.com/en-us/for-your-home/color-gallery#&ce_s=pismo%20dunes&ce_vm=1">Benjamin Moore color - Pismo Dunes</a>, which you can see in the center of the three test colors, but it was just as dark as what was already there. I settled for a color in between the two right test colors, also <a href="http://Benjamin Moore - Hot Spings Stone">Benjamin Moore - Hot Spings Stone</a>, with their "Super White" trim.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7ZoRN6OoluHhCmlhyxsOm_4wJlQHDHtTVkQzLLFrA91VuTTfuF3JkHJhluymZ50PKh3FIYVQjTTdfplH7yLmDMUzz81M7R8C6QzCnSdGMF3P0rgFdtzLIb0snyxx6bf8h7MjqCYUwx0X/s1600/100_4462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7ZoRN6OoluHhCmlhyxsOm_4wJlQHDHtTVkQzLLFrA91VuTTfuF3JkHJhluymZ50PKh3FIYVQjTTdfplH7yLmDMUzz81M7R8C6QzCnSdGMF3P0rgFdtzLIb0snyxx6bf8h7MjqCYUwx0X/s400/100_4462.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After - with new paint, paneling and shelf with towel hooks.</td></tr>
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We decided to cover the bottom half of the wall with a composite beadboard and trim. This glued on, and then he used a few nails for security in the studded areas. He had to do this the day we left for vacation since he needed to brace it for over 24 hours to make sure the glue held. With only one bathroom, this needed to be done the morning we left town! He used caulk to cover the nail heads and they're almost invisible. The lighter paint color helped to give a little bit larger appearance of a very small bathroom. The shelf had to be placed a bit higher so that it didn't sit right on top of the wainscoting but the towel hooks are not too high since there are no small kids here. In keeping with my "beachy" decorating, I also love the towel hooks and think they add alot to the cottage-y feel.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYyyZpgrSR9dRLm5_fdLgkxdA7L3itHsOTyX6SxXgSFlR2es6q43gK5KAIaLz7KtOB0IjOEDnGZgdCf88MBDWycFsv6MQa1EIUrXZhRCHWobIQpM5X1E896xPsFPAjdyl6KwFrhbvc3Jd/s1600/100_4468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYyyZpgrSR9dRLm5_fdLgkxdA7L3itHsOTyX6SxXgSFlR2es6q43gK5KAIaLz7KtOB0IjOEDnGZgdCf88MBDWycFsv6MQa1EIUrXZhRCHWobIQpM5X1E896xPsFPAjdyl6KwFrhbvc3Jd/s400/100_4468.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Distressed shelf with towel hooks.</td></tr>
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I purchased this shelf over a year ago - it was a colonial mustard color and had four wooden pegs instead of metal hooks. I followed instructions I found on<a href="http://www.prettyhandygirl.com/"> Pretty Handy Girl's blog</a> called <a href="http://www.prettyhandygirl.com/2010/09/aging-is-so-distressing-techniques-for.html">"How to Age, Antique and Distress,"</a> that I had pinned to my <a href="http://pinterest.com/beachhousebooks/projects-jwr/">"Projects"</a> board on <a href="http://pinterest.com/">Pinterest </a>months ago. I painted the shelf two coats of an aqua color - <a href="http://www.color-swatches.com/ace/colors-for-your-life/peace-river/a38-3/swatch.html">Peace River by Ace</a>. I bought the 4.75 oz. tester and it was enough. Then I used the super white and painted two coats of that. Following the instructions from <a href="http://www.prettyhandygirl.com/">Pretty Handy Girl </a>- we used the handheld power sander to make the paint look aged and worn. You can't see it well but the aqua shows through beautifully. Then, again following the instructions, we painted on a little oak stain and wiped it off immediately, to give the wood an aged look. I love the way it turned out - don't you? </div>
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Here's a few more views of my bathroom makeover. What do you think?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZ85OnTkWKBxeUvanE9md6P4rgdniQvuCIwEe9QfeA4w31OGUbjFPdAqigmaNRZozWBgJGzcz5_KQeLR13nQk01mDMvR_9iR9OJBvfahO1jQGVbFUV-fpyBdgIx9h0vP3A6TdCvmZ8Pev/s1600/100_4464.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZ85OnTkWKBxeUvanE9md6P4rgdniQvuCIwEe9QfeA4w31OGUbjFPdAqigmaNRZozWBgJGzcz5_KQeLR13nQk01mDMvR_9iR9OJBvfahO1jQGVbFUV-fpyBdgIx9h0vP3A6TdCvmZ8Pev/s400/100_4464.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other than the paint change and the starfish-shaped dish<br />
of seashells, this side stayed the same.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34E6QFKR3Z1kNOyzbvVHPdSikWSJQH4VJKFjT6ASfkCRjf_fhbqqtI0WHy6aoSAQsE-mY3LaltRY0VgeJUyvNHFKSucdtiZo7gHYslv1zDRgJHywYT9ffLoRPE-rZOcyo6YFvHtM-r1lH/s1600/100_4465.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34E6QFKR3Z1kNOyzbvVHPdSikWSJQH4VJKFjT6ASfkCRjf_fhbqqtI0WHy6aoSAQsE-mY3LaltRY0VgeJUyvNHFKSucdtiZo7gHYslv1zDRgJHywYT9ffLoRPE-rZOcyo6YFvHtM-r1lH/s400/100_4465.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I added the large conch shell, the lantern and a few other<br />
items to the top of the shelf.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6D6EgvuIEJt0ZOQ0T3nd8svIAQWdLRjzsZyq3gC2QGZExNIenBMTpLGzZE_t7p9wUchvGBlq6bvcMg_Zb0GlLtSjZk-gsP-b8x-cgS98Qvt4G-VV9UZjiSiUT1nlLY5mIIlxDy27EhHTC/s1600/100_4466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6D6EgvuIEJt0ZOQ0T3nd8svIAQWdLRjzsZyq3gC2QGZExNIenBMTpLGzZE_t7p9wUchvGBlq6bvcMg_Zb0GlLtSjZk-gsP-b8x-cgS98Qvt4G-VV9UZjiSiUT1nlLY5mIIlxDy27EhHTC/s400/100_4466.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Near the sea, we forget to count the days."</td></tr>
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By the way, I found the shower curtain on a sale endcap at <a href="http://www.target.com/">Target</a> about two years ago and have never seen it since! This gives my bathroom a one of a kind look! They didn't even have towels to match it, I had to get them at <a href="http://www.macys.com/">Macy's</a>.<br />
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<br />My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-30017580184714123132012-06-03T15:30:00.001-07:002012-08-19T16:12:02.060-07:00Sewing Pillow Covers<br />
I want to state outright that this is a post about making pillow covers. There may be moments while you read this that you will think, "Wait, wasn't this a DIY post?" and you'll be right to be confused because lately my mind wanders - alot. And by alot, I mean way more than my usual unfocused, ADD self.<br />
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To start, I will admit sheer embarrassment at how quickly and easily I finished these two pillow covers for the spare bedroom makeover. For all the time and energy I put into putting it off, I could have made a dozen or more of these things. But my mind doesn't work in a logical, linear fashion. If you know me, you are probably laughing at the understatement of that comment. My train of thought is something like this: Birthday, Daughter, Missing my mom, graduation cards, Words with Friends, Pictures, Sewing pillow covers. Got it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZzPxEve9UKLbIAR6sePPMqJib-9teHrF5A137SrBy-cjK_WGvIysBELp8jJMX924pZBYRM7PoOaviNH5o6hSMGBMTDL23S40eayBIfn5vxMCGJ9a7MDb8jMYqQjdW3ablhORoXEmROqU/s1600/IMG_1960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZzPxEve9UKLbIAR6sePPMqJib-9teHrF5A137SrBy-cjK_WGvIysBELp8jJMX924pZBYRM7PoOaviNH5o6hSMGBMTDL23S40eayBIfn5vxMCGJ9a7MDb8jMYqQjdW3ablhORoXEmROqU/s400/IMG_1960.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coral chevron pillow</td></tr>
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Friday afternoon I decided that Sunday would be the day I made the pillow covers. I had previously found a great blog post which gave easy instructions for a no-pattern, envelope-style pillow cover that could be removed for washing. I'm linking you to a blog called <a href="http://settingforfour.blogspot.com/2012/02/diy-pillow.html">Setting for Four</a> in case you want the instructions. Saturday was out because we were planning to celebrate my BFF Betsy's birthday with a cookout, just us girls. So I dug out the sewing machine and washed all the gunk off it from sitting idle in storage for the last 3-4 years and put it in the back room where I would be using it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9Hlc8ZyZ0Yt1DIswDBbg14Bpx-EhBk4t2Y6mkNccPl1mLHb8XcQRoCltZvJIsCAWVDo17VieRFvWVRzWbd_dEOk4UVmKnsfUtA_rBCZUISEkIjR1eEELbO_LrzlkIYuvz68hzHgoWK2A/s1600/IMG_1949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG9Hlc8ZyZ0Yt1DIswDBbg14Bpx-EhBk4t2Y6mkNccPl1mLHb8XcQRoCltZvJIsCAWVDo17VieRFvWVRzWbd_dEOk4UVmKnsfUtA_rBCZUISEkIjR1eEELbO_LrzlkIYuvz68hzHgoWK2A/s200/IMG_1949.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Betsy's gifts<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3hft665zVk5OkTLRryjdDBkeqhfxmWPJtxjtWxogpQtUaAFLyl5Di0UmZdYKiP4Z6jnDSfPhxRf5iN3wnCobQCt2PZKWNo6FOBLExjsJHtFTiGGMsnSqG4Oqyaozw3rLZv-amjxWMN_1r/s1600/IMG_1950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3hft665zVk5OkTLRryjdDBkeqhfxmWPJtxjtWxogpQtUaAFLyl5Di0UmZdYKiP4Z6jnDSfPhxRf5iN3wnCobQCt2PZKWNo6FOBLExjsJHtFTiGGMsnSqG4Oqyaozw3rLZv-amjxWMN_1r/s200/IMG_1950.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My green-eyed girls<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1BXdaAwUXZVbaoJyn3L0PyNdy9jJlelEE9t4yK5Kk4l60O8QNojEWnxalpxdLsbtzJUBEi5ZdoIrlGMwaZpMhOKaEv8p5SJZA7osmdaQ8DrAghZJ_pYC3QXjgw3KunuIHW8B0P7jNwnuA/s1600/IMG_1952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1BXdaAwUXZVbaoJyn3L0PyNdy9jJlelEE9t4yK5Kk4l60O8QNojEWnxalpxdLsbtzJUBEi5ZdoIrlGMwaZpMhOKaEv8p5SJZA7osmdaQ8DrAghZJ_pYC3QXjgw3KunuIHW8B0P7jNwnuA/s200/IMG_1952.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Birthday girl!</td></tr>
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I wake up this morning - somewhat excited about my project and I promptly start sabotaging the day. The girl is going off for the day to work on a school project with friends and stop by a graduation party. For no reason whatsoever, my fear of her growing up kicks in and I start harping on her about always being on the go. Poor thing - she has done very well for having a mentally ill mother. And I don't know why my fears always come out in a lecture. Fortunately, she's used to me! She leaves and I feel bad and give myself a lecture. Then I leave to get coffee and stop by the <a href="http://www.gypsyvintageltd.com/">Gypsy Vintage</a> sale, where I discover the aged wooden shutters I like are still there after two months and I purchase three of them for the headboard project in the spare room. Did you know that a full size bed is 54 inches wide? And the shutters were 18 inches wide each. Score - I got all 3 for $75. The man in my life says he can make these into a headboard. Yea him!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUC_TtrJ5hSNBrotgsGCh1ud8rYV3Y7GBPCKTzKH9qwDvBPkJrz6BwmQHMepcz__v8u93cXQBzTvzASCGTg1xc80jw3uQjJaRYDmXra4T6_4zYf4hZ4cqo4hrTfRgZKEOOwR2gCKT2Wsi9/s1600/IMG_1954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUC_TtrJ5hSNBrotgsGCh1ud8rYV3Y7GBPCKTzKH9qwDvBPkJrz6BwmQHMepcz__v8u93cXQBzTvzASCGTg1xc80jw3uQjJaRYDmXra4T6_4zYf4hZ4cqo4hrTfRgZKEOOwR2gCKT2Wsi9/s400/IMG_1954.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shutters to make headboard</td></tr>
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I come home after buying graduation cards. Really, we know like eight people who are graduating. Am I obligated to put money in these cards? Or can I do it only for the ones who are related to me?<br />
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Okay, we're cooking now. I measure, I iron, I cut, I pin. I sit down at the sewing machine, that I bought at Sears in about 1990, that is in fine condition for the kind of sewing I will ever do and I get a little sad. I start thinking of my mom, who died in 2003, and how she taught me to sew when I was a little girl. She made some of my clothes and I even have a couple of years of school pictures wearing clothes that she made me, like the faux-leather jumper from the 60's.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjr9un4fnRtLqApYmEAqhZrNfTokuYrdG_I_x_tudKbMHiBUKe3hxPDhd3C399-IU7tXIlfSSEsZJ3L6X1Rk3HQohwi3BihQMWE_yh0Yxb5TdnQucQDGAgU8yFNPU4mJQWNnOvtq_zgxHw/s1600/190798_10150150711792440_552472439_6679798_6973247_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjr9un4fnRtLqApYmEAqhZrNfTokuYrdG_I_x_tudKbMHiBUKe3hxPDhd3C399-IU7tXIlfSSEsZJ3L6X1Rk3HQohwi3BihQMWE_yh0Yxb5TdnQucQDGAgU8yFNPU4mJQWNnOvtq_zgxHw/s320/190798_10150150711792440_552472439_6679798_6973247_o.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The home made leather jumper!</td></tr>
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I don't know what grade that is, but it's unfortunate that she didn't put the same amount of effort into my hair that she did to the dress. I really look like a dork in that picture. But don't we all have at least one of those? Anyway, Agnes Russell Stedman, I thank you for teaching me to sew because now I have these awesome pillow covers for the spare bedroom. And because I love this material so much, I think I may buy some more and make roman shades for the windows in that room, but I have to think on that.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGKZYjiuxAqEzNACwOkUycG8A56H3_I9TzYlu_IplRid3cGmr8QvgdLEiAlWKlR8ixNkx7iuhPHALPkhus_ORQiAiAPf4wL9VbFlUDS1U9Yf_0dGuPmpbnNbzUHPqTP3GFCRsBNMks89uU/s1600/IMG_1958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGKZYjiuxAqEzNACwOkUycG8A56H3_I9TzYlu_IplRid3cGmr8QvgdLEiAlWKlR8ixNkx7iuhPHALPkhus_ORQiAiAPf4wL9VbFlUDS1U9Yf_0dGuPmpbnNbzUHPqTP3GFCRsBNMks89uU/s200/IMG_1958.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love this material</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72WmW1a3IF_c2wbhkU3X1Uagog933sNflZfe3-vcYq3Q2_Vvbd13Q5PmEWiZly13N_ICiLJ3d1Bq2aWnaxzXupL2q_DnKXZuZfyVkhi3ybY1z-T180tfLSvFhunQLKFEmQhJFLyoMPPy2/s1600/IMG_1959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72WmW1a3IF_c2wbhkU3X1Uagog933sNflZfe3-vcYq3Q2_Vvbd13Q5PmEWiZly13N_ICiLJ3d1Bq2aWnaxzXupL2q_DnKXZuZfyVkhi3ybY1z-T180tfLSvFhunQLKFEmQhJFLyoMPPy2/s200/IMG_1959.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished pillow</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-XtbEjnWdDR_aOCEyWZWns6rE81OwrBAxx-T6_t87Lcpyd_2n15sFk9cpnhRZvj3VzQIQvYd8aByTeiUmWMFyiBma_Vk3ONPsM-QBCJj0y1bYT7WHcpSwKZOAszsNEplVs2llykwKm6g/s1600/IMG_1962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-XtbEjnWdDR_aOCEyWZWns6rE81OwrBAxx-T6_t87Lcpyd_2n15sFk9cpnhRZvj3VzQIQvYd8aByTeiUmWMFyiBma_Vk3ONPsM-QBCJj0y1bYT7WHcpSwKZOAszsNEplVs2llykwKm6g/s200/IMG_1962.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Envelope-style back</td></tr>
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Clearly what turned out to be about a two hour sewing job took hours on an emotional roller coaster to complete. What do you think of my pillows? Here's a look at the material for the next project.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvjvwygOleucPdfRUs_ja2BQkjjq4p7ETLyPU50hE4zP4QVGPu7wMKJ7f6ljQ6utrmrSDSAdI2y2-TZkMp_-GpZuhn8Md_iQMDohUUIqDI_kZNit4fJC-l8mxPWSRyS8olMmAxkYEpSmp/s1600/IMG_1961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvjvwygOleucPdfRUs_ja2BQkjjq4p7ETLyPU50hE4zP4QVGPu7wMKJ7f6ljQ6utrmrSDSAdI2y2-TZkMp_-GpZuhn8Md_iQMDohUUIqDI_kZNit4fJC-l8mxPWSRyS8olMmAxkYEpSmp/s320/IMG_1961.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Next project!</td></tr>
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<br />My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-35884843904067561422012-05-19T18:21:00.000-07:002012-05-19T18:29:05.530-07:00Guest Bedroom MakeoverMy beach house has a fairly typical layout for the cape cod style beach houses that were built in the 1940's and 50's. Most of them have a staircase that leads to a second floor that originally was wide open. Families would put several twin beds up there and the kids and their friends would take that floor. Over time walls were put up and perhaps a closet. Ours was no different. While there are technically two bedrooms on the second floor, neither of them have a door. You reach the top of the steps and go left or right. Many years ago, when I had the rooms painted, we decided to paint them both in Disney colors so that Maddie could use one side for her bedroom and the other for a playroom.<br />
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About four years ago, at thirteen, she felt the need to paint her side a little more sophisticated and chose a pale grey with black trim. We decided recently to repaint both sides and brighten it up some. We did her room first and she is using a pale teal or aqua as an accent color. The room is a light sand color, Behr Paint "Oyster" and the trim is a pale cream, almost white. It's very nice but I'm not allowed to post any photos of it.</div>
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The other room had become a place for storage over the last several years and still had the Disney paint - a pale green called Tinkerbell and a lavendar that I can't remember the name of. Last year we had a hurricane and needed to evacuate. Although my brother and his wife have no children living with them, they have two spare bedrooms and welcomed us to stay with them for a few days. After we returned home, I vowed to redo that spare room so that if ever we had friends in need, they would have a comfortable room to come to. </div>
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Making changes to the house has been so much easier of late. The man in my life is extremely handy and seems to never tire of doing things for me around the house. In the beginning of our relationship he heard me lamenting that I had very little storage space and took it upon himself to lay plywood in the attic space so that I could store things under the eaves. It is amazing how much space that created. I have all the Christmas stuff on one side with room to spare and have barely begun to start putting things on the other side. Maddie and I put a coat of primer on the walls in her room and he took over from there, completing her room. And this last weekend I helped while he did the bulk of the spare room. There is still a bit to do in there, so I'm not going to reveal the room yet, but I will give you a taste of what it looked like before we got started and in a couple of weeks will have the room complete for posting photos.</div>
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I'll give you a little hint about what's going to be in the new room. The bed that you see with the taupe and cream seashell quilt will be part of the room. And this beautiful, aged, salmon dresser will be in the room too. I'm so excited - working on throw pillows for the bed and a few other touches. Stay tuned!</div>
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<br /></div>My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-68616961633349468572012-05-11T18:32:00.002-07:002012-05-11T18:33:19.345-07:00Mother's Day #17Before my daughter put gas in her car today, I asked her to make note of how many miles were on the trip odometer. 262. In just over a week, the car has gone 262 miles. Couple that with perhaps another 250 miles that she has driven my car without me in it, and she's driven a little over 500 miles on her own. When she gets ready to leave where ever she has gone, she calls me and says she's on her way home. Each time that phone rings and I see her number, for a moment I panic that I might pick up the phone and hear her sobbing on the other end, "Mommy?"<br />
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In the last year, since she first got her learner's permit and then her full license, I have come to realize that the only way a mother survives the years of raising her children is to completely live in denial. Denial that every time you turn away someone might snatch them. Denial that every time they walk out the door, it might be the last time you see them. And we must be tough. Tough when they do something foolish and have to face the consequences. Tough when they are hurt and you can't let them see how terrified you are about that deep cut or that finger that is bent in an odd position.<br />
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Being a mother has required so much more of me than I initially thought. It's certainly not for cowards, although we come across our fair share of them. The ones who care more about being their child's friend than their parent. The ones who do science projects for them. The ones who refuse to believe that their child could do something wrong.<br />
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Recently, I saw the movie Soul Surfer about Bethany Hamilton, the teenaged surfer who lost her arm in a shark attack. When I came home I asked Maddie, "How could you say that's one of your favorite movies? That was terrible!" And I told her, "If I stopped to think about the things that could happen to you every time you walk out that door, you'd never go anywhere!" I was actually sobbing about watching this family go through this terrible event. And my sweet daughter hugged me and assured me that she wasn't going to be eaten by a shark. I suspect she was mocking me, but I was grateful for the hug.<br />
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On Sunday, I will enjoy my 17th Mother's Day. In spite of the dangers that lurk behind every single corner, I honestly wouldn't change one moment of it. Being a mom has been the most joyful and rewarding "job" I've ever had. Being a mom has made me a better person. And most importantly, I have spent 17 years being the mother of a fantastic and smart and funny and beautiful girl. I have been blessed by God beyond my wildest imagination.My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-83997516690755581362012-04-08T08:08:00.002-07:002012-04-08T10:12:05.711-07:00Happy Easter<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I have a soft spot for people who have had less than wonderful experiences with the Christian church. I've been involved in a couple of different churches that, in my humble opinion, were rigid and unforgiving in their orthodoxy or adherence to their own dogma. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not speaking of adherence to the Bible. I'm referring to their set of rules that are, how shall we say, "extra-biblical." In a meeting with the leaders of my last church, it was suggested that I had issues with "submission," to which I responded that I was not against submitting to Christ and the Word of God, but that I would not ever submit to authority which was not biblical. For this, and other defiances, my membership in that particular church was revoked. The letter spoke of the spirit of reconciliation which in their language translated to my confessing my sin and submitting to whatever punishment they would administer, which I suspect would have included some public admission of my divisive behavior. With that in mind, on Easter morning, I give you my favorite story from the Bible, that of the Apostle Thomas.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">"On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj">“Peace be with you!”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26888" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">20</sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.</span></span><br />
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<div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26889" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">21</sup> Again Jesus said, <span class="woj">“Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.”</span> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26890" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">22</sup> And with that he breathed on them and said, <span class="woj">“Receive the Holy Spirit.</span> <span class="woj"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26891" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">23</sup> If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26892" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">24</sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">Now Thomas (also known as Didymus</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="footnote" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-26892a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+20&version=NIV#fen-NIV-26892a" style="color: #651300; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26893" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">25</sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!”</span></span><br />
<div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”</span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26894" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">26</sup> A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, <span class="woj">“Peace be with you!”</span> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26895" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">27</sup> Then he said to Thomas, <span class="woj">“Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”</span></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26896" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">28</sup> Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”</span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-26897" style="font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;">29</sup> Then Jesus told him, <span class="woj">“Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” ~ John 20:20-29</span></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;">I have had dozens of opportunities to share this story with friends on their path to belief, or rededication of their belief. The religion of my childhood, which was followed by a long period of disinterest in religion, was one of few answers. Obedience to the Mass was understood; it just <i>was</i>. It seemed as if everyone involved in my Catholic upbringing didn't have answers to any of my questions. In fairness, however, I wasn't exactly thorough in my seeking. I sort of just drifted away. Over my early adult years, I had no interest in the church although I considered myself a believer. And finally, the thing that led me back to the Lord was becoming a parent - something I suspect is behind many people's return to their faith. </span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="woj">This time, however, I began seeking in the Protestant community and learned through my first church to test the scriptures and take an active part in my spiritual growth rather than just sitting passively to one person's preaching. It was during this time that I heard the story of Thomas and he became my hero. All of my life and in conversations with others, one of the most confusing things was this idea that one does not question God. Yet, here at the end of John's Gospel, is a story not only of the questions and doubts of one of Jesus' disciples, but of a Savior who lovingly invites this disciple to test for himself that He has in fact returned in the flesh. Even writing this, I am overcome with emotion as I read (for the hundredth time) how Jesus tenderly approaches Thomas and says,</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj">“Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”</span></span></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;">And I can picture Thomas, so very, very ashamed, weeping as he simply says, "My Lord and my God." I imagine him clinging to Jesus as that moment and sobbing, "I am so sorry to have doubted." But Jesus isn't angry or upset. He probably hugs Thomas as he cries and says, "It's okay, it's okay." </span></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;">Oh, how I remember the moments as my belief became stronger and stronger. And how I was ashamed to have not only doubted but to have not even recognized the many obvious signs that my Lord and my God was right there, all along just waiting for me to pay Him the slightest attention. When I think back on the time that I was truly lost and alone, I imagine him just watching me stumble and wander. I think about my own child and how painful it would be to watch her make mistakes and hurtful choices knowing that I could not make her see that I was right there for her until she OPENED her eyes. It would have been like watching a blind person in a maze - wanting to reach out and help but knowing that they had to do this on their own. </span></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj" style="font-family: inherit;">My message on this Easter morning to anyone who has any questions - God is big enough to handle any questions, any anger, any doubt you can possibly throw His way. And His arms are open for you to step in when you are ready. And He LIVES! When I turned to Him, I truly had no where else to go and I was so afraid. What if this was the last possibility and it did not work? I did not cross that line easily or willingly - but He has never held that against me. Not for a second. And this life is infinitely better than anything I had even dared to dream of.</span></span></div>My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-35944242269750236452012-02-27T15:05:00.000-08:002012-02-27T15:05:01.186-08:00Problems vs. ChallengesI've always admired those people who never see problems - only challenges. As I've thought and prayed about and mainly tried to ignore my word for the year, discipline, I've realized that I have an attitude problem. Stop laughing - I am generally the last to know when it comes to reading myself. I don't think I'm unique in this cycle of setting goals, dragging my feet, disappointing myself, then dragging my feet about starting the whole process over again.<br />
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As an example, I'll talk about my lack of discipline when it comes to exercise. A few years ago, I lost about 25 pounds and worked out diligently and got in probably the best shape I've been in since I got pregnant over 17 years ago. I felt great, I was energetic, and I looked forward to getting outside or to the gym. I was diligent and disciplined for about nine months, and then I went on vacation. My best friend and my daughter and I went to Florida in May and went out to dinner and enjoyed dessert every night. I had packed my walking shoes and planned to walk on the beach daily. I think I did it twice. When we returned home, I never got back into my workout routine and within two years I'd put all the weight back on and developed back and neck issues which only drained my desire to get moving.<br />
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I am not unique in this. It happens to many people. We find out how great we feel when we exercise and eat right, yet we find it so difficult to maintain that discipline. For me, I think a lot of the issue is self-talk. I'll go to bed thinking I'm going to get up early and walk or go to the gym, but when the alarm goes off my first thoughts are negative. If I can talk myself out of doing what's right, why can't I talk myself into it? In spite of choosing discipline as my word of the year, I've really not done much to embrace a more disciplined lifestyle. I can spend hours thinking about whether it makes more sense to go to the gym early and then come home and shower and dress for work or to take my clothes with me and shower there. There's the problem of having a lock and packing all the things you need. Or, if I come home after, will I get distracted by things that need to be done around here rather than get myself to the office. Sometimes it doesn't help to be the boss. It makes it too easy for a person without discipline to go in at 10:30!<br />
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Last night I set the alarm for 6:00 a.m. I lept out of bed around 7:00 and then drank coffee and checked the internet. Finally, I packed a bag and left the house. I decided to drop off everything I wouldn't need at the gym at the office first so that I wouldn't lose everything if someone broke into my car in the gym parking lot (which has happened to others). I waltzed into the gym at 9:20 and was showered and dressed for work by 10:30. Alright, so I need to improve on that, but I got it done! On the way home this evening, I asked my daughter if she wanted me to take her to school tomorrow. She has to be there by 7:15, so I've committed to getting to the gym a little earlier tomorrow.<br />
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It's only taken me two months from my resolution to actually get there. Next goal: <i>Actually wanting to go!</i>My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-59660513423356950582012-01-29T18:19:00.000-08:002012-01-29T18:21:38.227-08:00ListsI made some progress today in my quest to become more disciplined. First, I made two lists of things I want to accomplish: One entitled "Discipline" lists the things I want to be sure to do every day. The second is a "Home Projects List" which contains the things I'd like to accomplish around the beach house this year.<br />
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The teenager that lives here had a most pathetic weekend - having nothing else to do, she hung out with me yesterday. We went to the grocery store and then out for dinner. Today she graciously completed all the chores I gave her while we both rocked around the house listening to our separate ITunes! And that included doing the two chores I hate the most vacuuming and cleaning the bathroom. She helps me out alot.<br />
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I made a new recipe Slow Cooker Cuban Chicken - a recipe I got from a new magazine from <a href="http://www.bhgsip-mediakit.com/r5/showkiosk.asp?listing_id=4243534&category_id=42956">Better Homes and Garden's "Skinny Slow Cooker"Magazine.</a><br />
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</div>While this was cooking, I took a walk down past the beach to the marina. There was no one there, just the sound of the water against the few boats still in the water. On my list this morning, I listed 30 minutes of exercise. It was a nice walk and I took a few minutes to sit on the dock and just reflect.<br />
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</ul>My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-22705426894696584372012-01-28T18:49:00.000-08:002012-01-28T18:49:54.825-08:00Some Crazy JujuIn the "about me" section of this blog, it mentions that I have an estranged relationship with the church but not with God. So, recently I made a comment on the Facebook page of a Christian author that I've come to respect and enjoy and we've even exchanged some emails. After a few other people commented, I was invited to join this group of people who feel that they've been involved in churches that are spiritually abusive, and some of them personally sent me friend requests. While it took me about 7 years to get kicked out of my church, I lasted in this group for less than a week. In fact, I think I made less than five comments during my tenure with the group. I'm feeling a lot better now. Turns out, I'm a couple years past the anger and sadness, but they've chosen to make a cottage industry out of it. They welcomed me by telling me that I didn't have to worry about judgment or condemnation here like I had found in the church and that I was among friends. This is the kiss of death it turns out. I did not have to worry about judgment or condemnation as long as I was willing to listen to their near constant judgment and condemnation of the church - and certain high-profile pastors and their followers. Life is too short and God is too good, I can't live there anymore. I wish them all the best. Amen.My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-87062940860511334062012-01-26T16:59:00.000-08:002012-01-26T17:00:45.600-08:00DISCIPLINESo I've picked my word for the year: Discipline. Discipline has a few definitions but for my use the word will be defined as follows:<br />
<br />
<ul><li>training that molds or perfects the mental faculties </li>
<li>self-control gained by orderly patterns of behavior</li>
</ul><br />
It is no surprise to those that know me. I am not disciplined. I have a hard time with schedules. I own my own business and I homeschooled my child for seven years, and I believe those choices, in large part, were due to my lack of discipline and that I don't play well with authority. My poor kid - it's a wonder she's survived. On any given day, she is the most mature person in the house.<br />
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That's it. I've picked my word of the year. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cry.<br />
<div class="sblk" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"></div>My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-56164896880353110712012-01-17T17:12:00.000-08:002012-01-18T05:02:32.637-08:00Word of the Year<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">There are several blog pages that I subscribe to on Facebook. One that I love is Kevin and Layla Palmer’s, <a href="http://theletteredcottage.net/">The Lettered Cottage</a>. They have such beautiful and creative decorating ideas and I enjoy Layla’s blog posts. Recently, she posted an inspiring piece called <a href="http://theletteredcottage.net/word-of-the-year-link-party-2012/">This Little Word of Mine Link Party </a>in which she invites other bloggers to link their posts about their “word of the year” selections. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #555645;">The idea for a word of the year comes from <a href="http://aliedwards.com/">Ali Edwards at aliedwards.com</a>. She writes, “</span><span style="color: #3a3c40;">Choosing a word each year came about as an alternative to a list of resolutions. I wanted something I could hold close and actually develop a relationship with over the course of the year.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #3a3c40;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve been thinking about this and what word I could choose. I think it’s such a lovely idea – rather than a list of resolutions – to have a word to keep in your mind, or your pocket, to inspire you to press forward. I made a list of words and I’ve whittled it down to ten words. I will get it down to one, but I need to think about each of these and what it is I hope to achieve this year. Many words came to mind that I didn’t choose: travel, joy, family, adventure, curious, because I want to introduce something new, perhaps work towards something that is more difficult for me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #3a3c40;">Perhaps by writing a bit about each of the ten words, I’ll be able to choose just one as my word for the year. </span><span style="color: #555645;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Attitude: The front-runner. I thought about this earlier this morning and then had a discussion about attitude with my neighbor when we went out for coffee. We talked about how much easier the day goes when we look at our responsibilities as choices. Instead of groaning and wanting to roll over and go back to sleep in the morning, can I adopt an attitude of excitement about my day?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Commitment: An easy one to put on the list - but perhaps not to choose. Probably the only thing I’ve consciously committed to is parenthood. Wouldn’t trade it for the world. I find myself preferring to look at everything else with a “one day at a time” view. Is that wrong? Maybe a deeper sense of commitment in everything I do might push me to the next level. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Deeper: As in commitment and learning and sense of urgency. I've created a pretty great life for my little family. Is this the year to go deeper in learning, decorating, marketing, photography, writing?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Discipline: Maybe a word that makes me cringe should be my word of the year. Discipline sounds a lot like commitment! When I think of discipline, I think of schedules, and then the room starts to spin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Energy: I’m a low energy person a large percentage of the time. I think that’s something I can change – through intentionality. Regular exercise and healthy eating are keys to producing more energy. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Focus: I suppose this one could do double duty with my photography and my difficulty staying on task. If ADD had existed when I was a child, I think they might have wanted to put me on some type of medication. Instead I just got in trouble for being disruptive…some things never change. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Improve: Progress not perfection. As I write this I’ve already decided this will not be it. God has seen fit to effect some change for the better in me every year that I’ve followed Him. It almost seems a bit lazy to pick this one!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Less: As in downsize. Reduce. Let go. Can I do that? Can I continue what I started last year? This would be an interesting task – to weed out what I don’t need or can do without and implement some system of organization? Hmmm, this may be it!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Purposeful: Instead of accomplishing what must be accomplished, could I do it with purpose? Do I attack my tasks and chores with a sense of doing them well or is the goal simply to complete. In addition, what about relationships – can I do a better job of loving and listening with purpose?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Write: Get serious and write. Quit screwing around with opinions and debates and write on both blogs – the personal and the business. Write with attitude. Commit to writing. Go deeper – be willing to expose vulnerabilities in my writing. Write with discipline – insert the dreaded word “schedule” here! Write with energy – looking forward, not waiting for the deadline. Oh, you get the idea – focus on improving my writing, making less excuses and writing with a purpose!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #555645;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">How about if I pray about this? Stay tuned – I’ll reveal my choice tomorrow…or the next day!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1763229771122459532.post-46349778663525831512012-01-04T05:45:00.000-08:002012-01-04T05:47:27.510-08:00A Day at the Beach by Botanicus - Product ReviewSeveral years ago, while poking around the shops at the Corolla Lighthouse in the Outer Banks, I picked up and smelled a candle that instantly brought back wonderful beach memories of my childhood. The candle was called <a href="http://www.shoplondons.com/dayatbeach.html">"</a><a href="http://botanicus.us/index.php?main_page=index&cPath=3_9">A Day at the Beach" by Botanicus.</a> That day I purchased a set of three travel candles and a room spray. Over the last couple of years, I've acquired a diffuser and another large candle and I absolutely love them.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKyiKiAXq4HYMi20Fn1knM5ay9V-XZInOmRamK5I07z-M9X5NyNcBJJweaUNdgNrH-7Y9z5Y1JPP1SRs060cxkzNqq3Qu9fydX4YZfj-gQVa1eds6VCYQUznX7RHjqVTw0ePQgPBGsfvi/s1600/day_at_the_beach_jar_candle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIKyiKiAXq4HYMi20Fn1knM5ay9V-XZInOmRamK5I07z-M9X5NyNcBJJweaUNdgNrH-7Y9z5Y1JPP1SRs060cxkzNqq3Qu9fydX4YZfj-gQVa1eds6VCYQUznX7RHjqVTw0ePQgPBGsfvi/s1600/day_at_the_beach_jar_candle.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Those of you that know me well know that I have a philosophy about creating the life you want. Without going into the long history - which resulted in owning my own business and homeschooling my daughter for seven years - that philosophy is one of the foundational blocks of My Beach House. Creating the life you desire requires lots of clumsy missteps, but even small details are important. As inconsequential as a scent might seem, walking into My Beach House and being greeted with the fragrance of summers' past signals to me that I am home. Inside my house, as I create the home that I desire, this scent is an important part of the whole. <br />
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Botanicus describes <a href="http://botanicus.us/index.php?main_page=index&cPath=3_9">"A Day at the Beach" </a>this way:<br />
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<ul><li>"The name says it all.</li>
<li>HISTORY: We have created a wonderful fragrance from our favorite beach scents- suntan oil, ocean air, tropical flowers, a touch of vanilla.</li>
<li>AROMA: Pikake, plumeria aroma with orange blossom, ocean and soft vanilla, amber notes."</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div>What stands out the most for me is more than a hint of the "Coppertone Tanning Lotion" of my childhood - when the choices were Coppertone or burn! It reminds me of sandy floors, dinner on a screened porch, wet bathing suits and towels hanging on the line. Summer vacations were a time when we stayed up late and caught fireflies, and spent whole days with my father and mother together. I think it's the right scent for creating that summer vacation feeling all year round. I have diffusers in two rooms of the house and candles all around. When I feel like the house needs a little extra - I spray the room fragrance. It's in every room of My Beach House but one. I still have the travel votives that I originally bought in Corolla. One sits next to my computer in my office. And one is always packed in my travel toiletries bag. I take it with me wherever I go and immediately unpack it to remind me of the beach and of home.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Check it out sometime: <a href="http://botanicus.us/index.php?main_page=index&cPath=3_9">A Day at the Beach</a>. And let me know what summer memories it brings back for you. </div><div><br />
</div>My Beach Househttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02213250562771114357noreply@blogger.com1