Quintessentially Quinn:

The other night Quinn, my two year old granddaughter made up a new game.  I call it Birthday Surprise, but I'm sure Quinn would call it Hap-py Birthday.

"Okay everybody (Erica, Bill and I) it's Circle Time," Quinn announces to us.  So we all sit in a circle on the floor of my bedroom.

Quinn gets up.  "Okay then is everybody ready?" she asked.  The three of us chorus "Ready!"

Quinn turns out the light, puts her finger on her lips and says "Be very quiet."  She goes to the door and reminds us all to be very quiet and then says, "Okay, I'll be right back."

In a moment she is back.  She flips on the light, throws both arms in the air and yells "Hap-py Birthday!"   She goes back and turns on the light  and the four of us throw our arms in the air and scream "Hap-py Birthday!"  The delighted look on her face seeing us do what she told us to do was priceless.

We played this game over and over and over.  The three of us laughed so hard.  At one point I was laughing so hard.  She points her finger at me after she turned on the light and says, "Gramma, you didn't do it."  I assure her that I would remember the next time and the game continued.  Bill forgot to raise his arms once and she points her finger at him and says, "No, Popi, you have to raise your arms," as she demonstrates once again.  Erica, however, was a model student so she never got a finger pointed at her.

It is amazing to me how many times she could repeat the same thing over and over  and never once  lose her enthusiasm and joy. A two year old laugh is definitely contagious.   This went on for an hour until Popi and Gramma could no longer sit on the floor and it was thankfully her bedtime.

Third Anniversay

August 13, 2007. I started the day in a huge jacuzzi tub in Las Vegas. The evening already knew what the morning couldn't even imagine. At 5 o'clock a limo came and took us to the Chapel, and then took us to the courthouse, then back to the chapel. William Robert Stephenson and Carol Ruth Holbrook were married. The limo took us to the restaurant, where they treated us so royally. I felt like a movie star. The owner even came to our table with champagne to toast our new marriage. We took a cab back to the hotel. Flash forward now three years. We went out to dinner. He even said I could take a picture, but of all times, I didn't have my camera. We exchanged cards. His said To the Woman I'll Always Love. Mine On Our Anniversary. It had other better sentiments. I opened his card and there was a little piece of paper. It took me several seconds to realize my husband had written me a love poem! Instantly tears sprang to my eyes. My husband writes poetry. It is usually existential, thought provoking, profoundly aiming at some spiritual truth. But a poem for me, this is the first.

When We've Kissed by Bill Stephenson to Carol August 13, 2010

"When we've kissed,

New life breathes into me,

And I feel the hope of a new beginning.

When we've kissed,

She then holds me and looks into my eyes,

And I feel my life becoming stronger.

Fear has no place in my heart.

I look to the now with confidence

And no longer feel controlled by regrets.

When we've kissed,

I feel myself giving to the adventure

Of a love that will never let me go.

Wow! And I fall in love with this man who is my husband all over again.

We come home and watch a movie on our new flat screen TV after a few frustrating moments of getting it to work and having the Geek squad talk us through it over the phone. It's the start of a beautiful romantic evening I will refer to as our "couple time."We even watched the video of our wedding. What a wonderful 3rd anniversary! I feel wonderfully loved and happily content to be in this here and now.

Random thoughts now that I have summer time to remember....

Random thoughts now that I have summer time to remember....

It's summer and my mind really has time to wander, but that's what summer is for.

Prayer: I am a praying woman. When I can't sleep, I pray for whomever and whatever God puts on my heart. Family and friends usually come to mind, but lately it's also been the dishwasher.

When we first got the dishwasher I was totally overjoyed. Each time I took out the clean dishes, that I didn't have to was first, I felt like I experienced a miracle. I could have totally been used on a commercial. Then, the soap started to not totally leave the soap dispenser... Called the repair man. It is under warranty. They have been out three times and a fourth time scheduled for Wednesday. I'm so sad. It's been a year. Why did it stop working correctly? No one seems to know. The hard water in San Diego has been blamed, but other people in San Diego use dishwashers and get clean dishes and no soap residue.

Jump tracks with me. Pretty nightgowns. I am now convinced they are just to make me feel better. The other night (no, no graphic details) Mr. announced that he thought we should have some "couple time" (my words, not his). He had showered and shaved and was sitting in his bathrobe watching a movie. I went upstairs to take a bath (my usual before bed routine) and just for fun pulled out a lacy, red, halter, nightie. Feeling quite pretty I decided to prance downstairs to his movie. Just as I reached the bottom step, he came around the corner. I totally startled him! All he could say was "Oh, red." I just smiled and he added, "the movie is almost over," and he turned and went back. I pranced back upstairs, smiled at myself in the mirror and waited. Not too long later he came in the room "I guess I can finish the movie up here." I just said, "I guess you can," and continued reading my People magazine. Movie over, lights out and the sweet little pat..."Oh, I didn't think you were interested." He must have thought it had something to do with the nightie cause he said. "I noticed...I said it was pretty." "No, I corrected, you said Oh, red." Then I gave him a kiss and we had a lovely "couple time." Mr. Romantic maybe not, but nightgowns are for me, not him.

Do you ever notice that just when you think everything is going well, something happens to spoil that thinking? Well, we had a wonderful trip to Portland, Oregon. The highlight for me, of course, was seeing the Rose Gardens. I couldn't believe there were 4.5 acres of roses. roses, roses. I couldn't even begin to capture the place with the camera. I have just random shots of a few rose bushes. Anyway we were leaving Portland to go see his mom. We stopped at a coffee shop on the way. I had my usual hot chocolate with gobs of whipped cream. We left. We were about 40 blocks away from the coffee shop on the freeway...I had just mused that this was the best trip yet with no major incidents. I went to text Erica and noticed I'd forgotten my purse. Quietly he just turned the car around and drove back. He didn't get mad or yell or scream or tell me what a dumb thing to do. Believe me that is what I was doing to myself in my head. That and wringing my hands praying for a miracle. We finally got back to the place. I went in and I didn't have to say a word. There was my purse...right where I'd left it. I just walked in and picked it up off the floor and walked out. No one even saw me. I thanked God for the miracle and thanked my husband for not getting mad. He just said, "You are really blessed. This is not a good neighborhood. People just walk in and take purses right off the table." So there was my very own miracle and yes, I am truly blessed.

Butterflies and Beetles

So, one of my 2nd grade science units involves growing butterflies and beetles from caterpillars and mealworms. It's very exciting to watch the metamorphosis.

I got to thinking about my life.

The caterpillar stage is ugly and down in the dirt dirty. Parts of my life have had those aspects, as I wandered around aimlessly. Not very proud of some of the things I did during that stage.

But then the caterpillar comes to the still stage. That was when my life reflected the Bible verse that says "Be still and know that I am God." That was when God wrapped me in the shiny chrysalis of his love and grace and told me to just hang tight.

The metamorphosis is time specific for butterflies and beetles, but when God is working on you, it is HIS timing, and while it is perfect, it is different for different lives. It seemed sometimes like I was hanging there forever.

But then it happened... I emerged as this fragile butterfly and God breathed life into my wings so I could fly. And wonder of wonders, I met another butterfly, who had gone through his own caterpillar stage and had his own metamorphosis in God's timing. And guess what? We are perfect for each other right NOW. We are flying together for as long as God lets us.

Love at Christmas...

Love at Christmas is when your husband keeps turning the tree this way and that until you finally pronounce it perfect and he doesn't act irritated.

Love at Christmas is when your husband is getting ready for a business trip and then goes out and puts up Christmas lights on the front of the house to surprise you.

Love at Christmas is when your husband takes you shopping at the mall.

Love at Christmas is when your husband gets you a beautiful poinsettia plant and he actually can't stand those flowers but knows you like them.

Love at Christmas is when your husband has a wonderful breakfast waiting for you when you get back from your long Saturday morning walk.

Not such good choices...

Not such good choices. Current mood: disgusted Category: Life
It all started when I didn't wake up early. I ate a banana and went for my walk at l0 a.m. That is just too late on such a humid day but I made it back in an hour. I decided I needed some breakfast so I could take my vitamins. One scoop of cookie dough ice cream, covered with black berries, a handful of walnuts and another of almonds. Oh wait topped with extra creamy whipped cream. What a delicious breakfast.
I enjoyed breakfast so much I decided to have the same thing for lunch. What a delicous lunch. And now I remember to take my vitamins.
The afternoon came and I needed a snack so I had one piece of my Dark Chocolate California Brittle. A present from Erica that I've been rationing since Mother's Day.
Erica was not going to be able to walk, so I decided to eat early. That is when I discovered the three avacados about to go bad. I put them in a bowl and mixed them with some ranch dressing. Then I toasted a tortilla with butter and globbed on the avacado mixture.
Had to kill the taste of all those avacados so I had yet another piece of my candy.
Good news Erica did want to walk. No amount of exercise was going to make up for the stuff I'd eaten today, but more exercise certainly wouldn't hurt. Bad news she did want to go out to dinner.
We went to the Mexican restaurant. I had a bite of the quesadilla, but no guacamole for me!
I decided to tell Bill who is in LA and to blog this so I would tell myself the truth about my poor choices.
Tomorrow is another day and I plan to make better food choices. I also plan to get up early. I will not pull down those blackout blinds. I do have a stomach ache now, but this too shall pass.

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500 steps.

500 steps... Current mood: tired
As I round the final corner of the down slope to my home, I've counted 500 steps to get back home.
The wind is to my back cooling off my sweaty head. It's been almost an hour since I've left my cozy bed.
My water bottle's drained, this down hill is not a strain.
And it's just 500 steps until I'm home.
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