I promise to post photos of the new place and a "life" update soon!
For now, I have to share a song that I'm loving!
I promise to post photos of the new place and a "life" update soon!
For now, I have to share a song that I'm loving!
I stumbled across Masha D'yans' artwork the other day, and I'm in love! Something about the combination of pink, birds, flowering trees, rain and umbrellas makes me incredibly happy.
Here's a little eye-candy for the weekend!
Maybe it's just me...but this SNL skit cracks me up. Every time I hear "Single Ladies" on the radio I picture Justin Timberlake and Andy Samberg dancing in unitards.
Have a happy day! :)
The “Dalton” house, as it’s fondly referred to, has been in my family for many years. My mom lived in this house when she was a child, along with her four sisters, and my grandparents. I can’t imagine 7 people living in this little 800 square foot house (I feel cramped here by myself).
At some point in time, my grandfather on my father’s side purchased the house, and various other family members have lived here over the years.
In October 2004, I purchased the home from my grandfather. We spent several months remodeling the house (and by “we”, I primarily mean Chris, my dad, and my grandpa), and I moved in February of 2005.
This place has been a wonderful home, and I’m sad to say goodbye, but I’m excited about living closer to my parents in a home with more square footage.
The first week of April I should have keys to my new "home-sweet-home".
Have a wonderful weekend!
Per usual, the days have somehow slipped away. My saving grace? I’m attempting to take a photo-a-day this year, and can highlight the last several weeks! Here goes…
I’ve been playing pinochle almost weekly! Every Friday night we head over to Paul’s moms for pizza and pinochle. It’s become a fun little ritual, and I’m completely hooked on the game!
This is my "puppy" Missy. She follows me everywhere. I love her eyes!
Insane amounts of snow + poor insulation = ice dams on my roof. Dad to the rescue!
Work, work, and more work!
My sweet Nookie! Plus, I've been slowly making my way through The Tudors -- who knew history could be so entertaining?
Konrad inspired me to start playing, and I even signed up for lessons! But, let’s be honest here, I really haven’t made much progress because I haven’t made the time to practice! I can almost play "happy birthday" (aka -- 3 chords). :)
Frosty trees…it’s been a coooold winter!
I really do love my work!
Awwww yea! Super Bowl Sunday. The only day I enjoy watching sports on TV.
Cancun…this was an incredibly relaxing trip! Lots of reading, eating and laying on the beach. I’d go back in a heartbeat.
Back to reality!
I'm pretty sure I have the worlds best family.
I starred in my own version of "What Not to Wear"...it was fun! I flew down to Portland for the day and shopped with Paula and Gina. I wish I could say I bought the two cute jackets above, but they're on my wish-list!
Sleepy cats...busy day!
Self-portrait (it was a good hair day).
More family! That's my cute mom wearing blue! :)
And those, my friends, are the highlights from the last two months! I hope all is well in your world!
I absolutely love to read, and many of favorite books are inspirational. I created a scrapbook awhile back that is a compilation of many short stories that I've fallen in love with over the years. I love flipping through this little album and reading the words that touch my heart. I hope you enjoy these as much as I do...
Two Wolves Inside Each of Us
An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.
“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other wolf is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person too.”
The grandson thought about this for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
This is a story about two Monks. Both men had taken a strict vow of chastity and celibacy. They were not allowed to touch or even speak to a woman.
One day the two men were traveling between monasteries when they approached a swiftly moving river. Standing at the edge of the river was a woman crying. The woman turned to the two men and said, “I cannot swim, and the waters are moving too swiftly for me to walk. I need to cross the river to return home to my village and family. Would one of you please help me?”
Immediately, one of the monks picked up the woman, carried her across the river, and set her down on the other side.
As the two men continued on their journey, the man who had not carried the woman began to get incredibly angry with the man who had carried her. He yelled, “I can’t believe you would so easily disregard our sacred vows. How could you simply pick that woman up without giving it a second thought?” He continued to berate the other man for several more miles.
The monk who had carried the woman walked along silently, but finally he remarked, “I left that woman at the side of the river. Why are you still carrying her?”
Footprints in the Sand
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there were one set of footprints.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord, "You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?"
The Lord replied, "The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you."
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another
to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you
from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Making a Difference
Once a man was walking along a beach. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. Off in the distance he could see a person going back and forth between the surf's edge and and the beach. Back and forth this person went. As the man approached he could see that there were hundreds of starfish stranded on the sand as the result of the natural action of the tide.
The man was stuck by the the apparent futility of the task. There were far too many starfish. Many of them were sure to perish. As he approached the person continued the task of picking up starfish one by one and throwing them into the surf.
As he came up to the person he said, "You must be crazy. There are thousands of miles of beach covered with starfish. You can't possibly make a difference." The person looked at the man. He then stooped down and pick up one more starfish and threw it back into the ocean. He turned back to the man and said, "It sure made a difference to that one!"
If you have a favorite short story I'd love to hear it! Please leave me a comment!
Happy New Year!
Ohhhh...how I love the Tran-Siberian Orchestra. I was bummed to find out they weren't coming to Spokane this year. They have the most amazing laser light show, and most of the guitarists have prettier hair than me. :)
This will have to tide me over...
I'm never sure if these "email" stories are true, but it warmed my heart, and I sure wish it was true...
This was written by a Metro Denver Hospice Physician
I was driving home from a meeting this evening about 5, stuck in traffic on Colorado Blvd., and the car started to choke and splutter and die - I barely managed to coast , cursing, into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking traffic and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn't even turn over. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the quickie mart building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a gas pump, so I got out to see if she was okay.
When I got there, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than that she had fallen; she was a young woman who looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.
At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the ancient Suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95.
I asked her if she was okay and if she needed help, and she just kept saying 'I don't want my kids to see me crying! ,' so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. So I asked, 'And you were praying?' T hat made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, 'He heard you, and He sent me.'
I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car completely, and while it was fueling, walked to the next door McDonald's and bought 2 big bags of food, some gift certificates for more, and a big cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who attacked it like wolves, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.
She told me her name, and that she lived in Kansas City . Her boyfriend left 2 months ago and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent Jan. 1, and finally, in desperation, had called her parents, with whom she had not spok en in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with them and try to get on her feet there.
So she packed up everything she owned in the car. She told the kids they were going to California for Christmas, but not that they were going to live there. I gave her my gloves, a little hug and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, 'So, are you like an angel or something?'
I said, 'Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people.'
Sometimes the angels fly close enough to you that you can hear the flutter of their wings...