The Interview

find it here

The company I work for is being taken over and today was the long awaited day to sit with the H.R. person and find out what my pay would be.  This is the health care field and I don't care where you stand by now we all must realize costs with Obama Care are going up. I was of course hoping against the tide for a bit more money. The proposal was for me to make an increase of 23 cents an hour.  I was telling the lovely H.R. person who seemed to be very excited to present me with this offer that it was unacceptable.  I was worth more.  I declined to sign it and it will go back with my impressive job description to be reconsidered. 
While this was playing out I was fiddling with my hair. A nervous habit of mine. Something very hard and sticky was in my hair. The H.R. person was watching me intently. 
We continued to chat while I picked the sharp stickiness out of my hair and tried to bring it to my pocket. The conversation had come to it's end and I shook H.R.'s hand and left. In the hallway I reached into my pocket and pulled out the lump. It was a bright yellow Lemon Ricola Cough Drop. It had been stuck in my hair all morning.  My grandson got into my cough drops this a.m. and must have deposited it there when he hugged me goodbye. 
Dear Universe,
The next time you send me out on a mission where I have to stand up for my rights please tell me first about the cough drop you have stuck to the side of my head. 
Anne
and here as promised a picture of me with my new glasses.

Lambie

What have you been doing this week?
If I do get the 23 cents increase I will put it in here.

Mouse Bank

My Mother always told me it says something in the bible about not letting ourselves be "puffed up". Don't feel self righteous or overly important. Least you find yourself with a hard sticky lump on your head at the worst possible time. This is Universal.

Cleaned The Closet

When the closet is cleaned out...

the empty closet

You will have no place to sleep...

My bed

The end.

Anne

Messy

I have admitted just how messy I am.  

the knitting needle drawer

I posted a picture of my really big mess on this blog:
http://pwaknits.blogspot.com/
I am either the messiest knitter or the only one foolish enough to brag about it.
I have tried to clean up by starting a vintage shop and cleaning out some of the stash.  
Things like this are going to be sold.

vintage thread and buttons are so hard to part with

Then I went out this am and stopped at Joann's for just a little something and came home with this:

what was I thinking?

I have no place to put it.  
;) anne

Family 2012

The last day of Christmas vacation...

we went to Myakka State Park Sarasota, FL

the bird walk over the grass and lake offered a safe place for toddlers to explore...

a place for a boy's curiosity to bloom...

a chance for Auntie to get one more armful of boy...

for cousins to climb...

 a moment for proud gramma to share the stage of life with her son and grand children...

for Momma Biz to put her back into it and have her heart and hands filled with the loveliest of children...
The house is quiet now.  Decorations are stored away for another year.  Gramma and Papa have had a couple of days to get back into their routine.  The memories begin. Where did two and a half weeks go so quickly?  I am already planning for when... for when we get together again.
God thank you for the joys of family and the many blessings in my life. 
Anne

Step Stools, Spanx and Marraige To The Right Guy

When I was single between the end of a 23 year marriage and finding the last man I will ever marry I was looking for the right guy. I was in Hiawasse, Georgia coming out of an all you can eat buffet with my brother Chip and our Mom when I thought I saw him. He came out of the restaurant with his wife or maybe she was still his lucky girlfriend. They both had the ample markings of never having missed dinner or the buffet line. His big red pick up truck was parked beside our car. He was tall and swung long blue jean clad legs from under his well belted waist and belly. She was short and round and he held her arm as they laughed and walked to the passenger door of the truck. Being a Southern Gentleman he opened the door for her, no surprise there, but what happened next knocked me in the solar plexus. He reached into the bed of the truck and pulled out a step stool, placed it on the ground by the side of the door and helped her up onto the stool and into the truck. With an affectionate pat on her bottom he made sure she was all the way in and ready to perch on the seat before closing the door and putting the stool away.

I was stunned and my Mom and Chip and I turned to each other and let out a collective breath and sigh and "WOW DID YOU SEE THAT". We had all been watching and equally captivated at the loving gesture. It instantly created a new frame of reference for me. Find a loving and supportive man willing to help in any situation. I would have expected ridicule and jokes waiting for her to pull herself into the truck's cab. Instead of teasing and embarrassment we watched kindness and caring pull out of the parking lot in that truck.

It took a couple more years before my right guy came along. But when he did he was able to help me out with kindness and humor. He carefully drove around a parking lot to look for me when I had told him I'd wait in our car for him to pay the breakfast bill. I was happily reading the Sunday paper in the car when out of the passenger side review mirror I saw him. He was cruising by slowly and unmistakably in our bright orange Pontiac Grand Prix. I looked around me and in an instant realized I was sitting in the wrong car, different make different color, reading somebody else s Sunday paper while he patiently looked for me. Flinging open the car door I fled to the safety of my husbands car and we shared one of many hearty laughs.
This morning he helped me into a pair of Spanx. Spanx for those of you who might be uninformed are the new millennium's girdle. Spandex with no visible pantie lines. I bought them to wear under the dress I am wearing to my son's wedding. They are a remarkably tight fit and required some engineering and assistance to get into. He was just the guy for the job and again we shared in the fun and humor of life. He is my rock and safe place. He shared our home with my mother when she was in her nineties with much more grace than I and stood by me when she died. He has taken care of our pets and home and me with good grace and humor.

My son is getting married. I can't imagine his utterly lovely, long and willowy bride to be will ever need a step stool or a pair of Spanx. What she will need is a guy who will help her out when she falls a bit short and possibly lands in the wrong car, or out of a tight squeeze in a sticky situation. No doubt he will need the same of her. I hope I have set him off with enough humor in his kind heart and enough patience in his eager soul to meet any challenge that married life and a long relationship can bring. Marriage takes love which is patience and kindness. Humor is the balm that eases the way.

I Corinthians 13