Just finished a 300 page novel in 3 days. I am remembering why I don't read fiction anymore. I get sucked in and can't stop reading. While it's great to escape, I totally get frustrated with every small distraction from my kids. "Go play." Mommy's reading her book," I find myself saying in an aggravated tone. (Sigh) So I finally get to the end of the book at 1:00 AM, and of course it leaves me hanging. It's so unfair! Now I am stuck in a three book series. I keep telling myself to slow it down, but I have already reserved the second book at the library, and I know it's only going to leave me with another cliff hanger so I will get the final book when it is released in August.
All my friends who told me to read The Hunger Games, you are getting virtual crusties from me as you read this blog entry. Just kidding. It is an awesome read. I am really looking forward to the next two books. Can't wait to see if the Capital goes down, and how the love triangle resolves. Getting giddy just thinking about it! Read it, if you haven't already, you won't be disappointed.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Tearful Goodbyes
"Each life that touches ours for good, reflects thine own great mercy Lord. Thou sendest blessings from above, thru words and deeds of those who love."
My grandma's life was such a life. My Grandma Ruth was such a person.
Memories race through my mind. First I am sitting at her kitchen bar watching her hands, swollen with arthritis, as they busily knead bread dough. There is green shag carpet on the floor and plastic on the dining room chairs behind me. Next I am following her to a salty pool at Crystal Hot Springs. She has placed my yellow water wings on my arms to keep me safe. This memory is displaced by another. I am the first to wake after one of the many grandkid sleepovers. Grandma is once again in the kitchen. The sun is shining on the lilac bushes in her backyard. I am wearing one of her softest cotton shirts instead of pajamas. It comes down to my knees. Grandma is cooking oatmeal and slicing fresh grapefruit.
With the images also come the sounds and the smells. I hear her voice as she reads me a book; as she sings me a song to make me smile. "I love you a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck." She bops with the beat. The smell of fresh bread whiffs through the house, promising a taste as soon as it comes out of the oven.
Most of my memories are fun and carefree. Playing at Grandma's house was like eating ice cream for dinner. Rules were bent, but there was no real harm done. She bought us ceramics to paint, made us homemade play dough and set up a slip n' slide in the backyard.
Some of my memories are quieter. I am talking to Grandma while she cooks chicken noodle soup. She manages to listen to every word I say. How many hours did she spend listening to my stories of school days, of conflicts, of pains? She never judged. She only told me how wonderful I was, and how I was her girl--always.
"When such a friend from us departs, we hold forever in our hearts a sweet and hallowed memory, bringing us nearer, Lord, to thee."
Now that my sweet Grandma Ruth has passed, I find myself clinging to the hope of seeing her again. I feel myself more dependent on my Savior. I reflect on the day he rose, and envision the day when Grandma too will rise. I trust his power to save me from death and sin, and look forward with faith for the time I will be eternally with my family.
There is no way to express how much my grandmother is a part of me. With her blood, flowing through generations, also flows her laughter, her conviction and her unending love.
I love you Grandma!
In loving memory of Ruth Davis Manning
April 14, 1908-December 9, 2009
My grandma's life was such a life. My Grandma Ruth was such a person.
Memories race through my mind. First I am sitting at her kitchen bar watching her hands, swollen with arthritis, as they busily knead bread dough. There is green shag carpet on the floor and plastic on the dining room chairs behind me. Next I am following her to a salty pool at Crystal Hot Springs. She has placed my yellow water wings on my arms to keep me safe. This memory is displaced by another. I am the first to wake after one of the many grandkid sleepovers. Grandma is once again in the kitchen. The sun is shining on the lilac bushes in her backyard. I am wearing one of her softest cotton shirts instead of pajamas. It comes down to my knees. Grandma is cooking oatmeal and slicing fresh grapefruit.
With the images also come the sounds and the smells. I hear her voice as she reads me a book; as she sings me a song to make me smile. "I love you a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck." She bops with the beat. The smell of fresh bread whiffs through the house, promising a taste as soon as it comes out of the oven.
Most of my memories are fun and carefree. Playing at Grandma's house was like eating ice cream for dinner. Rules were bent, but there was no real harm done. She bought us ceramics to paint, made us homemade play dough and set up a slip n' slide in the backyard.
Some of my memories are quieter. I am talking to Grandma while she cooks chicken noodle soup. She manages to listen to every word I say. How many hours did she spend listening to my stories of school days, of conflicts, of pains? She never judged. She only told me how wonderful I was, and how I was her girl--always.
"When such a friend from us departs, we hold forever in our hearts a sweet and hallowed memory, bringing us nearer, Lord, to thee."
Now that my sweet Grandma Ruth has passed, I find myself clinging to the hope of seeing her again. I feel myself more dependent on my Savior. I reflect on the day he rose, and envision the day when Grandma too will rise. I trust his power to save me from death and sin, and look forward with faith for the time I will be eternally with my family.
There is no way to express how much my grandmother is a part of me. With her blood, flowing through generations, also flows her laughter, her conviction and her unending love.
I love you Grandma!
In loving memory of Ruth Davis ManningApril 14, 1908-December 9, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Pumpkin Fest 2009
We had a good time over the weekend at the Pumpkin Festival at the Chatfield Botanic Gardens. The highlight was still taking pictures in the pumpkin patch, and picking out a nice big pumpkin to carve. It was beautiful fall day, and family time is always our favorite.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
It's Always Fun When Grandpa Comes
We had a great time last week. My parents came to town. The kids loved playing with them, and I loved the grown-up company during the day. If only it were possible to live a little closer. Thank heavens for airplanes and free long-distance phone service: right?
We went for a Sunday drive near Morrison. We found a nice park with this cool stone picnic shelter right on Bear Creek. The weather was beautiful.
Sorry, Mom and Dad, but I had to take these pictures, even if it was first thing in the morning.
Grandma brought bubbles for Eden, and they spent some quality time outside together.
We went for a Sunday drive near Morrison. We found a nice park with this cool stone picnic shelter right on Bear Creek. The weather was beautiful.
Sorry, Mom and Dad, but I had to take these pictures, even if it was first thing in the morning.
Grandma brought bubbles for Eden, and they spent some quality time outside together.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Birthdays
We celebrated two birthdays at out house recently. Miles turned one year old at the end of August and John got one year older in September. Happy birthday, guys!
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