Wait Gain: It's Almost Over

Check this out: It's Spelled Love, by jmbarclay. Buy a print here!

Nearly one year ago, I wrote on this blog that my husband and I are in the process of adopting. I am thankful to report that our wait for our son is almost over.

On March 16, 2009, Luke and I made the decision to wade into the adoption waters. We had heard about a little boy in need of a family and decided to pursue his adoption. From the very first piece of official paperwork we submitted, we made the choice of this child. Our love for him--though difficult to explain--has existed these past 28 months.

We will meet this little boy soon. How our eyes ache to see him. How our arms ache to hug him. How our mouths ache to tell him--again and again--that he is loved.

Soon enough.

(FYI: I feel comfortable saying that we will travel because we have two house sitters, a guard dog, and round-the-clock surveillance of our home. Not to mention that all of our valuables--every last one--will be with us on this trip. We leave only some books and our fish tank behind.)

That said, this blog may or may not be updated during the next few days. It is my hope to post a photo each day--perhaps of the homes or shops or sites we visit. Many of you have traveled this journey with us. We hope to share the next few days with you.

For now, I leave you with this thought:

What about the stories that do not have a happy ending?

Whether or not the desire is granted, the illness relieved, the loss restored--the ending for the child of God is always certain, and it is always bright. God is in control. He will allow the best thing to happen to us every time. Eventually, in the providence of God, He will bring us to Heaven where we will praise Him for eternity.

Make no mistake. Our God is faithful.

Solving the Rubik's Cube: Piece of Cake

Add a burst of sunshine to your morning with these delightful vintage mugs, by ApollinaireVintage!

Tonight, in the midst of packing, I stopped to enjoy a cake that blew my mind.

Well. I didn't actually eat the cake. I read about it here. The opening lines of this article by Vidya Rao read:

Food inspiration can come from anywhere. Dublin resident Vicky McDonald, who works in TV production by day and is a food blogger by night, brought together two of her loves to create the Rubik’s Battenberg, a cake in the likeness of the ‘80s Rubik’s cube ...

Simply put, if you like the Rubik's cube, you'll like this cake. I can think of a dozen events where this cake would be the perfect hit! I wonder if I could make it ...

Anyway. At least reading about cake is a calorie-free experience.

Back to packing.

Spark #2: The Upside of Irrationality

Bliss Pinwheel Party Decorations by Cupcake Social. (So cool!)

Tonight's SPARK challenge is simple: Write about a time you experienced the unexpected. 100 to 200 words. Here is mine ...

The 90-year-old mother of a dear friend of mine died a couple of years ago, and I decided to attend the funeral in support of my friend. I should have been clued in that the funeral would be like nothing I'd ever attended when I entered the creaky old house that served as the funeral home.

I felt like I had walked onto the set of the Adams Family.

Sitting in the cramped space--knees against the back of the chair in front of me--I watched a man (whom the 90-year-old woman had never even met) perform a sort of one-man-show. He read the eulogy, he gave a tribute, he shared words about the deceased, he brought the challenge to the family, he sang a solo, and he led in prayer.

He even shed a couple of well-timed tears.

Between each "task" that he performed, he would put his hands straight at his sides and lower his head like he was resting between scenes in a multi-act play.

I fought hard not to think of Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins when the character, Bert, performed the one-man-band at the park entrance, collecting spare change in his hat.

At the end of the funeral, the man (to my surprise) introduced someone who would close the service with a special song. I didn't think I heard the man correctly when he said, "Please welcome Josh Groban." But soon enough, static sounded on the speaker over my head, and Josh's voice filled the room.

That was when--though I was still in my twenties--I decided to go home and write up plans for my own funeral.

Biebs and Lunch Room Wisdom

Check out this vintage wooden rolling pin with cherry pie red handles by ApollinaireVintage!

It is difficult to deny that the Internet is an accurate temperature gauge of our culture.

Today, I stumbled on an ABC news article that listed the 50 most popular women, per Google search results. Perhaps not surprising, the most popular woman on the list was Lady Gaga, followed by 24 actresses, 16 music artists, 3 politicians, 2 models, 2 socialites, and 1 television personality.

And, in case you didn't do the math, the above list only contains 49 individuals.

17-year-old Justin Bieber was ranked number 7 on this list of the 50 Most Popular Women. (I've written and deleted 4 different comments in response to this fact--they were all a tad too snarky.)

Why does this list matter and what does it mean?

I often receive e-mail from readers asking me why women in this culture who prize their families are looked down upon or treated as "less worthy" by society at large. My answer, given this type of article, is simple.

When Miley Cyrus and Kim Kardashian, or Pamela Anderson and Marilyn Monroe are listed as the most popular women in our culture--based on what people are actively thinking about and voluntarily choosing to spend their time and attention pursuing--it should tell us this: choosing to honor home and family in this generation has all the significance of salmon swimming upstream.

Ours is a culture that values acting and singing above everything else.

Thankfully--as we learned in the elementary school lunch room--it is not the loudest voice in the room that matters most.

Grumble, Grumble, Hallelujah!

I love this fabric covered button necklace by Tamar. Want one? Check it out!

I'm sick.

... the kind of sick that happens after final exams, that happens after the holidays, that happens as a let-down after something really important.

I am tired, achy, resentful of the tremendous energy exhibited by my husband. I would say something unhelpful to him, but I am tired.

And since I don't want you to have stumbled on my blog tonight only to find a grumble, I will give you this--pilfered in broad daylight from my dear friend, Heather Mayo:

"[My husband] had an idea to get a little dry erase board with magnets to put on the fridge and use it as a Thankfulness Board. The idea is to write down something we are thankful for every day. I like it."

I love it. I may just do this, Heather ... tomorrow ... when I am done grumbling.

G'night.

A Radical Rethinking

Vintage flour and sugar jars by Grainne Photography

I am no accountant. Frankly, I look at people who choose to work with numbers and wonder what severe crisis they encountered at the critical stage when they were learning the difference between good and evil.

But, though I'd rather spend my life cutting the grass with scissors than spend my days with a calculator, I know this much: modern poverty does not include an Xbox.

Check out this article from The National Review Online, forwarded to me by a HouseHoncho reader.

The opening lines by Ken McIntyre read:

"When Americans think of poverty, we tend to picture people who can’t adequately shelter, clothe, and feed themselves or their families. When the Census Bureau defines "poverty," though, it winds up painting more than 40 million Americans--one in seven--as poor."

The article, in my opinion, is shocking. And it begs many legitimate questions--

What really is "poor"? Have we lost the meaning of "living simply" in this country?

So much food for thought.

Measuring Love

All Spirocreations cuffs are one of a kind...own the ONLY one!

Life is hard.

There is no way around it. Today, I sat on the couch with a to-do list the size of Texas, and I wondered why it was so difficult just to do what needed to be done. From the simplest challenges to the most complex, little in life is easy.

At times, I've resented this fact.

Twenty-eight months after beginning the adoption process, I'm ready to move to the next chapter, you know? Thankfully the plane tickets are purchased and the bags are being packed. But soon there will be another difficult chapter in life. Here is what I understand about challenges:

"Angry, resentful questions about the painful circumstances of life become unnecessary when we begin to grasp that God does everything for us in love. And though we will never fully comprehend this love--as someone tossed in the ocean with a yardstick could never begin to measure the width or the depth--we can trust His goodness based on what He has already done." Trust, Hope, Pray page 28

If He loved us enough for the cross, He'll love us enough for this week and the tasks we are called to accomplish.

Love & Space Bags

I love this small wood ampersand by Hindsvik! Check it out.

Tonight: A note from loyal reader, Heidi:

I have an idea for your next "favorite things" blog--an ode to Space Bags. I love them. They are my new favorite thing. I took four bins of linens and condensed them to one shelf. Now I'm off to condense sweaters. These things are wonderful!

Thanks, Heidi! I have never used space bags. But something I DID recently discover: nesting.

(It isn't just a pregnancy thing. Apparently it applies to mothers who are adopting, too.)

Plane tickets purchased. Child proofing gear in place. Itinerary pages printed.

Now to learn about space bags ...

Spark #1: In Search of Memory

Photo: gnome baby upcycled dolls by SewnNatural

A few years ago, I was teaching the art of memoir to a room of senior citizens. I encouraged them to write down the earliest memory they had ...

One lady wrote down the story of her parents and grandparents during a time in history when people were killed by the thousands for their ethnicity. She read her entry with tears rolling down her cheeks.

The next week, I came back and encouraged the group to write another memory--something about their family or friends--whatever struck their creative genius.

Again, this dear lady wrote the story of her parents and grandparents. Again she cried.

It didn't take me long to realize she was trapped in memory. Over the course of my teaching this group, this dear lady wrote and re-wrote the story. And I became a believer that memory can be as real years after the incident as the day the incident happened.

SPARK #1: Write about a childhood memory. Good or bad. 100 to 200 words.

Feel free to share it with me. Share it with the group. Keep it for yourself. Whatever you want to do. Just write it down!

I will share my response to SPARK #1 in the Facebook group soon.

Keep it simple.

On Gollum, Gender, and Negative Feedback

Photo of vintage carnival swing ride by GrainnePhotography

I get a lot of e-mail. The longer I've been running this site, the more I've grown to enjoy the reader feedback--for good or bad. Thanks to each of you who take a moment to write.

Make no mistake, the feedback is overwhelmingly positive--too positive, really, considering I blather on sometimes about things that primarily interest me or my cat, Italics--but it is very kind. And the negative feedback--which generally comes in the form of insults or comparisons to 1950s housewives (am I supposed to hang my head in shame?)--is nothing I take too seriously. (C'mon! Their aprons were cute!)

We are, after all, entitled to our opinions--right or wrong.

That said, I received a negative piece of feedback in response to a post I wrote entitled, Female Without Apology. Here is what the anonymous reader wrote:

"Who [we] are is not a gender. First and last post I will read from this blog."

I've got to give the reader kudos for brevity. But the words have stayed with me for almost a month. So here is my response:


Dear Anonymous,

Researchers say that, when a girl and boy are given a sheet of paper and a box of crayons, they will generally draw different things. The girl will likely draw a scene--her house, perhaps, or the people in her life--while the boy will set to work creating action. He might draw a military demonstration or the latest scene from Lord of the Rings. (Hopefully not a scene with Gollum, yikes.)

Whole studies and schools of thought are dedicated to gender identity and their ensuing roles in society. Many studies would suggest that boys and girls do things--unprompted--for no other reason than that they are following the pattern set by gender.

Additionally, it is difficult to paint the full picture of a person without including the individual's gender. Try it. It makes the person . . . well . . . bland.

I am no expert, but I believe that gender is very definitely part of who we are. And I believe gender is a gift. From the beginning of humanity, man and woman were created with unique responsibilities and roles. To take away gender (theoretically, of course) is to take away one of the things that makes each of us unique. Strip away gender and we don't have equality--we have less variety.

And as we know, variety is the spice of life.

With that said, I've seen people in the news--some celebrity, some activist--fighting for the right to change genders. And it does beg the question, "Why?" If gender isn't who we are, why does it matter?

Food for thought? Maybe. Maybe not. Well. You're not reading anyway.

Home Is Where the Art Is

This beautiful rosebud ring, by gardenmis, has robin's egg blue flowers, accents of honey yellow, and specks of lemongrass green.

Today has been a long time coming. It's appropriate that I should receive such a wonderful e-mail on the day I compile my In Print entry here on the blog.

This afternoon I opened my e-mail from our social worker and the words beamed off the page:

Wooo hoooo!

And somewhere between the third and seventh 'o' I knew we had life altering news coming our way.

Today I learned that my husband and I have been invited to travel to meet our son and bring him home. My heart is full. We should be in the country in the next few weeks. 

There is plenty to do. I need to dust his room and update photo frames. I need to pack suitcases and buy plane tickets. I need to solidify plans with our house sitter.

... and I need to prepare my heart for the responsibility and privilege of loving this child forever.

It's a Wooo hoooo!  kind of day.

Better Belts and Playdough

Check out this old old wooden thread spool with baby pink thread against a soft robins egg blue background by GrainnePhotography

The August edition of Better Homes and Gardens just landed on my desk, replete with a photo of Michelle Obama, looking lovely in a lilac dress, tan belt, and yellow sweater. And in other news, why are we talking about AUGUST?

Where has the summer gone? I heard rumors of Halloween candy on display in the stores. Say it isn't so!

In today's Junk Drawer, I bring you 3 random things.

1. In the aforementioned Better Homes and Gardens (of which I have only so far browsed--the real reading comes later), I saw this statement from Joyce Anderson, author of Help! I'm Knee-Deep in Clutter! "Parents aren't doing children a service to let them live in squalor" (page 191).

I suppose we know that we aren't doing ourselves a favor when we let children run rampant with the entirety of their toy collection, but where does it harm the children? Interesting food for thought.

2.  Cool Web site alert! Ever think a photo you took belongs on a postcard? Check out: postagramapp.com.

From the Web site: instantly print and ship photos from Instagram, Facebook, or your photo albums with the free Postagram iPhone and Android apps. Send high-quality photos to friends and family, anywhere, anytime.

3. Finally, from a reader, a recipe for edible playdough. Try at your own risk.

1/2 cup of peanut butter
1/4 cup honey
less than 1 cup of corn meal and/or non-fat dry milk

Mix PB and honey. Pour in 1/2 cup of corn meal or dry milk, mix w/ hands, and continue adding corn/milk until you reach desired consistency.

Between the edible playdough and the yellow sweater, I hope you found something in the junk drawer to enjoy. Keep it simple!

Eat. Sleep. Pray.

1 handmade bottle cap magnet by CherryCute

Tonight I am praying, specifically, to receive news of my son this week. His room is getting dusty again.

Here is what I know:

Apathetic prayer is of little value to anyone.

It is not the stringing of words together that moves the heart of God. Even the Pharisees knew how to pray (Luke 18:11), yet their prayers were ineffective because they were not honoring God.

The prayer that honors God is the prayer that agrees with Him. Whether communicating adoration, confession, thanksgiving, or supplication, there is an appropriate way to pray.

The prayer that takes hold of the communicated truths of the Bible and repeats them back to the God who inspired them is favorably received by our gracious Father.

And so tonight, I pray.

Introducing: Thursday SPARKS

Check out this rendering of a row of beautiful brownstone houses by claudiagpearson! Lovely.

I love stories. No surprise since I work in an industry where story is king.

No doubt, my grandpa had a hand in sparking this love of story. He told the best stories. When I was in college, I decided to ask him if, in lieu of a traditional Christmas gift, he would put some of his favorite memories on an audio tape. I supplied him with a 60-minute tape and told him that he didn’t need to feel like he was supposed to fill it. But that anything he put on it would be special to me.

Well, he didn’t fill it. Instead, he filled 12 90-minute tapes, front and back, with the stories of his life. I have listened to them—in their entirety—several times. And each time I listen, I feel like he is still in the room ... even though he has been gone for over a year.

Those memories are a gift.

My husband lost his grandma this past Monday. One of the greatest gifts she left her family--in my opinion--is the stack of notebooks she filled with family history. I have looked through them and hope to read them in their entirety soon.

Journaling--specifically writing down memories of days gone by--is a gift to future generations. (As well as an exercise in therapy. Trust me.) I believe so whole-heartedly in journaling memories that I have given workshops and aided retirees in writing down their stories without collecting a penny in return.

Today I am announcing a change to this blog. Beginning this Thursday--and every Thursday for at least the next year--I am going to offer prompts here on the site called Thursday SPARKS. Grab a notebook, open your computer, find a tape recorder ... I don't care how you do it. But each Thursday, I am going to post a SPARK on the blog that you should consider recording your answer to, whether or not you are "a writer."

What is a SPARK?--a writing prompt that illicits a memory that is: 

Simple, Personal, Actual, Recordable, Keep-worthy.

Come back Thursday for more information. I think you'll be glad you did.

Childhood Obesity: A Call for Parents to Lose Custody

Words fail me. I watched a half dozen videso like the one below. This opinion is gaining momentum.

Thoughts?

Guest Post: Jill Dow (How to Clutter Bust a Memory)

Photo of Jill's clutterbusting mission

I love creative people. There's no denying it. Tonight's post comes from a loyal reader who completed a mission and sent me an e-mail to tell me about it.

From Jill:

My husband can be known around the house for "clutter busting," except when it comes to one item…his T-shirts. For several years, his T-shirts sat in his dresser drawer or in a box and were either never worn or too thread bare to wear. Many of the T-shirts held special memories (high school sports teams, sports camps, summer camps attended and counseled at, mission trips, college activities…). After lots of discussion, a compromise was reached:

He would allow me to “clutter bust” his T-shirt drawer if I could preserve the memories that went with them. This summer I endeavored to accomplish that by creating a T-shirt quilt.

There are many helpful Web sites that explain the process of making a T-shirt quilt. The one I found most helpful is listed at the bottom of this post (it gives dimensions, material needs, helpful suggestions, and step by step instructions).

Creating a T-shirt quilt is a way to keep the treasured memories in a practical way that "clutter busts" the dresser drawer. There are plenty of other ways this can be done if it is thought about ahead of time...

1. Save your child's favorite clothing (outfit they came home in from the hospital, the pants they wore so many times and for so long they were shorts in the end, the blanket they couldn't sleep without, the T-shirts from vacations, their sport shirts...) and make a memory quilt with them before they go to college, get married, or leave the house.

2. Another one I am already planning on doing is for my husband when he finishes dental school. Using the T-shirts he wore in school, the scrubs he wore in clinic, and other school related clothing to make a memory quilt for this phase of our life.

3. The ideas are unlimited, have fun creating a practical memory quilt from your favorite clothes.

http://www.goosetracks.com/T-ShirtQuiltInstructions.html


Sounds good to me! I'm wondering if it's possibly to make a quilt out of favorite magazine articles. What mission are YOU working to accomplish currently?

In Print: 101 Simple Salads for the Season

This print, by TheWallaroo is meant to remind you that every day is a special one.

Question: How many good salad recipes can you think of off the top of your head?

(To clarify: 3-bean salad doesn't count. I asked for good salad recipes.)

I can probably think of 10. In tonight's In Print, I bring you an article from The New York Times. The topic?--101 Simple Salads for the Season.

The opening lines read:

"SUMMER may not be the best time to cook, but it’s certainly among the best times to eat. Toss watermelon and peaches with some ingredients you have lying around already, and you can produce a salad that’s delicious, unusual, fast and perfectly seasonal."

Read the rest of Mark Bittman's article here.

Dice the cucumbers. You're going to need them.

Once Upon a Time, You Were Born

Check out "Home" by merriweathercouncil, hand stitched in vibrant mid-tone blue cotton floss

Dear Nephew,

Today you were born. But we'll get to that in a moment.

As a writer, I am fascinated by the presence of weather in setting the scene for a story.

(Let it be known now that I am a writer and I will entertain you with stories as a child, whether or not you want me to. I already have a story that will hold your attention better than pigs and a wolf. Wait and see.)

Anyway. I digress.

Sunshine often illustrates happiness, and rain promises drama. Wind signifies change. You get the point. You should know that it was not Snoopy who first coined the phrase, "It was a dark and stormy night," but rather, it was novelist Edward Bulwer-Lytton.

It was a dark and stormy day today, hours before your birth. A few of your family members huddled in the waiting to room to await news--any news--that you were on your way. When your mother kindly allowed us to spend some time in the labor and delivery room, we listened to your heartbeat and laughed at your hiccups. We watched the monitor like it was the best kind of movie or television show (in reality, it looked like a perpetual view of the Rocky Mountains--they were beautiful). And we watched your dad say goofy things on a video camera.

And now I wonder what your future holds. We already enjoy you more than you can imagine. We will celebrate in your happiness and share in your change. We will ride the waves of drama that life promises. And we will love you for the duration of your life.

You already have a fan club as intense as any musical group or movie star.

As Edward Bulwer-Lytton wrote in Paul Clifford:

"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets. . ."

Those words could easily be the beginning to your own autobiography. We anticipate what will fill the pages of your story.

Love you, child.

The Extraordinary Life of a Misfit

Ever wonder what to do with a fistful of dandelions? Check out this photo by GrainnePhotography

My sister-in-law is having contractions. My husband and I await the phone call that we can travel to meet our son. Friends all around us are battling job loss and health concerns and the juggling of multiple (difficult) responsibilities.

But here is what I know:

God never tires of hearing from us.

In Psalm 55:22, we are instructed, “Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you” (ESV). And incredibly--unbelievably, perhaps--we aren’t given any limits, account parameters, or maximum prayers allowed in one day.

In the history of the human race, no man has ever taken too much to God.

And yet, when the trials come and the tribulations push us to our limits, our initial response is often total loss about what to do.

We need more than a casual commitment to prayer. If we expect God to listen to us, isn’t it fair that He should expect us to talk to Him?

--Trust, Hope, Pray (page 16)

The Etsy, Etsy Spy(er)

Nothing says summer like ballet flats. Check out these by spirocreations!

Happy Friday!

In today's Favorite Things Friday I am happy to bring you two of my favorite things--along with July's update to this blog.

First of all, I love wall sayings. Walk around my house and you will notice a museum of things I like to think about. I've painted a line from one of my favorite songs on the living room wall, for instance, and there is a small handwritten card in my bedroom with a verse I like to remember. On the bathroom mirror there is a list of three truths I daily remind myself to consider.

The list could go on. Sayings exist all over my house.

I believe that sayings posted on the wall have the power to creep into our subconscious. Hopefully--specifically if the sayings are true or helpful--they make a permanent impact in our thinking over time.

So, you ask, what do these wall sayings have to do with Favorite Things Friday?

So glad you asked.

As soon as you enter my home, there is a frame on the wall with these words: An attitude of gratitude creates blessings. And that is one of my favorite things.

Second of all, I love Etsy. If you are not familiar with Etsy or are in need of an overdose of inspiration, I challenge you to visit the Web site. I could permanently bankrupt myself in thirty minutes on that site. (Now, no doubt, you are itching to rush right over and check it out.)

For July's change, I am excited to announce that I am teaming up with various Etsy shops to bring creative ideas to this blog--things I hope will engage the part of your brain that creates beauty for your home and family. If you run an Etsy shop, feel free to contact me about posting photos of your wares and I will take a look.

Hopefully--more often than not--the daily blogs will feature creativity from Etsy shop owners. Prepare to be amazed.

Have a great weekend!

Cue the Scary Shark Music

Photo by VFS Digital Design

Since the time I was a child, I have had vivid dreams.

Growing up, my parents limited my television after 7:00 at night to only those programs that promoted positive (read: non-active) thinking. Even Bambi was too violent after the sun went down. My mom actually blocked scenes in movies she taped on the television for fear that I would find them. (Our version of The Princess Bride is missing the scene with the R.O.U.S.'s).

No joke, if I saw or heard anything distressing before bedtime, I dreamed about it in full technicolor.

For good or bad, I dream big. But no dream of mine has ever been as good as this article. In my wildest dreams, I have never imagined a home that could hold 10 tons of books.

You really should check out this house. Amazing. I'm adding this house to my Christmas list.

Apparently you haven't imagined it, either, since I received more e-mail about this article than I've received in a long time about any article. Dozens of you forwarded this article to me today.

Thank you. Tonight's dream should be interesting.

Oh Baby!

Photo by Horia Varlan

I've got nothing.

I'm serious. My sister-in-law is having contractions and I'm running around like every bumbling father in television who learns his wife is in labor. My brother ate supper while walking circles in the living room. The dogs are on the floor, chewing through their bones like they have power saws for jaws.

I have snacks. I have a bag packed. I'm ready to do this thing . . . vicariously, of course.

Of course, my sister is sitting on the couch, calmly looking at her laptop. She's better off than we are.

No one ever told me that--when the mother goes into labor--everyone else in the family does, too.

I'm having contractions every two minutes.

Mending Fences and Winning Books (And Lemonade!)

Photo by me! I discovered this lovely creation (made out of plastic cups) while driving home from work today! Brilliant idea.

Happy 401st blog post!

Thank you to all of you have supported this blog along the way. I still have miles to go before I sleep. All kinds of ideas are brewing about ways we can get out and talk to home managers everywhere about what works for them. And you--and your loyalty--are a big part of the success so far. So thank you for that!

Because yesterday was a holiday, I am lumping Junk Drawer Monday and In Print Tuesday. I hope it doesn't confuse any of my OCD friends. We'll be back on track tomorrow.

In the winners' circle, I am happy to announce that Danielle (who is adopting from Ghana) has won a copy of the book along with a gift card to Bed Bath & Beyond. I am thrilled to share a copy of the book with someone adopting, though I assure you the random number generator had no knowledge of this wonderful connection. Danielle, please drop me a note about where you would like the book and card sent.

With a nod to In Print, you should check out a recipe I discovered in USA Today for watermelon lemonade. It sounded so good, I nearly left my blog mid-post to buy a watermelon.

Hope your holiday was something for the record books.

Fourth of July Photo or Bust!

Photo by: me. Happy Fourth of July in true "we-clean-the-office-on-Friday" fashion!

What is a veteran?

A veteran--whether active duty, retired, national guard, or reserve--is someone who, at one point in his or her life, wrote a blank check made payable to The 'United States of America,' for an amount of 'up to and including my life.'

That is honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.

--Author Unknown

Thank you to the many who serve.

Have a safe and happy Fourth of July!