A Budding Blog…

Budding Flower_01

Well, it is with a fair amount of fear and trepidation that I’d like to make an announcement.
Before your mind starts to wander too far, I am not pregnant. That would cause mind-boggling fear and trepidation, and would, in fact, be a miracle.
This is “Not That Big a Deal” which is also the name of my new blog. Yes, friends I have “bitten the bullet, jumped in with both feet, leaped into the breach” and it scares the crumbs out of me. But, I enjoy making people smile and laugh and forget, even if just for a little while, their troubles. I think it’s something we all need now and then. I really do believe that “a good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything.” So, here I go…
My blog link will be posted on facebook and twitter tomorrow and, hopefully, every Friday after that. I hope it does its job. I hope it makes you smile. 


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The Best Laid Plans…

I have been planning to write, really I have. But, as the title implies, plans change…

We had plans this summer!
Both retired. No job responsibilities. No kids at home. No real family responsibilities. Lots of plans. Cliff enjoys making plans. I enjoy the benefits of those plans. We’re a good team!
First, we had our nephew visiting the end of April, so plans to visit Daytona and plans for Disney with him. Plans to go to our grandson’s Mock Trial presentation on the 26th. Plans to visit Asheville, NC with dear friends the first week of May. Lots and lots of plans…
And then…
It was a Thursday. April 7th, to be exact. We had no real plans for that stormy day, which was good because Cliff woke up with pains in his stomach. He wasn’t overly concerned and neither was I. It happens sometimes. But, when he didn’t sleep well Thursday night because of discomfort and still had pain Friday morning, I told him maybe he should go to the ER. He was still not concerned and thought he just had to wait for it to pass. Friday night was a sleepless, uncomfortable night. Saturday he was still in pain. He called his doctor and got a call back that he should go to the ER. No fever, just pain, but, fortunately, we went.


When we got there at 1:30pm, his vitals were all good except for his pulse rate, which was 126. The triage nurse and I both quickly realized something was amuck. He had an xray almost immediately and right after that a CT scan. The next thing we knew, we were talking to a surgeon. The prognosis, a perforated colon. Not sure where or how or how big, but they were going in. And, just like that, Cliff was being prepped for surgery. It was that fast.
I was ushered to a waiting room and though I had countless offers from family to come sit with me, I chose to sit by myself. You see, I’m used to hospitals and ER’s so I came prepared. I had on comfy clothes and a cozy, warm sweater, my crochet bag, and a really good book. I also had Cheez-its and a bottle of water, so I was good! I was alone in the room and took the opportunity to pray and sing worship songs to the only One who was not surprised by any of this. The only One who I knew was and is safe to trust with the life of the man I love. I had perfect peace.
Cliff came through the surgery just fine and the surgeon, who was younger than our youngest child, came and talked to me. Cliff has diverticulosis (pockets in his colon), that were infected causing diverticulitis. He also had a good size perforation at the bottom of his colon. His stomach cavity was full of infection and so inflamed that he, the surgeon, had a hard time getting everything back in.
I stayed with Cliff at the hospital that first night because, at 68 years old, he’s never been in the hospital for himself and, having had at least 10 surgeries in my life that I can remember, I’m an old pro.
They have chairs that turn into beds now and a little girl came to make up the chair-bed for me. That night Cliff did great, in spite of the nurses coming in every half hour or so to check on him. As for me, well, that night will forever be remembered as the worst nights sleep I’ve ever had. Guys, I can sleep sitting up on a bench in the rain. I have a picture to prove this. But, this chair-bed was like sleeping on a piece of cement with a sheet. To make things worse, I slept with my hearing aids in so I could hear Cliff if he needed me. The result, every time I did happen to drift off I’d turn my head and my hearing aids would whistle a high-pitched little ditty in my ear. It was awful. Funny, but awful. And yet, that next morning I felt fine and every-so-grateful.
Cliff’s only complaint after surgery was the nasal-gastric tube that went up his nose and down into his gut. Fortunately, in about three days it was removed. Five days after surgery, Cliff was home!
The seriousness of his situation hit home when, afterwards I asked the surgeon what would have happened if we’d waited until Sunday. His answer was scary. “There wouldn’t have been a Sunday for your husband.” It was that close a call.
On Wednesday, April 20th, we visited the surgeon for a post-op visit. Staples were removed and Cliff’s healing was deemed “impressive”. Seems most patients that have what he had are in ICU after surgery and don’t leave the hospital for 7 to 10 days. Cliff was not in ICU and out in 5. The NG tube is usually in until right before leaving the hospital. Cliff’s was out in 3 days. We are so grateful! God is so good!
In about 4 months, the surgeon told us, Cliff will have a second surgery to “reconnect” everything. The most excellent news…he plans to do it laparoscopically! Four little cuts around his belly instead of reopening the incision he has now that goes from stem to stern. That’s the plan.
Evidently, plans like rules are made to be broken and when they are, in the light of all eternity, it’s really not that big a deal!

~ “For I know the plans I have have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jer. 29:11

Posted in Attitude, Bible, Blessings, Caring, Challenges, Christians, Faith, Faithfulness, Family, God, Gratefulness, Health, Hearing Aids, Hope, Hospitals, Humor, Husbands, Life, Lord, Plans, Trust, Uncategorized, Vacation | Leave a comment

The Dog Mutterer

As many of you know, our family has owned at least one dog, continuously, for the past 31 years. Never have we ever had a walking issue with any of our previous dogs. Not even the mentally deficient dog who considered rocks a delicacy. All previous dogs were pull free, non-reactive walkers. And then there is Phoebe. Phoebe is both a puller because she must “smell” every blade of grass that is within a five mile radius of where she is walking and reactive because she seemingly must “try” to attack any dog that she sees in that same vicinity.

And so each day before her walk, I mutter…”Now Phoebe, we’re going on a walk today and you’re going to be a good girl, right? No sled dog pulling, no barking and lunging. You’re going to walk like a lady with your head held high like they do on TV. Okay?” It doesn’t work and she doesn’t answer, but I do it anyway. In fact, according to my husband, she hears, “Blah, Phoebe, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.” Of course, as in most things, he is probably right. In fact, Cesar Milan says he is right and Cesar is, after all, much more than a dog mutterer. He is “The Dog Whisperer”.


Have you ever watched Cesar Milan on television? I have. I’ve also been reading one of his books. He is nothing short of magical! He meets a dog that would tear a person’s head off, the dog growls, he gives a quick pull on the leash, makes one little “SHT” sound and the dog instantly obeys. Amazing.
I did notice on the show that the dogs he’s working with many times wear both a chest and a head harness. I decided, since we already had both, to give this a try.

I now hold two leashes when we walk. It’s complicated and the first day or two she balked and did all she could to remove the head harness. Eventually, she gave that up AND immediately she was walking by my side with her head held high like the lady I told her she was! It was a miracle! I thought that was it. No more pulling, no more barking, no more lunging, just pleasant walks with our girl. That’s what I thought. It was a wonderful thought, a wrong thought, but a wonderful thought. She still barks and lunges. I don’t know how, but she does.

I decided maybe it’s not just the head and chest gear. I’ve already tried the quick pull thing with Phoebe to no avail. So I came to the conclusion that the magic that I’m missing has to be the sound! And so I tried that. “SHT!” I said as I gave her leash a quick pull. “SHT! SHT! SHT!”
I admit that I was very tempted to add a small letter “i” to my “SHT” sound but, tempting as it was, I figured that wouldn’t work either. And so, I am back to Cesar’s book, determined to learn to do things “Cesar’s Way”. In the meantime, I mutter because in the light of all eternity, it’s really not that big a deal!

Posted in Americans, Animals, Books, Cesar Milan, Challenges, Christians, Dog walking, Dog Walking Tips, Dogs, Encouragement, Family, Florida, Hope, Humor, Husbands, Husbands and Wives, Life, Mornings, The Dog Whisperer, Uncategorized, Walking, Yellow Lab and Treeing Walker Coonhound | Leave a comment

When Opposites Attract

I am 62 years old. I’ve been around the block, down the street, and over the hill a few times in my life and in all of those times I have been told that opposites attract. Recently, while googling this fact, I learned that most people in the world of psychology think this is a myth. I don’t think I believe them. And here’s why…

Cliff and I have been married for 43 years. I can honestly say it’s been an interesting 43 years. A fun 43 years. At times, a trying 43 years, but always a very good 43 years. I attribute all of that interesting, fun, trying, good time to the fact that we are NOT ‘two peas in a pod’. In fact, we couldn’t be more opposite. Here are just some of the facts…
He is of Asian descent. I am of European.
He is a quiet man. I am a loud woman.
He tans easily. I have tanned only once in my life and I think it was a fluke.
He is left-handed. I am right, which also signifies that he is right-brained and I am left.
He rolls his toothpaste from the bottom, very neatly. I squeeze wherever my hand lands. (I like to think this as a sign of creativity and not laziness, but he disagrees.)
He gets things done immediately. I am very good at procrastinating.
He takes a while to fall asleep, mostly because he is thinking of the things he needs to get done. I drop like a rock.
He has excellent short term memory. Mine is better long term.
He is a thinker. Me, not so much.
He is very good with directions and can remember where he’s been and how to get back there even after many months. He instinctively seems to know which direction is North, South, East, and West. I am very directionally challenged. Whichever way I am facing is North.
He is very aware of my directional shortcomings and yet, well…let me tell you a story.

Savannah is one of our favorite cities. We both enjoy it for almost all the same reasons, but one. We both enjoy the historical sites and the fact that it’s a great walking city. But, my favorite part, which is not necessarily Cliff’s favorite part is E. Shaver, Bookseller bookstore. Would I travel all the way to Savannah for a bookstore? Yes. Yes, I would. But now, I have found another reason to love Savannah and it’s right around the corner from the bookstore.

The Tea Room! On our most recent trip to Savannah, one taken with our daughter, Rachel and her family, we stumbled on The Tea Room. Rach and I love tea and found an especially enjoyable, very caffeinated one called Mauritius. Actually, our first time in The Tea Room and still in the middle of “the virus which shall not be named,” I might have almost tasted someone else’s tea, thinking it was my daughter’s. I only touched it, which at the time was bad enough.

Anyway, after tasting the highly caffeinated Mauritius, Rachel and I decided that we would like to come back in the morning for a cup. Then we decided that it would be fun to walk back to get our steps in. Then Rachel informed me that she and I, by ourselves, would never make it. Yes, sadly, I have passed on my directionally challenged gene to my daughter.
I thought we could still probably make it with some good directions, after all, it was only about a mile from our hotel. And so, I asked my husband. You know the one I’ve been married to for 43 years. The one who knows me better than I know myself sometimes. And what did my dear husband say?

“Just go southeast, Rox! You can’t miss it.”

Assuming he was expecting me to navigate by the stars, I reminded him that we were going in daylight. He then attempted to explain “southeast” to me. Quickly recognizing his folly at trying to explain that which, to me is unexplainable; he agreed to walk with us in the morning so we could get our tea. He’s a good man, which is not to say that I’m not good. The whole opposite thing can only go so far, because really, in the light of all eternity, it’s not that big a deal!

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” Dad’s Got Me”

Cliff and I run a bimonthly Community Group for Metro. It’s a daytime group and consists of what Emily Jessee once referred to as “Seasoned Saints”. When I was teaching middle and high school students, I often wondered who was teaching who. It is the same with this group. Though Cliff and I are the designated “leaders” more often than not it is the people in our group that lead by example and by obedience.
This past meeting, we asked members of the group to bring something, a story, a testimony, a prayer request, anything that they felt led to share. This story was one of those shared. It is the testimony of a little boy named Levi. He is the grandson of Dan and Karen O’Brien-Mazza, members of Metro. It was written by, Jeanne Harrison, the wife of another leader who has also learned by the people she “leads” and it is beautiful. I knew as soon as I heard it that it needed to be shared, especially as we enter this Lenten season. I hope you enjoy it…

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Posted in 2020, Attitude, Bible, Blessings, Challenges, Children, Church, Courage, Encouragement, Faith, Faithfulness, Family, Fathers and Mothers, Fear, God, Heroes, Hope, Humor, Life, Love, The Human Spirit, Trust, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

“I Love You Where You Are At”

Erma Bombeck, one of my all time favorite funny people once said, “If you can’t make it better, you can laugh at it.” Lately, I’ve been thinking about the truth of this statement. Because I’m not gonna lie, dealing with the death of someone you love is hard. Some days it’s really hard. You can feel like you’re doing absolutely fine and the littlest thing will open the floodgates. There is no way to make it better but I have found a few ways to laugh, at least a little.

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Posted in Aging, Attitude, Blessings, Caring, Christians, Dads, Death, Encouragement, Erma Bombeck, Faith, Family, Fathers and Mothers, Friends, God, Gratefulness, Heaven, Hope, Humor, Life, New Years, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

My Dad

Forgive me people for I have not written. It has been a month since my last post.
I do have reasons or excuses, whichever you’d like to call them. My husband sold his UPS Store and is officially retired. The holidays came upon us with the usual fanfare.
And, on New Years Day, my Dad, Rocco James Sicurello, went home to spend eternity with his Savior.
When I feel sad, I think about the life he lived, I think about the things he did, I think about all that he taught us and the legacy he has left, his most prized possession on this earth, his family.
This post is about his life…It was a good life and he lived it with no regrets…

He was born in the middle of the Great Depression on March 24, 1935. A first generation Italian, he was the middle of three full brothers and the next to the last of 15 total siblings. His oldest full brother, Uncle Nick, was 18 months older. His younger brother, Uncle Joe, was almost exactly 1 year younger. In fact, for 5 days, Uncle Joe and my Dad were the same age. When people would comment on the number of children my grandfather had, my Dad always had the same reply, “They didn’t have TV back then.”

My Dad and his brothers were typical little boys for that time. He and his brother, Joe would sneak into baseball games, waiting for a family to come into line with a lot of kids and slipping into the game with them so they didn’t have to pay.

On May 8, 1945, when the world was celebrating the end of the war in Europe, my Dad and his brothers,  ages 9, 10, and 11, were grieving the death of their Mother. My grandfather, now 50 years old and only speaking broken English was left to raise his three little boys alone. He never remarried. 

A year after their Mom passed away, and because my grandfather had to work, a social worker came to the house and offered to send my Dad and his brother Joe, to Boys Town camp for the summer. Uncle Nick was allowed to stay with my grandfather because he was 12 and had a job. When summer was over,  my Dad was told that he and Uncle Joe could not go home because they felt my grandfather was too old to care for them. The state had decided that they would be staying at Boys Town. Within days Dad devised a plan that he and Uncle Joe would hide their sandwiches from lunch in their shirts and that night they would escape and walk home. That afternoon, before they could execute their plan, their Dad came to see them. He told the people there that he was going to take his boys out “to buy clothes”. He never brought them back. 

My grandfather worked in a button factory.  There were no safety standards back then and Dad remembered bringing a lunch pail to his dad and seeing the bandana he tied around his nose and mouth and the rest of his face covered in plastic dust. My grandfather slept straddling the back of a chair and resting his head on his arms so he could breathe. Though my grandfather did love his stogies, Dad was always sure that the plastic had gotten into his lungs. In April of 1952, when Dad and Uncle Joe had just turned 16 and 17 and Uncle Nick was 18, their Dad passed away. After my grandfather passed, the older siblings felt obligated but didn’t really want to care for my Dad and his brothers. Uncle Nick enlisted in the Army. Dad and Uncle Joe lived with their oldest half sister, Nicolina. 

In October of 1953, while driving around in his first car, Dad saw a little red-haired girl hanging out with her friends. He waved to her, she waved back. They began their relationship as friends, but Mom remembers their first date was a bus ride to NYC to go to the Roxy Theatre to watch the movie The Robe. They had a spaghetti dinner together. Dad told Mom after a month of friendship that someday he wanted to marry her. 

By December of that year, Aunt Nicolina decided that she didn’t want Uncle Joe living with her anymore so Dad took his brother and went downtown thinking that he and Uncle Joe would enlist in the Navy together. Dad and Uncle Joe were very close. Dad was the brains and Uncle Joe was the brawn and Dad always felt responsible for his younger brother. When they took the test for the Navy, Dad passed. Uncle Joe did not. They took Dad immediately. Uncle Joe, with no place to go, hitchhiked across the country to California to live with a sister he’d never met, Viola. Viola and her husband were in the Marines and helped Uncle Joe to get into that branch of service. 

While in the service, Dad finished high school. Always very mechanically inclined, he became an Aviation Structural Mechanic and was stationed in Iceland at the tail end of the Korean War. Throughout his time in the service he and Mom wrote to one another. By the time Mom was 15 they were engaged. Dad finished his time in the Navy and in January of 1959, one day before Mom’s 18th birthday, they were married. People told them it wouldn’t last. People told them it couldn’t last. People didn’t know my parents. With sheer determination and what they didn’t at first realize was the grace of God, they remained married for almost 63 years until Dad’s passing. 

When Dad got out of the service, he was going to school in Philadelphia during the day and working at night on Mcguire Air Force Base as a civilian Aviation specialist. Mom was pregnant with me and Dad soon realized he could not keep up that pace. He got a job at Tilden Brakes where his boss, Lenny Swell, soon realized his potential and asked him to go into business with him. They bought a gas station, and called it R & L Shell. Lenny handled the behind the scenes, Dad was the mechanic. Because of the type of man dad was, their business thrived. People trusted Dad. After a time, they left the Shell station and moved to a bigger station about a hundred yards away and R & L Sunoco was born. He and Lenny owned that station for many years with Dad winning awards for his service to the community. 

Mom became a Christian first and soon each one of us followed. But, not Dad. One day, when Mom came home from church and was visibly upset, Dad asked why she was crying. She told him she had nobody to sit with at church. Dad said nothing. The following week, when Mom came downstairs to go to church, there was Dad in his suit. When Mom asked where he was going, he said he was going to church. When Mom asked why, he said because she had nobody to sit with. He went to church that day and never stopped. Dad’s surrendering his life to the Lord was a gradual process, but throughout that process Dad showed the Lord his love the same way he showed his love for us, by working and serving. Dad and Mom hosted Bible studies in their home, served together running a food pantry for families in the county and beyond that were in need. They took in homeless people and anyone else that needed a place to stay for a time. Dad volunteered at a home for disabled adults called Cheshire Home where he served as a driver for their van, picking up the residents for church and bringing them to activities. There was never a legitimate need my Dad would not meet. Never a time where he put his needs before others. That just wasn’t Dad. 

When Cliff and I moved to Florida in 1998, Dad decided he was almost ready to retire and he and Mom came down a few years later in 2001. Dad’s retirement lasted all of 2 weeks before he decided he wanted to continue working. It was then that I talked to Andy to see if he needed help at the church. He asked what Dad’s name was, when I said Rocco Sicurello. He told me he’d never met a real ‘eye talian before. In 2002 the redneck from the North began working with the redneck from the South. They worked hard together. He worked with Andy until he was 80 years old. 

Dad’s legacy is the thing he loved most on this earth, his family. His wife, his 4 children, his 10 grandchildren, and soon to be 8 great grandchildren. As a family, we will always remember the things he taught us.

Things like ~
“Find a job you love to do and the money will take care of itself.”
“You have to love people where they’re at.”
“Always remember your family.”
He taught us to always be content with what we have and to always put the needs of other first. He taught us these things by example. He taught us well.

On January 1st, 2022, Dad began the New Year with his entrance into his heavenly home. Healed, whole, and breathing freely. Greeted with the words “Well done good and faithful servant…” because that is what he was. 


I love you and I miss you, Dad. I always will…

Posted in Attitude, Caring, Change, Childhood, Children, Christians, Church, Dads, Death, Faith, Family, Fathers and Mothers, Freedom, Generations, Getting Old, God, Gratefulness, Heaven, Heroes, History, Humor, Italian Roots, Italians, Life, Love, Marriage, Memorials, Siblings, Tribute, Uncategorized, Wisdom | 3 Comments

Life With Charlie ~ What’s That Smell???

It was a peaceful morning. Now that we are fairly empty-nesters most mornings are. I say fairly empty because, though there are no children in the house some of them are right across the street and we have a dog, Phoebe, and a kitten, Charlie Cat. Charlie Cat is not the name we gave him, but our 3 year old grandson came up with this and it stuck. Fortunately, Charlie Cat is very cute because…


As I was saying, it was a peaceful morning and I was sitting in my chair drinking my coffee, reading my book with Charlie in my lap, and wondering; not about my day, not even about what I was going to be eating that day; I was wondering what exactly I was smelling, because whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I sniffed around and discovered the source, Charlie’s cat box. It’s a pretty cat box, one that looks like furniture so nobody really knows what’s in there, unless it is befouled. When I opened the doors, I was greeted with said befoulment.

My morning had new purpose, not one of quiet repose with my coffee and my book, much as I wanted that. This morning was one of war. A battle to clean the befouled, putrefied, “liquid” in the box that somehow did not make it into the litter, a bigger battle to not toss my coffee in the process, and the constant battle for a good attitude when you haven’t finished your coffee and it’s only 4:00 am. And so I thought about my predicament.

I was grateful that the stink and it’s source was inside the box and not on my floor. Then I remembered that I had just bought a pair of new rubber gloves and opening new things is always fun, so that was a plus! Attitude in check, I got started. My first step was to gather all I would need, put on my new rubber gloves, and go to war. I had plastic bags, paper towels, a bucket of hot water and disinfecting wipes. As I prepared to don my new gloves, I realized that my right hand glove was fine and so was the other right hand glove. Wait. What? I had TWO right hand gloves. So, fortunately, I am in fact, right-handed and quite literally, singlehandedly got to work.

The clean up was actually not that bad. I did not toss my coffee. The befoulment was neatly packaged in multiple plastic bags with everything that had touched it. My house smelled good before my husband woke up. I cleaned the two right-handed gloves and put them back in their bag for a return. And then I had the funniest thought! I rarely watched “Friends” but my daughter would often share funny parts of episodes with me. My favorite was Phoebe singing “Smelly Cat.” Our dog is Phoebe, our cat is Smelly…Get it! If not, it’s really not that big a deal!


Posted in Animals, Attitude, Blessings, Books, Cats, Challenges, Cleaning, Dogs, Family, Gratefulness, Home, Humor, Life, Mornings, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Gratitude = Attitude

Not something new but, it is amazing how much easier life is when you have an attitude of gratitude; something I recently learned for the umpteenth time in my life. It started like this…

Our church had been studying the book of Genesis. A book that I sometimes feel I’ve read so many times that it’s easy to zone out during the message and have an “I already know this” type of mindset. I have to say that that was impossible as each week’s presentation was both thought provoking and applicable to my life. Especially one story and teaching on the life of Joseph.
In case you are unfamiliar, the life of Joseph goes something like this…

Joseph at 17 years old was his father Jacob’s, favorite. So much so that Jacob gave Joseph a beautiful coat. Now, Joseph had eleven brothers, eventually the twelve tribes of Israel. They had different mothers, but still, lots of brothers. Joseph had dreams first that his brothers in the form of sheaves bowed down to his sheaf and then that the sun, moon and eleven stars (his parents and eleven brothers) were bowing down to him. His brothers were not fond of Joseph, for obvious reasons, and they were kind of put off by his dreams, so they sold him into slavery, killed a goat dipped his beautiful coat in the goat’s blood and brought it to their father. Jacob assumed Joseph was killed when he was, in fact, taken to Egypt. He was bought by Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh, in Egypt. The Lord was with Joseph and Joseph finds favor with Potiphar and was made the overseer of Potiphar’s house. Potiphar’s wife “wanted” Joseph, but Joseph repeatedly turned her down. She grabbed his garment, he ran out of the house and she accused him of trying to “lie with her.” Joseph went to jail.
While in jail, the Lord was again with Joseph and he found favor with the keeper of the prison. Joseph was put in charge of all of the prisoners that were in the prison.
The cupbearer and the chief baker of the King of Egypt made Pharaoh angry and end up in prison with Joseph. They both had dreams, Joseph interpretted their dreams, one favorably the other not so favorably. Joseph asked the cupbearer to remember him when he was released, which of course he did not do until…Pharaoh had a dream that nobody could interpret. Joseph was called up and interpretted Pharaoh’s dreams so well, that he was put in charge of all of the land of Egypt, second only to Pharaoh.
As per Pharaoh’s dreams, there were seven years of plenty of food and then seven years of famine. Joseph, now 30 years old, had prepared Egypt for the famine by harvesting and saving food during the seven years of plenty. Joseph married, had two sons, and lived as an Egyptian. His brothers came to Egypt to buy food and long story short, he forgave them saying, “…you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good…” In case you’d like to read this for yourself, it can be found in the Bible in Genesis chapters 37 – 50.

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Creepy Technology

My husband tells me technology is a good thing. An important thing. Something we need to move forward with. Personally, I think technology is a questionable thing on many levels and a creepy thing on some.

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Posted in 2020, Alexa, appliances, Books, Cats, Cell Phones, Challenges, Change, Conspiracies, Dogs, Friends, girlfriends, Humor, Husbands, Life, Marriage, technology, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Good Friends on Both Ends

Married friends can be a curious lot. The wife of a couple can be a good friend of mine, but the husband of that couple may not necessarily be a good friend of Cliff’s and vice versa. The dynamics, when friends are only on one end can be somewhat strained for the spouse on the other end. We are fortunate to have quite a few married friends who are good friends on both ends. Last week we hosted George and Theri, two of our very good friends on both ends.

When good friends on both ends come for a visit, it’s always fun and always busy. When fun and busy join forces, people can get tired and when people can get tired they sometimes can forget things. Things that should not be forgotten, as you will soon see, but I digress.

Our time together began on Wednesday night, well, not really. George and Theri arrived on Wednesday night. We were already asleep. We gave them the door code and left the light on in their room. Very good friends can do that, which is part of what makes them very good friends. We were asleep because Thursday was going to be busy. A full day, open to close, at Epcot. Can I tell you that I can’t tell you the last time I was at a Disney park at night in the dark? In fact, I can’t really tell you the last time I was awake at night when it was dark. We were once at a park so early in the morning that it was dark, but I don’t think that counts.


The full day at Epcot was perfect. The weather was beautiful. Epcot was, and still is, hosting their Food & Wine Festival, so we ate and talked our way around the world a couple of times making the day almost fly by. We were waiting for the closing fireworks show that was to start at 9:00. We found our “watching spot” at 8:00. We were ready, we were willing, we were all still vertical and then they announced that the show would begin at 9:45. Since we are all fairly well into our 60’s, we were not really that ready or willing and some of us, okay me, would no longer be vertical at that time; so the men went on one more ride and the ladies went to shop a little and use the restroom one more time. We also stopped for a hard cider flight, hence the need for one more restroom trip, then we all went home.

Friday and Saturday were easier days full of hiking and family and food.

Sunday we fought the Halloween crowds at St. Augustine. The most crowded we’ve ever seen it with little kids and adults in all kinds of costumes, some of them deep inside a costume that was blown up around them so they looked like the air-filled ornamentation people put on their lawns. It was kind of weird.

Monday George and Theri were going home. I was beginning to think that I might make it through an entire visit without doing something funky to myself or anyone else. The key word there would be “might”.

They didn’t have to leave until 1:30 or so in the afternoon, leaving plenty of time for a game of Scrabble, a nice lunch, and a visit with our youngest daughter and the youngest of her sons. A nice day, a relaxing day; but, I was tired and sensed a cold Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino bottle in the fridge calling my name. It was a call I should never have answered.

I took the bottle from the fridge and decided that I would only drink a little bit of it, enough for a quick pick-me-up. I shook the bottle, loosened the cap, and put it down, temporarily distracted by I don’t know what. I came back to the bottle, post distraction, and that’s when I forgot. I forgot a thing I should not have forgotten and I shook the bottle, again. This time with a loosened cap.


You know how people look when they walk into a room and a bucket of water falls down on them from the door frame drenching them from head-to-toe? Picture that with a cold Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino. It was in my hair, on my face, covering my glasses so I couldn’t see, on my shirt, dripping down my chest, and on both of my arms. It was on the floor, on the wall, and on the pantry door. It was everywhere. I stood in a state of shock trying my best to fathom how and what I had just done. Theri was in hysterics laughing, almost to the point of tears. I joined her and then changed my clothes. We mopped up the mess together. And there it was. The joyful, hysterical, culmination of a very good friends on both ends visit! There was even a little bit of Starbucks left in the bottle for my quick pick-me-up.

Very good friends on both ends, they’re a Very Big Deal!


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