tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51032623553652397482024-03-05T15:53:04.024-06:00LJ's *Not So Secret* DiaryTurning ordinary into extraordinary **** A Norman Rockwell view of life from this mother of three, wife of one.LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.comBlogger117125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-60274358654578542512018-08-09T13:33:00.000-05:002018-08-09T13:33:38.521-05:00Surrender: It's a Game Changer
Dear Diary,
I know it's been three whole years since I've last written. I mostly write on insignificant topics that I can fully find meaning in.
[Go ahead, take another look at this diary. If it's your first time here, I suggest starting with Half Full & Half Empty, IMG! or Dressing Room Moments II. Really, there's not a bad post in this diary, so go ahead and start at the beginning. winkLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-88564471214296570142015-07-27T15:25:00.001-05:002015-07-27T15:25:30.637-05:00You Know You're in California When...Dear Diary,
Had a fabulous vacation this summer. Flew to the West Coast and spent two weeks experiencing the many facets of California.
What a fascinating state!
From the mountains,
to the ocean,
to the valleys, dry and irrigated for orchards and vineyards,
I'd say the land was as diverse as the people who live there.
I know, Diary, I am so profound today!
But had the landscape notLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-77684696239251106252015-06-03T20:19:00.004-05:002015-06-03T20:22:45.062-05:00The Hulk and His BoyDear Diary,
I learned something from a child in a doctor's office waiting room.
A boy walked in with his father and sat down nearby. IMG --inward mental groan!
I love kids, but I needed a break from little boys for the day.
(I work in a special ed preschool classroom. Need I say more?)
This boy was grasping an Incredible Hulk action figure, as well as a Batman and Robin duo.
He satLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-54423917096344993462015-03-27T16:50:00.001-05:002015-07-27T14:43:52.614-05:00I ♥ NYDear Diary,
They say New Yorkers are rude.
I didn't find them to be any ruder than dwellers from any other large city.
In fact, many were actually pleasant.
Let me reminisce.
The friendliness was apparent as soon as we made our way out of the airport to find a cab; many kind sirs asked if we wanted a ride. So sweet! In fact many folks near the large tourist LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-83218916976137910652014-10-29T17:45:00.000-05:002015-02-17T20:26:49.500-06:00Practical Problems for SuperheroesDear Diary,
Those of us alive in the '70s probably know the hit single by Jim Croce, "You Don't Mess Around with Jim." Here's the chorus. Feel free to sing along:
You don't tug on superman's cape.
You don't spit into the wind.
You don't pull the mask off that old lone ranger.
And you don't mess around with Jim.
Good advice, right?
By the way, Croce also composed "Bad,LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-45227971582299773462014-09-29T20:58:00.000-05:002014-09-29T20:58:05.627-05:00My Fall ParanoiaDear Diary,
Wow. It's been two months since I have posted anything. It's not for lack of desire, but lack of creativity and time.
Now that fall is official, I look around at the beauty in it. I am reluctant to let go of summer.
Really I am still trying to find summer.
So the fact that October is here is hard to swallow. But God certainly made LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-58409843111041379732014-07-29T07:33:00.002-05:002014-09-07T10:24:45.851-05:00Half Full and Half Empty: A Morning DialogueDear Diary,
I've been waking up early lately. Someone tell my brain it is summer, and I don't need to
wakey wakey at 5:30 a.m. The problem is not necessarily the waking, it is the tossing and turning afterward, the refusal to relax, turn over, and go back to sleep.
Here is how a dialogue starts in my brain at 5:30 a.m. Since a dialogue requires more than one person, I&LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-6302784456319501952014-07-28T16:57:00.000-05:002014-07-28T16:57:11.358-05:00A Few Words About Nothing in ParticularDear Diary,
Over the weekend I had a day in which the hardest decision I had to make was what color nail polish to put on my toes.
It was a perfectly unproductive day of rest.
The first part of this day consisted of a short drive to a friend's house with my girls for a little GB&M.
Girls Brunch and Musical.
I think this is the start of a great tradition: A little LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-29736484410520292312014-07-17T09:40:00.000-05:002014-07-17T09:40:30.843-05:00Adult Phrases I Never Understood as a Kid (But Do Now)Dear Diary,
I've had a list sitting on my desk for more than a year.
It is titled: ADULT PHRASES I NEVER UNDERSTOOD AS A KID (BUT DO NOW).
It is a brainstorm of phrases like, "Wait 'till your father gets home," and "This is going to hurt me as much as it will hurt you." You know, stuff my growing and logical mind didn't understand in childhood. LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-54055236449939044392014-07-08T16:17:00.000-05:002014-07-08T16:37:42.115-05:00When a Phone is Not a PhoneDear Diary,
Yesterday I had a conversation with someone who was trying to explain where a certain lake was in another state I will be visiting. As she described the roads and the intersection with the Orange Moose*, she quipped, "You know, just use your phone to look it up."
I kept a straight face, but inside I went, "HA!" like some text bubble above Lucy's head in a Charles Schulz LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-37923655331203718342014-06-15T13:20:00.001-05:002014-06-15T13:20:15.172-05:00Alcohol, Sports and...Indigestion? Dear Diary,
In preparation for Father's Day, I was at the store looking for a card to give my husband and my dad.
I tend to go with humor when looking for a card for my dad.
I think the sentimental cards are too schmaltzy for him. He appreciates sentiment, just not scrolly-scripty-cursivey stuff.
The opposite is true for my Mom. When shopping for Mother's Day cards, I look for the LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-24907603571711987692014-06-11T11:15:00.001-05:002014-06-11T11:19:30.526-05:00Hummer!Dear Diary,
This is probably my fifth year feeding humming birds. That first year it took most of the summer for my feeder to be discovered. It tried my patience, but it did pay off.
The following summers continued the trend; I wanted to give up after weeks of no sightings.
Forget it, they are not coming.
Sugar water will ferment and mold after several days LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-17873275262193433332014-06-07T13:37:00.000-05:002014-06-07T13:42:47.373-05:00Porch TimeDear Diary,
I've been inspired by the green thumbs and artistic skills of friends who have a knack for creating beautiful spaces. In other words, I have seen some back yards that just beg me to sit and rest awhile, maybe even with a special beverage. (I'm talkin' coffee, people!)
I have seen humbler retreats more reminiscent of my own; an aging, worn deck or not-so-perfect patio LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-823703274870310602014-06-04T15:04:00.000-05:002014-06-04T15:04:41.223-05:00Dressing Room Moments IIDear Diary,
After several weeks and two failed attempts, I am happy to be publishing a post!
There was a moment in a dressing room recently that I just can't keep to myself.
[Link here for my first dressing room moment post written almost one year ago.]
I want to share it because it was such a cliche moment for us parents grappling with our teens' choices....a charming speech LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-8680393911835103832014-04-02T13:42:00.000-05:002014-04-02T13:42:41.081-05:00The BEST Gal Pal ReunionDear Diary,
I spent the last two nights of my spring break away with The Gals.
Not my own girls, but with the most genuine girlfriends a gal could ask for.
College is a time of stress and growth and fun.
In those circumstances, bonding with those you share it with is only natural. I am blessed that those bonds remain strong to this day -- though time and distance try LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-11483920138180183332014-03-11T13:24:00.002-05:002014-03-11T13:24:51.751-05:00The Lottery LadyDear Diary,
I don't play the Lotto. Unless the jackpot is record-breaking-ly HUGE, and my chances of winning are infinitesimally smaller than they would be on a normal night; then I open my wallet and throw my money at a little piece of paper containing some randomly picked numbers and a dream.
I do watch the drawings when I catch the nighly news, especially when LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-73630345047637904152014-02-25T21:43:00.002-06:002014-02-25T21:43:20.334-06:00In the Heart of the MomentDear Diary,
Today I saw my heart.
I don't mean in a poetic way, within some act of kindness or secret evil tendency.
I mean in a literal, physical kind of way.
I took a stress test, and, along with it, an ultrasound of my pumper.
It didn't dawn on me that I would be able to see the pictures while I lay in my breezy, gray hospital gown on the white papered table.
But when LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-29252054745240523872014-02-22T18:18:00.002-06:002014-02-25T21:47:23.287-06:00Tale of A Fish TileDear Diary,
See this fish tile?
This brightly painted piece of Spanish clay holds a lot of meaning for me and my husband.
It's a reminder,
a memory,
a souvenir,
a promise,
a hope.
~Reminder~
I keep it in my bathroom where I see it first thing in the morning and last thing at night (right next to Psalm 118:24: This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it).
~LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-82827230899065240952014-02-17T13:57:00.000-06:002014-02-17T13:57:16.333-06:00Obscure Olympic ObservationsDear Diary,
It is Olympic season, the biggest international athletic event televised, and I have become the biggest couch potato in order to watch them. While it isn't on 24/7 in my home, it is on every evening and weekends. Yes, I am even sacrificing my Downton Abby time slot to watch men and women hurtle themselves down mountains and over patches of ice.
Spending so much time LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-53456601634655353362014-02-11T19:30:00.000-06:002014-02-11T19:30:34.919-06:00For the BirdsDear Diary,
Take a look at this winter scene outside my window.
Do you see anything wrong with this picture? Like the fact that there are no birds at the feeder? And the fact that the feeder is (still) full?
I was too late.
I didn't remember to put the feeder out this fall.
Being the compassionate tightwad that I am, I only feed the birds in winter when food is more scarce.
LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-22111196412884864332014-01-30T17:49:00.001-06:002014-01-30T17:49:24.017-06:00Colorful HeartsDear Diary,
I sat next to her, a sugary sweet kindergartner. We were coloring.
She showed me her picture: two brightly dressed scribble people. I could tell they were girls from the long hair--one blonde, one brown.
Colorful hearts surrounded them; green, purple, red.
"Guess who this is," she smiled at me.
"Hmmm, who?" I asked, not wanting to LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-1574392655616516392014-01-28T20:39:00.000-06:002014-01-28T20:39:32.158-06:00A Very Big Girl DayDear Diary,
My oldest girl is growing up.
She had a Very Big Girl Day today.
Filling some big shoes 13 years ago.
She had the day off of school --the second day off to be precise, thanks to another polar bear vortex --and, being the tough Midwesterners we are, we decided it was an opportunity to head out the frosty door and take care of some Big Girl business.
First, LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-41976870576969432852014-01-17T14:16:00.000-06:002014-01-17T14:16:17.311-06:00Are You Mexican?Dear Diary,
I work in a bilingual school.
The minorities are the majority here.
These dark haired children with varying degrees of beautiful, not-so-pale skin dominate the hallways and classrooms. I am hard pressed to find any child of Anglo/European descent in the building.
Family and friends who are readers of this blog know what I look like. But in case a LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-72517718648118018852014-01-09T14:28:00.001-06:002014-01-16T13:26:08.830-06:00Keep Calm and ?Dear Diary,
I am baking cookies today and while I wait for them to cool I decided it was a good time to share my new fridge mantra for the year.
But before I did that, I needed to do some research on the "Keep Calm and Carry On" slogan that became so popular in the last couple of years. I wondered about its origin. I had heard it was from Britain, hence the crown, LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5103262355365239748.post-88280013407844264422014-01-05T15:24:00.000-06:002014-01-05T15:24:28.868-06:00Lies for 2014Dear Diary,
This Christmas I found out I am pretty good at lying.
I had appointed myself Game Director for a gathering with my family.
The Ding-Dong Bell game we attempted didn't go over very well.
I could tell by the blank look on my brother's face.
Or was that disdain?
Anyway.
We also played a game called Two Truths and a Lie. A person tells three things about himself (LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11945154014845226481noreply@blogger.com0