Last trip to Massachusetts

Yesterday we returned from my youngest daughter Jill's in Attleboro, MA. The car trip there and back was uneventful. An 11 1/2 hr trip. Daughter, Susan, and I had lots of fun both ways. We laughed, joked, reminisced about the good and bad times of our lives. There was more good than bad.
There were thirty or forty highway patrol cars out. It wasn't a national holiday. I wondered if there was an alert. Who knows? It's nice to know we are so protected. Though it didn't feel that way when one pulled out behind us with his lights raging only to learn he was after another speeder. We did try to keep to the speed limit most of the time.
The triplets are 13, now and their younger brother is 9. They are taller than I. Not the 9 year old. But as fast as he's growing it won't be long. Tanner, Chase and Mackenzie are all taller. The kids are busy with sports. They went to the Y several times to shoot baskets with dad.

He reported that the two boys could hold their own against the men there.
In July they will be moving closer. Three hours away in Kentucky.
I'm thrilled. I can manage that trip every month or so and I'm sure they can too. I've missed out on sports events, school functions, and other happenings in their lives. Now that my first batch of grandbabies are out of college, two, and two still in, I have younger ones to fill in. Grandchildren are the very best.
I was happy to return to find spring had sprung in Ohio. The sun is shining today. Though it's windy the temps are much warmer than when I left. In Attleboro I saw a number of piles of black snow 8 ft. tall. We had snow flurries yesterday before we left. I'm so over snow. The kiddies love it for sledding and playing outside. They won't have much snow in Kentucky but there will be other things to occupy them. New schools, new friends, new house, new sports teams.

A whole new life. I hope they love it.
I'm anxious now to get out my patio furniture, look for a new patio table and umbrella.

My patio is uncovered. I'm excited to buy flowers and greenery.
I love this time of year. I hope you do too ---wherever you are.
I'm reading The First Phone Call from Heaven by Mitch Albom.

It's the story of a small town on Lake Michigan that gets worldwide attention when its citizens start receiving phone calls from the afterlife. Is it the greatest miracle ever or a massive hoax? Sully Harding, a grief-stricken single father, is determined to find out.

Anyone read that one? Would love to hear your comments. I'm enjoying the first few chapters.
Take care and let me know what's going on in your life - hugs Barb

Shingles: not the roofing kind...

Just when I thought things could not get any worse at our house my husband R came down with shingles. On the day I had to be at the hospital in Columbus with one adult daughter in the morning and then go to Cincinnati to pick up her husband after his stomach surgery the day before, R gets up with a rash that had turned to blisters. We made a quick dash 40 miles away to our family Dr. for a check up and yes my diagnosis was correct. Shingles! So armed with two medications we headed to the medical center to see our daughter, then to Cincinnati to pick up her husband and then home to collapse and hope that that's the end of our downward spiral. I'm worn to a frazzle and so is R. No time for writing or fretting about writing. I do feel good knowing that I have some contest entries out (short stories and one novel) and will be working on my novel at least two days this coming week. I have my writers meeting on Monday at Great Expectations Cafe and Book Store and look for...

A Revolutionary New Diet...

Recently I went on a diet. Like most diets this one was scheduled around a major life event. My daughter's wedding. There would be no shopping for a mother-of-the-bride dress until the pounds came off. Typically I go on a diet on Monday and by Wednesday I've folded beneath the weight of a German chocolate cake. I've been hijacked by as little as a stale pink sugar wafer discovered in the dark recesses of the bread drawer. But this time things were going to be different. I could tell as I went to get the mail and discovered the first crocus of the season. Life was looking up. Even though an icy rain began to fall, my spirits weren't dampened. Not even when huge drops pelted me on the head and I had to dash inside. My latest plan would revolutionize dieting. If it worked for me it would work for the world. I smelled a book deal. I could see myself all made-over and liposuctioned sitting between Oprah and Dr. Oz. It was full speed ahead. Gone were those complex menus...

Mother's Leather Britches...

My mother gardened all her life. It was one of her great loves, next to family, God, and country. Because she grew up during the Depression, she learned to use every last item from her garden for canning, preserving, drying or pickling. Every year at the end of the green bean season she made leather britches, dried beans that would keep for the winter. These were the last beans hanging on the vines. The beans inside had grown to full size with outsides a bit withered. They were beyond the stage to can or preserve, or even to pickle. Although her fried pickled green beans and corn bread were the best in the world. (Well, next to her biscuits and fried apples.) Mother started the drying process with clean beans. She would spread a clean white sheet on a table in the wash room and spread the beans out on that, giving them space to dry. Sometime she would carry the sheet outside and put them on a table in the sun to further the process. The next step involved needle and thread ...

Writing - the ups and downs

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