Jumping to the wrong conclusion in the land of Blog

It always amazes me how folks jump to wrong conclusions or don't have the ability to understand the written word or hit the send key before they really, really think. I just got an anonymous email (how brave) calling me a racist for the post I made to my blog yesterday. They said I was a racist because I voted for Barack Obama based on the color of his skin. Um, I don't think that's what I said/wrote/implied. I believe the whole jest of my post was that it was so thrilling that race or skin color had nothing to do with the past election and that it was wonderful that people didn't see color, they saw the content of Barack Obama's character as the basis/foundation for how they cast their vote.

Well, I can't reply to the person who contacted me because they took the high road and contacted me as "anonymous", but I sure hope they come back to see this entry and realize that their take on things was in fine form this morning. I suggest they clean their glasses when they read from now on or finish that first cup of morning coffee to fully wake up before they take to reading blog entries.

It's people who draw a conclusion without taking into consideration the facts or what is written before them or don't ask questions who have made our world the war-like place it has become over the years. Words, once they are shot out and have hit their intended mark, can't be retrieved. What those words accomplished could leave damage long after the shooter has moved on to another target.

I forgive the person who attacked me. Why? Because today is a day of celebration for me. A day of brotherhood and a new dawn for America and because that is what is asked of me by God.

You don't have to agree with me but you should be nice to me and tolerant of my views because that is the same respect you would receive from me if you were sitting in my chair. And, if you really have something to say to me about something I write, let me at least be able to respond to you personally and privately. Maybe you read something into what I wrote that wasn't intended that requires clarification or maybe you didn't, but at least let me face my accuser in all fairness.


Now, let's all go arm-in-arm into Blog-land and sing Kumbaya.

The election of our 44th president ~ WE ARE THE WORLD

Today I sit at the laptop in my sweet, pink kitchen listening to the little, pink TV sitting on the counter (is there any other color than pink?). It's tuned to CNN, and, of course, they are talking non-stop about the significance of the election and the swearing in of our first black president, Barack Obama.

There haven't been many times this past year, and especially now, that I haven't totally crumbled with emotion when I hear him speak. I'm not black. I'm a white, Polish-Catholic gal from Michigan, but the events of last year and now the beginning of this...take my breath away, literally. No matter where I am in my home if the radio brings Obama's voice into a room, I stop to listen, even if I've heard the speech a million times before. If I can, I stop to look and to take in the remarkable significance of his election and the fact that I was alive to be able to cast my vote in his direction and to become a part of history...something that not many of us can claim as an inheritance to leave for future generations of Americans, and, the world.

I remember when Kennedy was shot. I was in my biology class. Over the speaker system an announcement was made that our president had been injured. Then our principal told us John Kennedy had been shot. A few minutes later the voice told us that our youngest, Irish Catholic president was dead. We were let out of class and told to go home. The school would be closing for the day. Afterward, things seemed to spiral out of control. We lost Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcom X and a host of others that either weren't important enough to be remembered and eulogized by the print media (their opinion) or they were not as well known, so my mind just doesn't recall their loss to humanity.

I've been wondering these past months why I am so, so emotional about the recent election. If I was interviewed, I would have to say my profound reaction comes from my feeling an ownership of sorts to Obama's win. It's as though I was witness to the most miserable conduct of humanity and now feel as though, in some small way, we are turning around...seeing things differently. African Americans are all over the media talking about what this election means to them and how it has changed their view of the future.

What it means to me is that Barack Obama would not be taking the oath of office tomorrow if millions of people that are not of African American heritage had not seen the content of his character and realized that now is the time to slam, and I mean slam, the door on hatred for one another because of the color of skin. There is no color to hunger or happiness or sadness or despair. When we live, if you cut open a chest, all of our hearts are the same color and when we die, our spirit is transparent, any indication of color is washed away.

So, whether you voted in favor of this historical day or not, I hope you take the time to feel immense pride in the fact that our country has finally had an election that HAD NO COLOR at all and if it was seen, it just didn't matter. "We are the world...", at one time an anthem to bring people together, again, rings so, so true. If you don't believe me, take a ride around the web and look at the headlines in Europe, Asia, Africa, South America. Right now, my American pride is bursting from my soul.

The two digital photos you see in this entry were taken this morning. I was listening to MLK's "I have a dream" speech on CNN at the time. I looked down and felt that the two items I was getting ready to set out for Valentine's Day represented the emotion that washes over me concerning our past and present, and the promises we need to keep in order to honor the memories of all the people, living or dead, who brought us to this point in time.

(The photo of Martin Luther King, Jr. was taken from: www.thekingcenter.org)

A little PINK SATURDAY for me!

I've been wanting to participate in a Pink Saturday over at How Sweet the Sound for a few weeks and always seem to be a day late and a dollar short, but I made it this time and am very happy to "show you mine if you show me yours", something pink, that is, hehehe!

I have loved pink ever since I was a little girl. As the years marched on, so did I dragging my collection of pink goodies behind me, adding to them every chance I found another piece of pink sweetness that I just couldn't live without. My home is filled with pink decor (roses, wallpaper, tablecloths, furniture, you get the picture) to the extent that my four year-old grandson, Joshua, thinks the color and I were born on the same day.


This week's pink goodies are my pink, satin Christmas decorations that I had displayed in a crystal punch bowl centered on my dining room table during the holidays. The heavy and ornate glass piece is a treasure my great-great auntie left to me in her will several years' ago. I love the bowl and I adore the pink sweetness that fills it to the brim. These round pinkies were such a find for me...only 2.00 at Goodwill, a place that I can't drive by if I have 5.00 in my pocket!


I hope to see you next week so I can share more of the beauty-ous, wonderful pink splendor I have accumulated over the years.

(I don't know what in the heck happened, but I posted this early Saturday morning and the time stamp is for Friday. Boy, I sure must have something set wrong!)

I love this! I love dogs. I love my dogs. I love this dog!

I love this. I loved it when I first saw it a couple of years' ago and I love it now. It makes me smile and it makes me laugh and it makes me so, so happy that I love dogs and it makes me so, so happy that I share my home with dogs and it makes me so, so happy that I am alive!



Thank you God. Thank you for creating dogs and thank you for my dogs and thank you for this dog! And God, you hit it out of the park when you decided you'd give us dogs, YOU ARE AWESOME!

My beautiful Freyja, Queen of the Valkyries. She is sweetness and light. She is loving and kind. She is loyal and true. Without her I would be less. She owns my heart and I own hers. She is mine and I am hers...always.

Scout, my darling rescue who lives to retrieve and to cuddle and to talk and to snack on goodies and is guy enough to tote around his little, pink piggie and still feel secure in his doggy-ness. There will never be this much love, given with such generosity, in my life again, I can feel it in my heart and soul.

When we bake Grandma's cookies, the love she left behind warms us again

There are times when brand new, never-been-used is wonderful, exciting and grand. And there are times when well-worn, often used and very familiar is just the best way to do something or see something or share something. My mom isn't with us any longer but she left behind a legacy that is re-lived, shared and cherished year after year during the Christmas Season. Memories of my mother are recalled and talked about and lovingly remembered around two kitchen tables, with eager and bright little ones gathered 'round, all because of something she left behind that lives on, and will continue to live on, for decades. Little did mom know that the time spent in her 1950s kitchen would have such a profound and deep impact on her family and most notably, her grandsons...my sons.


Each year mom would make the most delicious German Sour Cream Sugar Cookies with "just right" icing, not too much and not too little, somewhere right in the middle, always perfect. Everyone - all relatives, neighbors, our priest and close family members - absolutely adored those cookies because they had such a delicate flavor and texture, pillow soft and feather light with a rich, buttery aroma.


Normally kids gulp down holiday sweets going from dish to bowl to platter not paying much attention to who made what; not caring about good table manners but always eating and munching, sometimes wiping powder sugared lips on a handy shirt-sleeve. My sons - my boys - would always gravitate to my mother's sugar cookies leaving all of the other ornately crafted holiday treats behind. Dave and Jeff didn't care about cute cookie cutter shapes, or colored frosting, or fancy decorations. All they wanted was my mother's cookies and all my mother ever wanted was to watch those two, little boys sit at her kitchen table with a glass of milk and a dish of her cookies. She'd lean against the back of the kitchen counter wiping her hands on her apron and she'd smile, just a little smile, at a pair of small men-in-the-making, lapping up her cookies. Watching people enjoy what she created in her kitchen was one of my mother's greatest pleasures. Whatever came out of that kitchen of hers was not only a work of art, it was filled with her love and she loved to love...always.


Mom is gone now but my boys hold her Christmas sugar cookies as "the" standard for a holiday sugar cookie. In two homes, with seven little children (4 in one and 3 in the other) to help, two men take the time to create memories that will live on long after they are gone. They take the time to tell little ears about loving memories of a tiny woman they called "grandma"; bringing her to life once more as they take butter, sour cream, flour, vanilla and other kitchen goodies building a priceless foundation that time will never, ever take away...not as long as that cookie recipe is in the hands of my sons and their children and their children and their children.


Thanks mom. I love you and I miss you and I hold dearly all you have left behind. No diamonds or jewels or stocks or bonds, but a piece of your heart and a view of your soul.

I quit smoking TWO YEARS AGO TODAY. If you smoke, please stop now!

Today's blog entry isn't fancy and it doesn't have a gimmick. The entry today is entirely for me, by me, and because of me. It is my birthday and it is also the second anniversary of the day when I quit smoking. Because this entry isn't full of recipes or cute, little gimmicks, no one may find it or read it except for me, but that's OK because right now, this very minute, the pride I feel when the reality hits me that two years have gone by without one, single cigarette in my home is immense. So, me, I am happy and I am thrilled and I am content and I am healthier and I am pleased that I DID IT. I STOPPED SMOKING ON MY BIRTHDAY TWO YEARS AGO.

If anyone does happen to stumble across this entry and you are still smoking, here's my list of absolute MUSTS to have in your house on the day you quit.

• cinnamon chewing gum
• cinnamon candies. I used Jolly Rancher.
• Listerine cinnamon breath strips. Cinnamon has some properties that will zap the urge to smoke ASAP and keep it away for about 45 minutes. Long enough for you to get a grip on your urge and your emotions.
• Grapefruit juice, which will also take away the desire to smoke and it's good for you, too.
• baby carrots
• low calorie veggie dip
• I used Chantix to help me quit smoking. I never in my life thought that anything would work for me, but this stopped me in my tracks and worked like a charm. I had smoked for 40 years, so if this works on me, it will work for you, too.
• water, and lots of it

Most of all, you have to want to quit. Not desire to quit or hope to quit or wish you could quit. YOU NEED TO KNOW THAT THE LAST CIGARETTE IS YOUR LAST CIGARETTE. The one, real "key" to stop smoking and to stay that way is to never light up again under any circumstances and at no time for no reason! There will be times when you are stressed and think that lighting up will help, but all it will do is lead you right back into smoking full time and, it will make you want to shoot yourself because all of your hard work during your quit will be lost.


How do I know? Not from personal experience but from listening to, and believing, what the experts, those that quit, told me and from what I have read on the web. Another excellent tool is a web site Why Quit. If that place doesn't shed some light on what those cigarettes are doing to you, nothing will. People who are literally in their hospital bed...dying...share their stories with you, pleading with your to stop smoking. All have passed away now, but please honor their last wish and put that cigarette out...forever.

I began this entry thinking no one would read it or care but now I am hoping that just one person finds this blog of mine and stops smoking. That would be so wonderful, wouldn't it?