Alicia Geades was tagged in Paws Boutique photo.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Decorated This Year
 |
| Country Place is Perennially Blooming |
 |
| S'wonnaful; S'mahvelous; S'beeeuutiful |
 |
| And He said, "Let there be light!" |
 | |
| Santa' s on his way down the chimney |
vicariously by Elves interceding
Every year Dad finds a way to pull the Christmas yard decorations out of the attic and get them out into the yard. This year, elves carried out his plan, and the decorations all lit up look great as ever.
We hope Mom, Dad, and everyone receive Santa's deliveries as usual this year, and Mom doesn't put hers under a chair in the dining room, where her presents from last year are still sitting.
Good job, Elves; you never give up.
Talked to Mom and Dad on my birthday, 12/24/2012. They sent out cards and got gifts for everyone; hard to believe, but they accomplished it. Mom told me she fell two days ago, and had not felt like calling around, but she went to emergency, and she was okay with no breaks. Again, hard to believe. She has a doctor's appointment set up. They want to know when I'll be coming to see them; I am saying in June, 2013 since I have trouble getting around now; I'm slow too. I saw them three times last year, I am so happy. We can go down after school is out in June because I will be totally retired finally. Well, Mom and Dad are really hanging in there, and doing well out there in Country Place where everything is perennially blooming.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Stand Fast
How many years
have pushed us to this
in troubled waters
we gather sail
A stalled, still wind
announces the gale
far out to sea
we must brave it
Because those ahead
have braved it
and so shall we
stand fast
have pushed us to this
in troubled waters
we gather sail
A stalled, still wind
announces the gale
far out to sea
we must brave it
Because those ahead
have braved it
and so shall we
stand fast
Saturday, December 8, 2012
.jpg)
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Mom Cooked
Mom cooked and set three squares on everyones' table for many decades. The fact that she cooked very well being indisputable, she possessed the inclination toward dietician, also. Without credentials as such, she was experienced somehow in providing sustenance to raise up and sustain lean BMI's of less than 15% or so. Without considering diet, nutrition, body mass index, cardiovascular, pulmonary, musculoskeletal fitness, the family group carried on activities and interests while Mom managed the physiological wellness of nutrition.
Not a hefty eater herself, she would sychronize kitchen management with dozens of school, work, extra-curricular, church, and household duties; not the least of which was washing, sprinkling, ironing, hanging, and folding all the family's clothes, towels, and sheets everyday. Yet, by the time the dining table was set, and meals were spread in Johnson' Brothers white everyday pottery serving dishes and platters, she methodically portioned out her own plate with textbook proportions, parting out each food group into "edge of the fork" bite-sized pieces, and consuming one bite at a time, chewing each the nutritionally recommended number of chews.
At the same time, she monitored the menu interest level of the communal feast members, checking the consuming speed, availability of seconds on any item, and offerred and served any requests for additional servings, with the anticipation of homemade baked dessert available at the end of any meal. Concurrently, she reminded each one, once and again, of acceptable table manners, chewing requirements, and eating speed limits. No wonder she showed scarce interest in self nuturing. With so much management and supervision going on for family meals, no one could restore herself well enough during the time before the next meal to find peace enough to enjoy one of those meals which had been so meticulously executed by herself. Thereby, with absolute sacrifice of self-need, Mom propelled each one of us to our mandated, chosen, and sometimes preferred tasks which we were free, willing, and able to handle day by day.
One more motherly phenomena which sustained the unit; love's responsibility of action on behalf of benefits for all. And thanks be to you, Almighty, for the heart of Mother, plus Dad, whose true love of work brought those benefits into the household to be given and shared, triumph for all.
Functional Memoires of Sylvia d.
Mom cooked and set three squares on everyones' table for many decades. The fact that she cooked very well being indisputable, she possessed the inclination toward dietician, also. Without credentials as such, she was experienced somehow in providing sustenance to raise up and sustain lean BMI's of less than 15% or so. Without considering diet, nutrition, body mass index, cardiovascular, pulmonary, musculoskeletal fitness, the family group carried on activities and interests while Mom managed the physiological wellness of nutrition.
Not a hefty eater herself, she would sychronize kitchen management with dozens of school, work, extra-curricular, church, and household duties; not the least of which was washing, sprinkling, ironing, hanging, and folding all the family's clothes, towels, and sheets everyday. Yet, by the time the dining table was set, and meals were spread in Johnson' Brothers white everyday pottery serving dishes and platters, she methodically portioned out her own plate with textbook proportions, parting out each food group into "edge of the fork" bite-sized pieces, and consuming one bite at a time, chewing each the nutritionally recommended number of chews.
At the same time, she monitored the menu interest level of the communal feast members, checking the consuming speed, availability of seconds on any item, and offerred and served any requests for additional servings, with the anticipation of homemade baked dessert available at the end of any meal. Concurrently, she reminded each one, once and again, of acceptable table manners, chewing requirements, and eating speed limits. No wonder she showed scarce interest in self nuturing. With so much management and supervision going on for family meals, no one could restore herself well enough during the time before the next meal to find peace enough to enjoy one of those meals which had been so meticulously executed by herself. Thereby, with absolute sacrifice of self-need, Mom propelled each one of us to our mandated, chosen, and sometimes preferred tasks which we were free, willing, and able to handle day by day.
One more motherly phenomena which sustained the unit; love's responsibility of action on behalf of benefits for all. And thanks be to you, Almighty, for the heart of Mother, plus Dad, whose true love of work brought those benefits into the household to be given and shared, triumph for all.
Functional Memoires of Sylvia d.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Pressed on every side;
Hard-pressed turns of tide;
Cold pressed, perfection's chide;
Pressed on every side.
Suppressed scenes in sight;
Oppressed; bonds of fight;
Impressed shows of might;
Suppressed scenes in sight.
Conquests void of light;
Depressed designs' delight;
Inquests' justice plight;
Conquests void of light.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Decades First and Last
Decades First and Last
I danced and sang, twirled and tweeted through my days as a kid.
Not aware much of reality, unless jolted somehow into it. Dreaming,
and observing lifestyles not involving me. My choice: dreaming.
Those were decisive years, years in which life decisions were made.
Yes, personality formed, goals aimed, and means forged. No, nothing,
no one would position my rudder; I would move in my direction, I
thought, not experienced in awareness of where my direction really began.
But flit, flutter, flip, fling, flap, filibuster, flop, flither...I would fibrilate
through it, not to be dissuaded. No, "evasively forwardly" I would move
along: steady, quick, slow, fast, straight, side to side, back, forward,
straight again. Continuously looking out for the signal in the road to
follow. And, no not in the divisive direction, not in the way the world would
send me, but in the way of the new. New ways to clear a trail; paths to new things.
Had anyone committed similarly? No or yes, I had no idea. I would go on this
way alone, and not be eroded in the travel, but waxed more worthy by the
endeavor. And, then, at the end, in the last decade I would see, still as the child.
Not worn, but filled, in the knowing of the new way. Retrieving the life of the
movements to the new way which renews on and on day to day.
by Sylvia d.
I danced and sang, twirled and tweeted through my days as a kid.
Not aware much of reality, unless jolted somehow into it. Dreaming,
and observing lifestyles not involving me. My choice: dreaming.
Those were decisive years, years in which life decisions were made.
Yes, personality formed, goals aimed, and means forged. No, nothing,
no one would position my rudder; I would move in my direction, I
thought, not experienced in awareness of where my direction really began.
But flit, flutter, flip, fling, flap, filibuster, flop, flither...I would fibrilate
through it, not to be dissuaded. No, "evasively forwardly" I would move
along: steady, quick, slow, fast, straight, side to side, back, forward,
straight again. Continuously looking out for the signal in the road to
follow. And, no not in the divisive direction, not in the way the world would
send me, but in the way of the new. New ways to clear a trail; paths to new things.
Had anyone committed similarly? No or yes, I had no idea. I would go on this
way alone, and not be eroded in the travel, but waxed more worthy by the
endeavor. And, then, at the end, in the last decade I would see, still as the child.
Not worn, but filled, in the knowing of the new way. Retrieving the life of the
movements to the new way which renews on and on day to day.
by Sylvia d.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
MOM and DAD and Us
9:01pm
Sylvia Caffery
Hello Pat, Can you put your Football drawings and Missionary drawings over on F.A.S.T. because I don't know how to save them from Facebook. And also I guess you could email them to me, and I could save them on my documents. Thanks, Sylvia
Today
5:14am Patrick Darnell I have been thinking of starting a blog just for the peeps and us... called MOM and POP ... then we could all post things that come up that are so precious we should record them about Mom and Dad and us... eh? I will post them to that .. how would that be?
We must start this conversation today. There are things in Mom and Dad's lives that don't fit into the other formats, plus we want to post things to ourselves... I think this private blog will serve that purpose for now... eh?
I searched for a name that wasn't used and it allowed MOM2POP when I typed it in... I hope that is good for you.
5:14am Patrick Darnell I have been thinking of starting a blog just for the peeps and us... called MOM and POP ... then we could all post things that come up that are so precious we should record them about Mom and Dad and us... eh? I will post them to that .. how would that be?
We must start this conversation today. There are things in Mom and Dad's lives that don't fit into the other formats, plus we want to post things to ourselves... I think this private blog will serve that purpose for now... eh?
I searched for a name that wasn't used and it allowed MOM2POP when I typed it in... I hope that is good for you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)