tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14412761025348932672024-02-28T22:52:00.834-08:00Cross Your T'sHome of Kelly Hoeckelberg-Young, Picture Book Author & PhotographerKelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.comBlogger169125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-83847690549110894062016-02-26T15:54:00.000-08:002016-02-26T15:54:08.680-08:00'The Nightingale' ... Remembering a Trip to Mauthausen<div align="left">
<span style="color: black;">My book club just finished the exquisite book, 'The Nightingale', by Kristin Hannah. When we picked the book, it came with high recommendations ... which didn't stop me from wondering if I would enjoy a book set in Nazi-occupied France during World War II. But, I did love it. I highly recommend it. When it ended, I wasn't quite ready to leave. I loved that it was a book about two very different, but equally strong, sisters. I loved that it was a book about resilience ... in particular, that of women trying to survive and protect and, under the most brutal of conditions, make a difference. And, I loved that it felt real. Yes, it is a fictional book, but the non-fiction woven throughout transported me back in time to my visit to Mauthausen Concentration Camp in 1992. At the time, it wasn't a place I wanted to visit ... but, I knew it was a place I <em>needed</em> to see.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">The reflection below comes straight from my college photo book, highlighting my time as an exchange student in Austria. While most of the entries and captions are happy and hilarious, this one is devastatingly solemn. When I put the photo book together, this particular entry was the only one that displayed no photos, just words.</span> </div>
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<strong>Mauthausen Concentration Camp</strong></div>
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October 18, 1992</div>
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I suppose the weather was what one would call "perfect" for a trip to a concentration camp - cold and damp, with a constant drizzle falling from the cloudy gray sky. For me, the weather added to the heaviness and gloom that I felt as I walked through the buildings and grounds of the camp. Mauthausen was built beginning in 1938, and was listed as a Level 3 camp, i.e. no return to society. Thousands died in this labor camp under the Nazi regime.</div>
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As we entered the camp, the first building our group was shown was a bunker. The rooms in the bunker had wooden bunk beds in them - each bunk bed wide enough to fit <em>one </em>normal-sized man laying flat on his back. The "prisoners", however, were forced to sleep three men to a bed. Even at the extremely emaciated state these men and women were in, this would have been extremely difficult. I'm sure, however, that this must have been one of the only ways they were able to stay warm throughout the night.</div>
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Next, we were directed towards the museum, where we were also shown a movie about the holocaust. The things I learned from the movie and museum were disgusting, sickening, and fascinating. Thousands of prisoners were forced to carry large boulders up the steps of the "Stairway of Death." If <em>one </em>of these people were to slip or "get pushed", it would turn into an avalanche of people and stones, killing hundreds. Himler, who was in charge of the camps, stated that he didn't "enjoy" his visits to the camps because they made him "sick to his stomach". While Germans and Austrians usually had <em>some </em>chance of survival, Poles, Russians, and Jews had no chance. Prisoners were usually fed every third day, only three spoonfuls. If they ate more they were beaten to death. When it rained, the prisoners had to lay on the ground and form a human carpet for the S.S. men to walk over so their shoes wouldn't get wet and dirty. No matter what the weather, prisoners had to stand outside from 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day.</div>
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Towards the end of the movie, I could hardly bring myself to keep my eyes on the screen. I kept forcing myself to watch, however, because it's too easy - in our day and age - to forget the tragedies that occurred so many years ago. It's so easy for us to simply turn our eyes away and not watch. The movie showed piles of emaciated dead bodies; bodies being carelessly thrown into carts; close-ups of bodies covered with flies. The pictures were powerful and frightening. How could any human care <em>so much </em>for dictatorship and so little for human life and dignity? After seeing the movie, I didn't want to be at the camp any longer. Many people came out of the movie in tears.</div>
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We continued our tour in an amazing silence - there was absolutely nothing that could be said. We walked through rooms with human-size ovens which were used to incinerate dead bodies, then continued into a room resembling a large communal shower area. The prisoners who walked into this room<em> thought </em>they were going to get a shower . . . instead of water, however, they were sprayed with fatally poisonous gases.</div>
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We were led through a torture chamber, and into an area resembling a hallway. This hallway, however, had open spaces on either side, and its walls were chipped and worn. A single sign posted on the wall stated something to the effect of "The chambers on your left and right were once used as storage for dead bodies." I could envision the bodies carelessly piled on top of each other as if they were really there. I stood in that one spot for a long time.</div>
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Americans are generally taught in school that the Jews were the prisoners in the concentration camps. However, the Jews were only one of a large number of populations, including black people, Poles, Russians, homosexuals, Germans, Viennese, and many more. Prisoners wore I.D.s which identified why they were in the camp. There were even "special" I.D.s for those who fit more than one category.</div>
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After touring the buildings, we were encouraged to walk around the grounds of the camp. Several of us decided to go find the "Stairway of Death". It was raining, and the rocky path leading down to the stairs was slippery. From the path, we could see the cliff that the S.S. would push prisoners off of into the lake far below. </div>
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I wanted to take a picture to show my family and friends what this place was like, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. A picture couldn't do justice to what really happened. All anybody would be able to see in a picture would be a lake and a cliff, or steep, rocky stairs, or an empty building ... but, that was <strong>not</strong> what this place was.</div>
Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-74303971962015668232015-10-16T13:51:00.000-07:002015-10-16T13:52:47.267-07:00Morning Walk ... Uh, Carry ...How Zeke and I roll on morning walks when he ...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2J7mC_AWwdtTRmOu4xxonci1kI3QRrDfL2TfoH6nJPYHVNN4_ParADcL95P4c4uxflU30JM6UBclyGyk7m1rBNtRPUyotI8K8fv1Q9_OCjO39TSxs_HxuedzrsGbRQlrF-Odqxx7txw/s1600/20151006_084334+%255B1703897%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2J7mC_AWwdtTRmOu4xxonci1kI3QRrDfL2TfoH6nJPYHVNN4_ParADcL95P4c4uxflU30JM6UBclyGyk7m1rBNtRPUyotI8K8fv1Q9_OCjO39TSxs_HxuedzrsGbRQlrF-Odqxx7txw/s320/20151006_084334+%255B1703897%255D.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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is not feeling inspired (no human brother & sister, birds, cats, or dogs contained within fences to chase), is feeling stubborn (completely normal), and/or is spooked (by scary Halloween lawn ornaments, other dogs/humans in his path, newspapers wrapped in plastic, or large RVs parked curbside).<br />
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I guess we should just call it a morning 'carry'. Silly pup. :-)Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-892257980322520532015-08-03T17:23:00.001-07:002015-08-03T17:23:32.791-07:00Sidewalk Chalk Graffiti ... Take 2!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PhcLnyrA1IksIdjACPdQvE4nQY0dX6II1uv933O5PG0V_0hyphenhyphenzU_9TMpVhtpIapxDpeDpPNulV3y4IqcoYdJZrBarXxQBvhSOkgvm1hd3jqHy3BITeRvHFvCQ8VhsT2AIOf0mSFF_oyE/s1600/B%2527s+Chalk+Graffiti+%25232+-+7-2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PhcLnyrA1IksIdjACPdQvE4nQY0dX6II1uv933O5PG0V_0hyphenhyphenzU_9TMpVhtpIapxDpeDpPNulV3y4IqcoYdJZrBarXxQBvhSOkgvm1hd3jqHy3BITeRvHFvCQ8VhsT2AIOf0mSFF_oyE/s320/B%2527s+Chalk+Graffiti+%25232+-+7-2015.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I just had to do one more post highlighting my son's sidewalk chalk graffiti. I love the words and phrases he draws (and, hey ... he took one of my suggestions from my last post! :-)). Sometimes, it's just him ... other times, there are several kids in our driveway creating entertaining images and uplifting words.<br />
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The best part is the feedback we hear ... from neighbors we know ("It made my day to walk to the mailbox and see these words!") and exercisers who just happen to be passing by ("We look forward to seeing what word is written on your driveway when we come by each night!").<br />
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His artwork continues to be a great reminder to me of how easy it is to share some hope, a little love, and a smile.Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-22327032024804802882015-06-29T17:24:00.001-07:002015-06-29T17:24:43.648-07:00Love ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKxqbZ1L2kv1VZTrl2VtGgolOHrNhDEke6CXFlHc29V2jQVPWvBCWj6uISdFOnxOGe8UCH2oyjPIjQoPpkZEbrU1RuTl7iS65472RgSdvqt-g8q98eA7_eEmCj1Ts1t_qiTTTrrsQ2iY/s1600/B%2527s+Chalk+Graffiti+4.5x5.5+-+6-2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKxqbZ1L2kv1VZTrl2VtGgolOHrNhDEke6CXFlHc29V2jQVPWvBCWj6uISdFOnxOGe8UCH2oyjPIjQoPpkZEbrU1RuTl7iS65472RgSdvqt-g8q98eA7_eEmCj1Ts1t_qiTTTrrsQ2iY/s320/B%2527s+Chalk+Graffiti+4.5x5.5+-+6-2015.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My
son was busy expressing his creativity this weekend ... sidewalk 'graffiti', he
called it. He and his younger sister picked all the words ... I had nothing to
do with it. I just watched, as words that so perfectly represented the history-making weekend we were in the midst of seemed to appear, one after the other, on the scorching pavement. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Love ... Peace ... Bold ... Laugh ... Hope ... Joy. All the things we wish for every single soul. If everyone abided by these simple, straightforward words ... I suspect more problems would be solved than created.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I think he did
ask me for a word, at one point … but, I liked the direction he was heading,
and decided not to add my two cents. I’ve been thinking, though … about words I
might suggest, if he asked again. Kindness … Respect … Smile ... and maybe even Forgive.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What word would you add?</span></span></div>
Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-42182082054128152852015-06-19T16:26:00.002-07:002015-06-19T16:29:23.473-07:00Good Things Await ...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvAwM_EMmnKvnUR07tm-tNqAikviTdjXE66lzfrlgSxs4UkoaXHDj4W7yblLQ2gB2RndInEg10l6b2QffwffJHwt07Xg8hyphenhyphencBIO5GGXf79rIaEj9SVo4uGBippo6aLxaoIlScfO3HX9I/s1600/Flowers-Buds+-+7-3-10+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvAwM_EMmnKvnUR07tm-tNqAikviTdjXE66lzfrlgSxs4UkoaXHDj4W7yblLQ2gB2RndInEg10l6b2QffwffJHwt07Xg8hyphenhyphencBIO5GGXf79rIaEj9SVo4uGBippo6aLxaoIlScfO3HX9I/s320/Flowers-Buds+-+7-3-10+002.jpg" width="213" /></a>Waiting. I don't think I'll ever be very good at it. For me, it is one of the hardest parts of the writing profession. Not just waiting for any response ... waiting for a positive response! So, once again, I'm turning to the outdoors for a little lesson in enjoying and appreciating the wait. Granted, my garden provides a much more colorful and gratifying perspective on waiting than my e-mail in-box. Daily, there are beautiful berries needing to be monitored for ripeness; blossoms foreshadowing the tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers to come; and new blooms opening on the hydrangeas. It's easy to see that good things await ... and I'm certain that will be the case for the writing as well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizhYhFqOTEJg8-xchAxSUi1YCGKIkj2lqkwW4tOEEfjvwLRUfS4C9tFtNgIUN4-OUN4W-FGBTM0dnc1aNzRpwyyZnoJ7oCRI0scHVtBqOhbEqQpX2pDorHQ0MljIjYQqwANLNofJlkgkA/s1600/Garden+in+July+-+2014+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizhYhFqOTEJg8-xchAxSUi1YCGKIkj2lqkwW4tOEEfjvwLRUfS4C9tFtNgIUN4-OUN4W-FGBTM0dnc1aNzRpwyyZnoJ7oCRI0scHVtBqOhbEqQpX2pDorHQ0MljIjYQqwANLNofJlkgkA/s320/Garden+in+July+-+2014+011.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
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Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-9714542982802624612014-03-31T12:15:00.001-07:002014-03-31T12:22:28.048-07:00Disturb Us ...There are times when you hear something that is not necessarily directed just at you, it's shared with a wide audience and you happen to be a part of that audience, but it feels like it was spoken at just the right time and place so that you would hear it. <br />
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As I sat, listening to the below prayer by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, specifically the part about our dreams coming true because we dreamed too little or sailed too close the shore, I felt the message settling in. <br />
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It isn't that I've dreamed too little ... my dreams are pretty big. <br />
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It's that I need to take a different path to get to them, and I keep talking myself out of it ... convincing myself I'll likely fail or the potential financial impact will be too great or I won't have the time I need to make it work. The reasons rotate based on the day ... maybe even the hour. Regardless, they are the wrong reasons to keep close to shore where I feel safe.<br />
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It's exactly what I needed to hear.<br />
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I think ... :-)<br />
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<strong>Disturb Us, O Lord</strong></h2>
(This prayer is attributed to Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu adapted from an original prayer by Sir Francis Drake)<br />
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<strong>Disturb us, O Lord</strong><br />
<strong>when we are too well-pleased with ourselves, </strong><br />
<strong>when our dreams have come true because we dreamed too little, </strong><br />
<strong>because we sailed too close to the shore.</strong><br />
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<strong>Disturb us, O Lord</strong><br />
<strong>when with the abundance of things we possess, </strong><br />
<strong>we have lost our thirst for the water of life </strong> <strong>when, </strong><br />
<strong>having fallen in love with time, </strong><br />
<strong>we have ceased to dream of eternity</strong><br />
<strong>and in our efforts to build a new earth,</strong><br />
<strong>we have allowed our vision of Heaven to grow dim.</strong><br />
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<strong>Stir us, O Lord</strong><br />
<strong>to dare more boldly,</strong><br />
<strong>to venture into wider seas </strong> <strong>where storms show </strong><strong>Thy mastery,</strong><br />
<strong>where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars.</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<strong>In the name of Him who pushed back the horizons of our hopes </strong><br />
<strong>and invited the brave to follow.</strong><br />
<strong>Amen</strong>Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-87978738310461717422014-03-03T11:45:00.000-08:002014-03-03T11:46:44.865-08:00Dr. Seuss Quotes to Change Your LifeI came across this wonderful infographic by www.mamiverse.com and - in honor of Dr. Seuss's birthday and Read Across America day - had to share it! My absolute favorite is #11 ... it's a keeper, and one to be passed along to my children!<br />
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Which one is your favorite? (You don't have to pick just one! :-)).<br />
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<br />Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-41496790715318327762013-07-15T18:01:00.003-07:002013-07-15T18:01:59.761-07:00The Candy Man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0-hYx0bwE2klzSKy4X_MV_aQRR3w6TnZsbP8nxtQAIFp9TyxG42uhGbTlkY3zxiMSwagQ7a8K3KiBwL9zZ8osIAYxMVgPL8pv6z5zdgPjJtjUFg032ZxNtyaqNR3_Cv0f10YNe00iD0/s1600/Butterscotch+Discs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0-hYx0bwE2klzSKy4X_MV_aQRR3w6TnZsbP8nxtQAIFp9TyxG42uhGbTlkY3zxiMSwagQ7a8K3KiBwL9zZ8osIAYxMVgPL8pv6z5zdgPjJtjUFg032ZxNtyaqNR3_Cv0f10YNe00iD0/s1600/Butterscotch+Discs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0-hYx0bwE2klzSKy4X_MV_aQRR3w6TnZsbP8nxtQAIFp9TyxG42uhGbTlkY3zxiMSwagQ7a8K3KiBwL9zZ8osIAYxMVgPL8pv6z5zdgPjJtjUFg032ZxNtyaqNR3_Cv0f10YNe00iD0/s320/Butterscotch+Discs.jpg" width="320" /></a>The first time I met Sam, I was in the midst of my strength training routine. As I strained and sweated to lift the weights just a few more times, he came around the corner and – extending an old-fashioned doctor’s bag toward me – said brightly, “Would you like a piece of candy?”<br />
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I stopped what I was doing and peered into the open pouch on the side of his bag to find a multihued assortment of hard candies. I smiled and asked, "Are there butterscotch discs in there?”<br />
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“Oh, yes … I’ve got those,” he said with confidence as he dug his hand into the bag and plucked out a golden disc.<br />
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“Thank you!” I said, with the giddiness of a child surveying her haul on Halloween night.<br />
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He turned to leave, then stopped and glanced at the weights I was using, “You know those come in lighter versions.”<br />
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I laughed.<br />
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I soon learned his very appropriate nickname - <em>Sam the Candy Man</em>. I also learned what a treat it is to watch him work the room of fellow ‘Silver Sneakers’ exercise classmates, offering them candy and bringing joy to their faces.<br />
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Outgoing and jovial, his response to the question “How are you, Sam?” is – with 99.9 percent certainty – always a hearty “Super Darn Whoppin’!” And, as if he has planned it because he knows I love them, there is always a butterscotch disc sitting atop the array of sweets when he extends his bag to me.<br />
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I do realize there are a couple rules being broken with this story. The first time I was approached by Sam, I did – in fact – take candy from a stranger. The very opposite of the rule we drill into our children’s brains.<br />
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Second, the candy is being distributed and accepted at a fitness club where, it seems, most people would be working to thwart the effects of such sweet temptations.<br />
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But, these broken rules are countered by the simple happiness and feeling of camaraderie his smile, his kind greeting, and his sharing of a small piece of candy bring to my day.<br />
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Recently, Sam was wearing a shirt with the caption “<strong>SAM-tastic</strong>!” splashed across the front. I wholeheartedly agree. And, to that I would add “Sweet”. Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-29037907796527924402013-04-18T10:51:00.003-07:002013-04-18T10:55:47.546-07:00Choose Kind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
If you and your 5th grade and up child(ren) have not yet read R.J. Palacio's "Wonder" ... do it! It is phenomenal (and the author's FIRST book - - yow!)! </div>
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Then, click on the below 'Choose Kind' badge below and join the national movement to 'Choose Kind', proving that each and every act of kindness can make a difference!</div>
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<a href="http://choosekind.tumblr.com/"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg06BzpKvJFXoO5wkFRDvT1U4TxJ65A0PZYAzk5PpsUbALrO7Qlnh2VFqGtj2DJSuqJK_XPa3mfobLEEKBNq3vRWq2FyFjLa3zkbEvMlYrylGkb1RELIhGQExRjJH1CZS9_E063RyHPJTo/s1600/Choose+Kind+-+Wonder+-+badge_large-2.png" /></a></div>
<br />Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-42185064739111935002013-04-09T12:18:00.001-07:002013-04-09T12:23:20.018-07:00Unplug!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2ELkqzWQszRPmNdtWCRgHzhTvsD26i4hRc6A0rE-qCNyjXQ3HN6l0hsW5I6YtmiZ-Kzpr9PaZeRsUey7wVXnauwPFAMdZeJJfJDCMP_5pWHWLHPOYsP4tZu9oNO5y0SH4v-XsiN_YuI/s1600/Unplugged.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2ELkqzWQszRPmNdtWCRgHzhTvsD26i4hRc6A0rE-qCNyjXQ3HN6l0hsW5I6YtmiZ-Kzpr9PaZeRsUey7wVXnauwPFAMdZeJJfJDCMP_5pWHWLHPOYsP4tZu9oNO5y0SH4v-XsiN_YuI/s320/Unplugged.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Put it on your calendars ... Screen Free Week is coming - April 29 - May 5! Click the link below and enjoy the video!<br />
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<a href="http://youtu.be/nsbhj6_ha94" rel="" target="">Random House Children's Books Unplugs!</a></div>
Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-17606658929501933462013-03-14T09:44:00.001-07:002013-03-14T09:47:23.175-07:00The Luck of the Irish<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In honor of St. Patrick's Day ... a re-posting of one of my favorite stories. Enjoy! :-)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6um6HRUqjZ-9yVLX5l-QDePTLRgqmfA3JfZanq32ueIUCKgRRe53MQ-w8FWCuK1Onw63vkQEh7qyH5E_yETLDjUVt3EznTZju8ohRO1M6JFUZPYnWCrdIXLwVASGDyJOTvyPzv8vc7c8/s1600/Four+Leaf+Clover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6um6HRUqjZ-9yVLX5l-QDePTLRgqmfA3JfZanq32ueIUCKgRRe53MQ-w8FWCuK1Onw63vkQEh7qyH5E_yETLDjUVt3EznTZju8ohRO1M6JFUZPYnWCrdIXLwVASGDyJOTvyPzv8vc7c8/s320/Four+Leaf+Clover.jpg" width="226" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I was standing in line at the post office when I heard, “And how long are you going to be?” I looked behind me to see an older man, possibly in his sixties, with an unwavering face and twinkling eyes that just screamed of dry humor and wit. I smiled and laughed, noting that I just had the one box and would make it fast.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I didn’t expect the conversation to continue. Thankfully, it did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“My wife has me mailing these birthday cards to Ireland,” he continued gruffly. “We’re always sending things over there.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Being a travel fanatic, I was intrigued. “Ireland, huh,” I responded, “I’ve never been there, but it’s on my list of places I want to visit.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Oh, we’ve been there many times … at least a couple dozen,” he said. “Both of our families are from there, and many are still living there.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Really?” I asked, “Is that where you met?”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Oh no …”, he chuckled. “I was an auctioneer. Traveled all over the place. One day, I received a call from a rancher in central Oregon. I was to come pick up some items that would then be auctioned. That’s when I met her.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“At the ranch?” I asked, amazed at such a chance meeting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Yep … she was the rancher’s daughter. That was thirty-some odd years ago … and things have been going downhill ever since,” he added with a sly grin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Well … it couldn’t be too bad if you’ve been together for thirty-some years!” I countered with a smile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Well, she was quite the successful businesswoman. I couldn’t give that up,” he said with the dry wit that had become the trademark of our short conversation. He then went on to explain that she had owned several thriving businesses – including a clothing shop and a salon – in the very complex we were standing in. “Back in the day, there would be a line of people waiting to get into her salon,” he added with a hint of pride.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I glanced at the service counter where, fortunately, the customers in front of me were having some sort of difficulty with their mailing progress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I can’t believe both of you are from Ireland, and you ended up meeting on a ranch out in the middle of central Oregon,” I added.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It was then that he told me that on one of their first trips back to Ireland as a couple, they decided to check into each of their family histories. Through their research, they discovered that their grandparents had been from the exact same small town in Ireland. His had owned a hardware store; hers had owned a grocery store. They traveled to that little town and discovered that – even to that day - his family’s original hardware store and her family’s original grocery store sat on the very same street, right next door to each other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Wow,” I said with all the eloquence of a rock. “That is absolutely amazing … a marriage meant to be.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The customers at the counter retreated and it was my turn.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I mailed my package and turned, intending to smile and convey wishes for a good day with this man who had shared his wonderful story with me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He was nowhere to be seen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I couldn't help but smile. ‘A marriage made in heaven’ came to mind. Yes, definitely that … sprinkled with a little ‘Luck of the Irish’, had clearly brought these two individuals together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My potentially-tedious trip to the post office was made special, with a beautiful and unexpected story of providence usually saved just for the kids and grandkids. It made this German-Irish girl feel a little lucky too!</span>Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-23872778353616993922013-03-05T19:27:00.001-08:002013-03-05T19:28:54.772-08:00A Seuss-tacular Day!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">What's better than Read Across America Day combined with</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">a Scholastic book fair combined with</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">a celebration of Dr. Seuss's birthday</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">combined with Grandparents' Day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">celebrated by having</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">visiting readers in the classrooms and</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">grandparents enjoying a concert put on by the children</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">plus a special lunch</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">plus 'Seussville' set up in the gym, complete with</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">games and candy ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">plus more Cat in the Hat-themed treats in the classroom?!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Not much!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">It definitely made for a fabulous Friday</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">and fun start to the weekend!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCqzY1ZxG_g7AsBoIj0qCggjWWDjNRPf4LOxttlqyfO0HoxfzJ0K-m3NaF1MzuZSvGDBKdBEubI8aA_rPcMRCjtHOHqFN_7MDB9L5Qeym29S4SiTYcpUUOvf9Q_qtXcCiyLT2aAi94IA/s1600/NCCS+Seussville+Grandparents+Day+-+Cinema+-+3-1-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDCqzY1ZxG_g7AsBoIj0qCggjWWDjNRPf4LOxttlqyfO0HoxfzJ0K-m3NaF1MzuZSvGDBKdBEubI8aA_rPcMRCjtHOHqFN_7MDB9L5Qeym29S4SiTYcpUUOvf9Q_qtXcCiyLT2aAi94IA/s320/NCCS+Seussville+Grandparents+Day+-+Cinema+-+3-1-13.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-69624490803680860362013-02-27T14:23:00.001-08:002013-03-05T19:29:51.665-08:00Taking the Scenic Route ...<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Today, I'm remembering this quote ...</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjihoAz0q5CCumN-Yo-itjbwMo2H7wc2yAMbAKRu7RuvUSC6TvESsTyoUH73B2KlsSnJn6d-uVVf5OW7PWYJf6plpg7GudI1FP_V3QeF8BNuQgBxfQ5ZMwDgzkzOnS9LQEOT7_xVMqZc/s1600/ME+Artwork+and+Proverb+-+3--2009+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjihoAz0q5CCumN-Yo-itjbwMo2H7wc2yAMbAKRu7RuvUSC6TvESsTyoUH73B2KlsSnJn6d-uVVf5OW7PWYJf6plpg7GudI1FP_V3QeF8BNuQgBxfQ5ZMwDgzkzOnS9LQEOT7_xVMqZc/s320/ME+Artwork+and+Proverb+-+3--2009+004.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank you, Mary Engelbreit, for the artwork.</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">In the corporate world, I met my goals in a very linear fashion ... working hard & smart, thinking before speaking, being fair, having a positive attitude, showing dedication, and maybe a bit of luck and good timing all amounted to promotions that had me climbing the ladder at a very snappy pace. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The road to becoming a published author has been, well ... much more circuitous, requiring many lessons in patience and a constant pick-yourself-up-again perseverance. It has been filled with wonderfully uplifting feedback, close calls, and so much knowledge gained, but the time and place has just never been exactly right. It will be (hopefully soon!), but - in the mean time - I'll keep reminding myself that this meandering journey is my 'scenic route' to the reward! <o:p></o:p></span></span>Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-69302320707946463192013-02-12T11:43:00.000-08:002013-03-05T11:19:27.985-08:00Happy Plate Guy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg25m0uHUTUXeIZf3HOT270RP2DETqHSB319mhrfvzmPrVh_KDrLrP7kRMfhS9aFM5PS5Vgs_Xj505-um3LEUBVRGibr_bhJ6pD09yCAUw0SQkG2C7P3C4ZGUwNLrBiAOSSGUBxUKO1jQ/s1600/Happy+Plate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg25m0uHUTUXeIZf3HOT270RP2DETqHSB319mhrfvzmPrVh_KDrLrP7kRMfhS9aFM5PS5Vgs_Xj505-um3LEUBVRGibr_bhJ6pD09yCAUw0SQkG2C7P3C4ZGUwNLrBiAOSSGUBxUKO1jQ/s320/Happy+Plate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Long ago, back in the day when I was
still participating in the grueling world of dating, my very dear friend was rushed to the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I headed to the
hospital the minute I received the call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point, when a doctor came in to check on her, I decided to leave her room to give her some privacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">That was my first
mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I should have insisted on staying
through whatever it was that prompted me to leave!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But no … I was polite and ushered myself to
the waiting area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was late evening, and
the waiting room was quiet and empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Except for a hospital employee dressed in scrubs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember thinking that he was cute … and
had nice hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, I have to admit I
wasn’t terribly disappointed when he started chatting with me … then flirting …
and eventually asked me out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I agreed to the invitation. That was my second mistake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">From what I had seen and
heard that evening at the hospital, I pegged him to be the rugged, four-wheel
drive driving, sporty type of guy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">So, imagine my surprise when,
upon walking out to his car on our infamous first (and last) date night, I saw
a large, dull-butterscotch-colored, 4-door, boat-like sedan … plastered with
political bumper stickers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>P-L-A-S-T-E-R-E-D!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">As my eyes quickly scanned
the myriad of opinions shared via the bumper stickers, everything in me wanted
to turn and run!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided to give him a
chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First impressions can be so
misleading (by the way … they can also be right!).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Mistake #3 …
giving him a chance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">As we drove to the
restaurant, talk radio twittering away in the background, he regaled me with
all the reasons music radio was bad-bad-bad, along with all the brain-related
benefits of talk radio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A topic that bored
my early twenty-something self to tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I began creating escape plans
in my head. He continued to chatter about talk radio, as I attempted to figure
out the logistics of opening the car door and performing some spectacular maneuver that
would effectively and safely fling me from the car, allowing me to land
safely on the freeway and quickly escape from being run over by the hundreds of
other 60-mile-per-hour-moving cars on the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After all, I reasoned, I’d landed safely after parachuting out of a
plane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How hard could it be to apply the
emergency-landing drop and roll movement I’d been taught to an escape from a
moving car?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I stayed in
the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">We arrived at Red Robin,
ordered, and attempted to make conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As the food on our plates dwindled, he decided it would be a good idea
to order dessert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Red Robin had one of
my favorite desserts - apple crisp - so, I folded and ordered along with
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">That was when he looked at
me, then my plate, then up at me again, and asked, “Aren’t you going to make
your plate happy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“Hmmmm?” I questioned, not
certain I’d heard him correctly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“If you want dessert, you need
to eat all the food on your plate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
need to make your plate a Happy Plate,” he matter-of-factly explained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">“You know … I’m getting a
little bit full.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I’ll take the
rest to-go,” I replied carefully, not wanted to ruffle any last vestiges of his
sanity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all … I still needed to
get home safely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Mistake # …. well, I’ve lost
count … anyway, that would be letting him drive me to the date location.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Dessert arrived, thank
goodness, and I dove into my haven of apple crisp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, once again, I quickly got full and had
to stop eating before finishing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hoped
and prayed that he wouldn’t notice my very unhappy plate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually, it was a bowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With deep sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I thought there might be a chance that he
wouldn’t see the remnants of apple crisp still sitting inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Of course, he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, this time, he went a step further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After confirming that I was not, in fact,
going to be personally making my bowl happy, he took the bowl, spooned what he
could of the remaining crisp, and then LICKED the bowl clean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">At that point, I remember my
shoulders slumping a bit, as I looked around to see if anyone I knew was in the
restaurant and watching this whole pitiful story play itself out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I turned to my date, and watched him
blissfully finish licking the bowl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“There,” he proudly stated, “now it’s happy!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Unlike me … who was quite the
opposite of happy, and just wanted to get home.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">But, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As luck would have it, a Halloween store had
opened up in the same complex as Red Robin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not a nice home décor-type Halloween store, with stylish pumpkins and
cute decorative ghosts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, the freaky Halloween
store, with gory masks and fake blood and cackling voices and grotesque
creatures hanging from the walls and ceiling … and that stale, funky smell of
I-don’t-know-what.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">He was ecstatic over the
discovery of this store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Me … not so
much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surprise, surprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, being a nice person and a tad concerned
about his mental state, I went along with it … walking with him through the
store and feigning amusement and delight over the Goth and gore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Thankfully, the evening ended
with me safely arriving back home, sharing a kind thank-you and goodbye, then
quickly high-tailing it to my apartment where I promptly locked the door and
ran to the window, peeking through the blinds to ensure his car had driven
away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">My worst date ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, definitely a memorable and humorous one.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">So, thank you, Happy Plate
Guy – wherever you are … and, please, stay where you are – for giving me such
an unusual, unique, implausible, and – in hindsight – amusing experience.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Seriously, though ... stay.where.you.are.</span> </span></div>
Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-46195639407888788272013-01-23T14:14:00.000-08:002015-11-03T13:48:36.341-08:00Come Back, White Witch ...I'm pretty sure this lovely (and very scary) lady in white might be responsible for the full week of wintery whiteness we just had in our town.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvwzmXEc_B_K3z-B227MbvDAUf1Ji40lDju26H9_FKzBas9vfeprZDgm1BCysgcMS8GqzVHGO75n1lutixpRQG0a_EY6pqE-1PWd8uUxAu5P5mVfnj2PNYuUNsekk-wsrh3YKzMBFQHc/s1600/Keiya+w-White+Witch+of+OCT+Lion+Witch+Wardrobe+-+1-19-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvwzmXEc_B_K3z-B227MbvDAUf1Ji40lDju26H9_FKzBas9vfeprZDgm1BCysgcMS8GqzVHGO75n1lutixpRQG0a_EY6pqE-1PWd8uUxAu5P5mVfnj2PNYuUNsekk-wsrh3YKzMBFQHc/s320/Keiya+w-White+Witch+of+OCT+Lion+Witch+Wardrobe+-+1-19-13.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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We were encased in fog and sub-30 temps for days, with the trees completely coated in white frost. Gorgeous! A little winter wonderland. <br />
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Head a few miles down the hill, and we'd discover blue, sunny skies and temps that were a few degrees warmer. <br />
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It just so happened that - in the midst of all this wintery whiteness - we saw the Oregon Children's Theatre's production of 'The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe'. It was like our little city was Narnia ... minus the Turkish Delights. <br />
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The actress playing the White Witch did her job well ... scaring the bejeezus out of our poor daughter. I felt so bad. She was a year+ above the recommended minimum age, but I had to peel her off my arm at the end. She's used to Playhouse Disney and OPB ... not Narnia! :-) It was only because the friendly actress suggested the above picture that K got anywhere close to her! <br />
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Today, it's gray and rainy outside ... and I want our winter wonderland back! :-) Oh, White Witch ... where are you?! You can bring the whiteness back ... but maybe leave your evil scariness at the castle. :-)Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-44207207726006772762013-01-17T13:08:00.000-08:002013-01-17T13:09:27.774-08:00Basic Kindness ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had to share this video, after seeing it on the <a href="http://carrotsncake.com/">Carrots 'n' Cake blog</a>. Adorable and so very sweet ... it immediately warmed my heart. But, it also made me think about the basic kindness being demonstrated in this video ... by a dog! <br />
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Using no words (obviously!), just actions, the older dog communicates to the puppy how to go down the stairs, showing her that it is safe and patiently giving encouraging nudges until the puppy finally does it on her own.<br />
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Not one word uttered. Just kind actions.<br />
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What a wonderful reminder that we can do the same, so easily, every day. We don't have to say a word. Just be kind.<br />
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Have a wonderful day.Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-15341848958610178272012-11-28T14:18:00.001-08:002012-11-28T14:18:52.455-08:00I Heard the Bells ...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1M_8E_oG_GxngXVUZ6ZJNUPPw3ojXEjZVeNQ5FxDOdHezMjRXGiuAZ3pWcbt_rD93LXeqm45p3KSqIeJNIBPYMggBKV_Xsp4Yx67RPrbcULNesKmmNtMj3mSJwxkhKI3ERB6bEDt2Qsg/s1600/Christmas+Tree+Ornaments+-+12-12-08+004.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545504441530134386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1M_8E_oG_GxngXVUZ6ZJNUPPw3ojXEjZVeNQ5FxDOdHezMjRXGiuAZ3pWcbt_rD93LXeqm45p3KSqIeJNIBPYMggBKV_Xsp4Yx67RPrbcULNesKmmNtMj3mSJwxkhKI3ERB6bEDt2Qsg/s400/Christmas+Tree+Ornaments+-+12-12-08+004.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 344px;" /></a>Five years ago, my husband and I attended an amazing Christmas concert with Steven Curtis Chapman and Mercy Me. During the concert, as a deep base beat and the melody to "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" played ever-so-softly in the background, they shared with the audience a glimpse of the events that had inspired the lyrics to this song, written by American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow so very long ago on Christmas Day in 1864.<br />
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I was completely unaware of the origin of the song before that night. </div>
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After the concert, I investigated further, seeking more detail to the story. I learned that, in a very short time span, Longfellow had lost his wife to a tragic accident in their home, and his son had returned - critically injured - from the American Civil War that was devastating his beloved country. </div>
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I can only imagine that his faith was being tested beyond measure and his hope for peace - in his country and his own life - was weak.<br />
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Something changed on Christmas Day 1864 when Longfellow penned the poem, originally titled "Christmas Bells". Maybe it was the re-election of Abraham Lincoln and, with that, the possible end of the terrible war; maybe it was the relief that came from his son surviving; or maybe it was the churches that - during the war - would ring their bells on Christmas as a call for ceasefire, bringing peace to the nation, if only for a day.</div>
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Knowing the history behind the words has made this song become even more beautiful, sorrowful, haunting, and hopeful. </div>
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In many ways, it is a call for peace. Something we all hope for.</div>
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So, as the holiday season kicks off, I've been listening repeatedly to this very song .... take a listen to the Casting Crowns version, from their 'Peace on Earth' CD at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7670CXvPX0&feature=related"><span style="color: #9999ff;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M7670CXvPX0&feature=related</span></a>.</div>
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Wishing you peace this holiday season!</div>
Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-70201587040402709472012-11-15T14:01:00.000-08:002012-11-15T14:01:37.064-08:00Way Too Long ...Oh my goodness, it has been way too long since my last post. Trees were bare of leaves when I last posted in February .... oh, wait ... they're bare again! Well ... not ours. Here's the view from my office window (sorry for the 'through the screen' photo). See our tree to the left ... completely green! Across the street, you see one neighbor with a tree completely void of leaves, and the other with gorgeous red fall color! Ours will start turning yellow soon ... and we'll be done raking leaves sometime near Christmas! :-) Happens every year ... we have a tree with a schedule all its own! <br />
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Life has definitely happened this year ... some things expected, and some very unexpected. Ups and downs. Our always-healthy son having hernia surgery; my mother's passing after a long, brave battle with breast cancer; me completing the Komen 3 Day/60 Mile event, in memory of my mom, with a meniscus torn just two weeks before the event; knee surgery and recovery after the event was over; closing a business ...<br />
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Every so often, when I look back over the year, I've let myself think, 'I'm ready for 2012 to be over ...'. But, just as quickly, I reverse that thought when I simultaneously recall all the wonderful things that have happened ... and remember that this has also been a very special year. One that has filled me with gratitude for how wonderful our friends are and what a sweet and loving little family I've been given. Supportive ... caring ... helpful ... generous ... thoughtful ... these words don't even begin to describe what I've learned about the people I've been blessed to have around me.<br />
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So, I will savor the last six weeks of 2012, and look forward to a wonderful 2013 ... which hopefully will include a published picture book and MUCH more regular blog posts! :-)Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-42069759188828497002012-02-09T14:01:00.000-08:002012-02-09T14:01:36.706-08:00In the Words of a 9-Year Old Boy ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizY0IjzbvhYX3lNMXY2FXw1i2kc77dBqzIKfPHYR360C9oYejME40UevA4KYrNwc02R2LDXpbCtXcCTxqrdQa3AG5EKJHz4c3CRJ9lusvIkZtTz6q8kyM2CKofnIYKf-liY9JE0BcmtF0/s1600/B's+Artwork+-+Xmas+Gift+-+12-2011+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizY0IjzbvhYX3lNMXY2FXw1i2kc77dBqzIKfPHYR360C9oYejME40UevA4KYrNwc02R2LDXpbCtXcCTxqrdQa3AG5EKJHz4c3CRJ9lusvIkZtTz6q8kyM2CKofnIYKf-liY9JE0BcmtF0/s400/B's+Artwork+-+Xmas+Gift+-+12-2011+002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Sure, it's more complicated than this. But, when I ran across this gem the other day while re-reading and recycling Christmas cards and school projects, I couldn't help but think what a peaceful, fun-loving world it might be if children were in charge! :-) Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-45982860201156038682011-10-04T12:36:00.000-07:002011-10-04T12:38:40.754-07:00I'm With You ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/NHZZyNGvOVY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Have you heard this song? "I'm With You", sung by Nichole Nordeman and Amy Grant is one of those songs that just latch right on to your heart. Based on the Bible story of Ruth and Naomi, it is a beautiful combination of lyrics, music, and pacing.<br />
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Ruth happens to be one of my favorite books in the Bible. First, it's so short (4 chapters!), I can actually say I've read it from start to finish :-); and second, it depicts the story of two strong, independent, brave women who have lost everything (and, yes, one of them becomes very bitter for a while as a result), but work together to put the pieces of their lives back together in the face of great adversity.<br />
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It is the story of hope and trusting in the support of family and friends. <br />
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And, isn't that what we all strive for ... to be hopeful in the face of challenges, big and small? To be a supportive friend and family member? And, to know we have family and friends that we can rely on when we need it?Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-14636690630684576362011-08-23T16:19:00.000-07:002011-08-23T21:42:11.085-07:00Kairos...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtJRutRCEWsq_MoOV4OTbJTlp6NNTxk4_9EEomDtbAygCQ_jWddCPhZURk6r4Roj2q-T-h98UDT-_B_5J7ajZYTD0p9Yhd9nj__CE685l1rlB2a3bmu6mniv6ZTJUovaR5Vbrw1aXQTfM/s1600/Prague+Clock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtJRutRCEWsq_MoOV4OTbJTlp6NNTxk4_9EEomDtbAygCQ_jWddCPhZURk6r4Roj2q-T-h98UDT-_B_5J7ajZYTD0p9Yhd9nj__CE685l1rlB2a3bmu6mniv6ZTJUovaR5Vbrw1aXQTfM/s320/Prague+Clock.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Have you heard of Amy Krouse Rosenthal? She's one of my writing heroes ... she writes brilliant, unique children's book and entertaining adult books, AND has an inspiring and uplifting blog .... <a href="http://www.wbez.org/blog/mission-amy-kr/2011-08-18/thursday-thingy-kairos-and-chronos-90782#comment-33821">Mission Amy KR</a>. Her most recent Thursday Thingy blog was titled, "Kairos and Chronos" (click on Mission Amy KR and it will connect you). When I first saw it, my mind immediately went to my work in Human Resources and Payroll. KRONOS was our timekeeping system for non-exempt employees ... simply because of that, I knew of the word and its Greek origin .... basically meaning 'chronological time'. But what was this 'Kairos'? <br />
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As you'll see if you read the post, it is also the Greek word for time ... but very different than Chronos time. Kairos time is special ... literally. It is the time in which something special happens. It's different for every person, depending on what is special to you, and you often don't recognize when you're in the midst of it. <br />
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In the blog post, Amy references another writer, and what she wrote - specifically with regard to a child wanting her mother to just stop and look at her - made me catch my breath.<br />
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We live in a world where, it seems, it is important to show how busy we are. Someone asks us, "How have you been?" We reply, "Oh, so busy!" Our attention is divided ... we are working, raising children, blogging, Facebooking, e-mailing, texting, trying to meet deadlines, attempting to get to practice on time, and the list goes on. <br />
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But, are we experiencing the Kairos version of time? Are we giving our children the Kairos version of time? For me ... sometimes, yes; sometimes, no. It is a great reminder for me personally ... to not just live each day hoping to check all the 'to do' items off my list, but remember to stop and experience all that is beautiful and special in life. So much so, that it becomes a natural part of me. Living the width of each day as much as the length.Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-29492768797408261822011-08-02T15:28:00.000-07:002011-08-02T15:29:45.068-07:00Good Things Come to Those Who Wait ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Waiting. I don't think I'll ever be very good at it. For me, it is one of the hardest parts of the writing profession. Not just waiting for any response ... waiting for a positive response! So, once again, I'm turning to the outdoors for a little lesson in enjoying and appreciating the wait. Granted, my garden provides a much more colorful and gratifying perspective on waiting than my e-mail in-box and mailbox. Daily, there are beautiful berries needing to be monitored for ripeness; tomatoes, corn, peppers, and cukes sprouting from blossoms; and new blooms opening on the hydrangeas. It's easy to see that good things await ... and I'm certain that will be the case for the writing as well.</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmZpnRXicVzB5YR7rr0yuPDnIhQ_Lc3VVrR4D2MMkSBF1GAPv5rqnQznF253PvXi5A7Xr9jfccELe6P1ubWPLUrXeVIXWK6E9Ai5QWA63yShtP-5R0DOaZyp2fOUiLLSTn_aFwEjtzHY/s1600/Flowers-Buds+-+7-3-10+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidmZpnRXicVzB5YR7rr0yuPDnIhQ_Lc3VVrR4D2MMkSBF1GAPv5rqnQznF253PvXi5A7Xr9jfccELe6P1ubWPLUrXeVIXWK6E9Ai5QWA63yShtP-5R0DOaZyp2fOUiLLSTn_aFwEjtzHY/s320/Flowers-Buds+-+7-3-10+001.jpg" t$="true" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1oVdrwUt8psRi94UJ8qKPUXODq9__3evHfC6TWlz9CzMGTMluYayf9VtTP1DcXtZp-OaKEa5t1V3x5BCT9SKKRKia8TGgvcKEDOfNgRFGZKZV7OYUqUg3XRORjOqb1_SEInli9S_e_ik/s1600/Cannon+Beach+-+7-22%252623%252624-2011+083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1oVdrwUt8psRi94UJ8qKPUXODq9__3evHfC6TWlz9CzMGTMluYayf9VtTP1DcXtZp-OaKEa5t1V3x5BCT9SKKRKia8TGgvcKEDOfNgRFGZKZV7OYUqUg3XRORjOqb1_SEInli9S_e_ik/s320/Cannon+Beach+-+7-22%252623%252624-2011+083.jpg" t$="true" width="320px" /></a></div>Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-42316901183072435802011-07-14T14:42:00.000-07:002011-07-14T14:42:36.977-07:00Summer Inspiration ... Kid Style!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHDCbfkDtwT3ZJUvOZdRhIiU4MWjaO-cODYGYlKZtYazg8hnuyCNO5OtW370tOzzVf10G6wqxpa2hfCszhhUlLAJ8bgMG3Wkd4KEAe_SHkvYzczvV8KT_gppqFyLVEeubjhIq8Xx7iAA/s1600/Summer+Inspiration+-+KidStyle+-+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHDCbfkDtwT3ZJUvOZdRhIiU4MWjaO-cODYGYlKZtYazg8hnuyCNO5OtW370tOzzVf10G6wqxpa2hfCszhhUlLAJ8bgMG3Wkd4KEAe_SHkvYzczvV8KT_gppqFyLVEeubjhIq8Xx7iAA/s400/Summer+Inspiration+-+KidStyle+-+2011.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Every so often, they hop off their bikes and scooters, or take a break from playing basketball or flag football, and impress me with their creative side. Whether it's a city of roadways and parking lots made with just chalk and Hot Wheels; a tea party, complete with miniature utensils; a "special breakfast" served on a doll highchair tray; a bouquet of blooms collected from the ground (or, sometimes, from the plant itself! :-)); or a colorful PlayDoh "cake" ... it's a great reminder to me to keep creating characters and writing stories (and not be afraid of NOT creating perfection on the first try!).</div>Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-11900531795931902712011-07-12T16:37:00.000-07:002011-07-12T16:39:00.379-07:00It Was Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuagGod4JMi61K2JRnsxcSA1-cG2Zt_N7az3GqrogJUDT-KowTPcqkGswHPRhvKjkP3MV-F7aWbqfY6jIcQQX1ruZINDH0POzlIwAzF85Z8J_1hFL1NwCfNfKJzoveaLCpYjmxv8YN3Ac/s1600/Mary+Poppins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuagGod4JMi61K2JRnsxcSA1-cG2Zt_N7az3GqrogJUDT-KowTPcqkGswHPRhvKjkP3MV-F7aWbqfY6jIcQQX1ruZINDH0POzlIwAzF85Z8J_1hFL1NwCfNfKJzoveaLCpYjmxv8YN3Ac/s1600/Mary+Poppins.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I'm quite certain I was even more excited than my children that we were going to see the musical, Mary Poppins. They had never heard of Mary Poppins, nor were they familiar with any of the famous songs. Given that the show we attended was on a weeknight and <u>started</u> an hour before their bedtime, I was banking on the hope that it would be an energetic and awe-inspiring performance.<br />
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And, oh my, was it ever!<br />
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The cast of Mary Poppins is amazingly talented; and the special-effects and 'mechanics' of what's happening on the stage are mind-blowing!! What an incredible production! We were so happy we went ... and, thankfully, our 9-year old son and 5-year old daughter LOVED it and were entertained throughout the entire production (mostly! :-)).<br />
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Our favorite moment was the tap dance number, "Step In Time", by Mary Poppins & the Chimney Sweeps ... including Bert walking up the wall and tap-dancing (and singing) on the ceiling! Incredible. It made me want to learn how to tap dance.<br />
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The kids have been attempting to sing "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" ever since. Since it's a new word to them, it has been entertaining to hear the variations they come up with. :-)<br />
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If you have the chance to go see the Broadway Across America tour of Mary Poppins ... do it! And, enjoy! :-)Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1441276102534893267.post-11634327236776065692011-07-05T16:48:00.000-07:002011-07-05T16:48:30.212-07:00Remembering Grandpa ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2i-gEfJlhFUeZxG6J0iXLEmP0JIgf2SFxGxm30mLhOMopi9y2nVUB_AQKn6muczEYQLDM43CaQZKULG8RoMmqapYIO5DIeVWgUH0eLMYENfGrrMEWNKmmHcGeFvmWJWSd6x_qkAin6I/s1600/Everlie%2527s+Baptism+-+B%2526W+Crop+-+7-3-11+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2i-gEfJlhFUeZxG6J0iXLEmP0JIgf2SFxGxm30mLhOMopi9y2nVUB_AQKn6muczEYQLDM43CaQZKULG8RoMmqapYIO5DIeVWgUH0eLMYENfGrrMEWNKmmHcGeFvmWJWSd6x_qkAin6I/s400/Everlie%2527s+Baptism+-+B%2526W+Crop+-+7-3-11+024.jpg" width="318px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>This past weekend would have been the weekend that my little family traveled to my hometown to celebrate my Grandpa Don's July 1st birthday. His daughters, sons-in-law, granddaughters and grandsons and their spouses, and great-grandchildren had traveled from near and far every year since he turned 90 to celebrate his life. He would have been 95 years old this year. We lost him, rather unexpectedly, last September [<a href="http://crossyourts.blogspot.com/2010/09/for-my-grandpa.html">'For My Grandpa' Post</a>] and have missed him every day since.<br />
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This year, we thankfully had another reason to gather and celebrate on this very special weekend ... a reason that would have made my Grandpa Don so very happy. This time, though, the focus of the celebration was a sweet, little 4-month old girl. Grandpa Don never had the joy of meeting his youngest great-grandchild - oh, would he have beamed at the sight of her - but, she was baptized on what would have been his birthday weekend. Watching over us from heaven, I'm certain he was thrilled beyond measure.Kelly H-Yhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07324529762031928328noreply@blogger.com6