Sleep Doesn't Come Easy These Days...

When the girls were small, it was a given.

I expected to be up every 2 hours with one, or the other, of them. Raising little people took devotion, and I was up for it. Literally...

Ah...those were the days. The days may have been full (to say the least), but the nights were reserved for them. Making sure their dreams were as calm and peaceful, as possible. 

I was tired some mornings. But as soon as my feet hit the floor, it was time for the adrenaline to perk me up. And it did. There may have been a morning (or two...or ten) stretched out in betwixt the many, that the grumpy came for a visit. We won't talk about those. Focus now. Good memories only...

That's when Dad had to bring his A game. It was only fair, right? Since he was the only one that seemed to sleep the entire night, I figured it was his turn. The rested one...until he met the walking dead, where the one with less sleep was having a hard time filtering what the most important service needed at the moment, actually was.

Years gone by...

And, here I sit, at my lonely computer...smack dab in the middle of the night. Again...

Earlier...somewhere around 1:45-2:00 AM, I had gotten up to visit the water closet/aka/bathroom. The water appeared to be as tired as I was, giving very little pressure. Toilet flushed just fine, but refused to refill immediately, like it's suppose to. Hmmmm...

I tried the lavatory. Same. No pressure...small, narrow stream at best. Hummmm...I need sleep. Not "now what?"

So...being the savvy elderly person that I am, I asked the ever present AI that sits ready, willing, and able, to answer any and all questions. Not necessarily correctly...but none-the-less, answers are quickly delivered. 

At the end of the conversation I was directed to call 311 "Right NOW!" Then I was instructed to "get some rest." Confused as to what I should do, I just went back to bed. I didn't call, nor did I get some rest. I tried. But my ever active brain said, "Not on my watch! You've been up more than 2 minutes...get busy!"

Ignoring the demands, I gave my body fifteen minutes to follow the instructions of getting some rest, ignoring the first instruction to call 311. I then decided sleep was not in the cards for me, so I got back up. My eyes are heavy, but...

I knew my trusty computer was an option to help me become more tired, so here I am. Fingers moving, brain slowing a bit...just not there yet. Late night charging stations are clearly shut down, so why am I even trying? Clueless...

I did get some work done in my day planner. Got a few more descriptive stickers stuck on this weeks agenda. Too much writing without the distraction of pretty stickers just isn't fair. And it's decently boring. So, peel and stick...

Got a couple of posts scheduled for my Facebook Group, Ageless Hair Secrets. Monday's "If You Were In My Chair" is ready to go (later this morning...about 3 hours aways now), and Tuesday's "Chair Side Secret #5, is ready as well. Both scheduled for 7 AM on their proper day.

Gotta think about the upcoming video I promised for Wednesday, but I truly don't want to at the moment. That would take real concentrated effort and my spunk hasn't quite arrived...but I do know what it's going to be about. That's something. Right?

And just so you know, because I know you're wondering (those of you who know me, anyway), I HAVE started Fall Decorations! The totes have been positioned, and already removed...back to their waiting place, for once this season has carried us into the next. Then the totes will come back out, fall deco stored safely for next year, and Winter's Christmas totes (they are many) will show themselves for my hands and my heart to make our living space(s) look like Santa flung everything he had at our house.

This year feels a little different, though. I'm not entirely sure how crazy I'll get this year with decorating. Years at the salon created a decorating monster in me. But, as the years goes by, and now that I'm retired from working the salon, the days now seem reserved for only 2 people. Not sure how much pull just the two of us has on an aging body. It's still fun once we get into it. Just getting into it is the thing. 😂

And Christmas Eve is always fun at our house. 

Did I just jump to Christmas? Afraid so. It's how my brain works. Jump. Jump. Jump. The weeks of preparing for our family gathering during the holidays is the highlight of our year. Just being a part of the hustle and bustle of the season...with twinkling lights lining roadways and homes, stores sharing all kinds of ideas to create family memories, and our littles faces when they stop by, makes this heart so very full and happy. 

They are the ones who bring this house to life. Especially while playing games on Christmas Eve where everybody wins something, but the big prize goes to only one. Their energy creates a full heart in this Grams of theirs. And Gramps. He loves it to...

We wrap up the evening by preparing white paper bags, filling them with sand and candles, organizing them every 5' along the roadside, and finally lighting the luminaria. We love how they light up the neighborhood...especially when neighbors set some out, as well. It's a great ending to a fun filled evening. And I always hope for cold weather...

Hopefully, it's a memory we all will cherish "for as long as we shall live."

They are growing up way too fast! I think we need more babies to fill this house again! 😬🤩😁

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

 

Confessions of A True Romantic...OR...The Night the Lights Went Out in Cary

I must admit...last night was pretty special for me.

We had experienced a power outage that had affected approximately 1860 households. Any form of power received from a power grid, ceased to exist for us at 2:25 PM, with the notice of expected restoration sometime between the hours of 5:30 and 6:30 PM. 

Okay. Not tooooo bad...

Still, it was stretching the time for refrigerated items to remain safe. No worries about the frozen.

At 5:46 PM, we received another message that now we were looking at having no power until 8:30...possibly 9:30 PM. 

Every electronic piece of equipment we owned was rebelling at this point. 

Per instructions from our first born, we turned off access to our WiFi, even though it was no longer connected because of the power outage. Who knew?

An old dog learned a new trick last night. Who wudda thunk? That actually worked! At least I could now get a bit more information from the world wide web...that's important, ya know. 😉😂 Still, my GPS wasn't working as I wanted it to (I always do a search to see where my family is during any "crisis").

It threw me off...by a long-shot!!!

Our Lindsey sent a text: "Sure wish you guys had a generator."

Dennis: "We do."

Me: "WHAT?! I TOTALLY FORGOT WE HAVE A GENERATOR! Why isn't that thing plugged in?"

Dennis: "Well, it won't help the AC...but we can plug a fan into it." 

(MEMO: Not once had I complained about not having an AC...We never really needed it during the entire time we were without it's cooling power house...6 hours!)

Me: "What about the refrigerator?"

Dennis: "Yeah. We could plug the refrigerator in."

Good grief...maybe he thought we wouldn't actually need it because Duke Energy had said only 2-3 hours without power. 🤷‍♀️ That turned into SIX. Must have been a doozie! Poor workers...

Dennis pulled out the generator and we both got to work getting it doing its magic. Keeping it safely outside, we had to open a window to shimmy the cord inside...then plug the opening with towels to keep the hot outside air, out, where it belonged. Outside...

Time to generate!!!

Instead of 6 candles on the dining room table, we now had a lamp that we could have used a long time ago...just sayin'. 

I came here to say this:

• The quiet house was nice.
• Dennis and I working together on something...was nice.
• Dennis sitting across the table, playing with a stack of cards...was nice.
• Noise from the TV, non-existent...was nice.
• Refrigerator humming, in spite of a power outage (food saved without having to pack a container with ice & food)...was nice.
• Being in the same room with Dennis...was nice.

By 8:16 the repairs were complete and life sprang back into "normalcy." That was nice, too...but I did enjoy the down time. Actually started re-reading a book that I had started 3 other times (only because I'd forget what happened before laying it down), but strained to see the words as the light of day got dimmer and dimmer, which made me sleepy. Down it went for another day.

Still..I really am a true romantic.

According to my AI friend, that is defined as someone who deeply values emotional honesty, vulnerability, and intentional selfless acts of affection rather than just superficial or material gestures. Yep. That's me...

I love:  

• Spending time together (laced with kindness...of course)...more valuable to me than expensive presents.
• Acts of kindness...like rubbing my feet when I don't feel so good, matter more to me than never making time to simply sit together.
• Truly loving...in spite of ones flaws,  
  

Here's what I want you to take away from this short blog post:

The lack of noise...the quiet stillness during the power outage, was nice. 

You might want to read that again....or not. 😉

Grateful for the reprieve...here you will find me...in Mary's World

Where the Shadows Linger

There is a distinct, quiet magic that returns to this room when the calendar finally turns to the cooler months. Sitting at my desk in the stillness of the early morning, I watched the first condensation of the season bloom across the outside of the window panes—a soft, silver veil signaling the arrival of the weather I love most. 

Looking past the glass, the yard is still a collection of shadowy, half-formed silhouettes waking up to the chill, a beautiful contrast to the soft and comforting blanket of coziness that instantly wraps around me the moment the air turns crisp. 

It is early, quiet, and absolutely perfect; a gentle reminder of why we wait all year for these days to arrive.

Living in North Carolina, however, longing for the season I love most, the air seems to filter back and forth through the onslaught of Fall. It's most easily compared to a battle of one against the other. As if the hot, sweltering days of Summer refuses to release it's grip on earth's atmosphere, while the soft, cool and very inviting winds of change entice even the hottest of days.

And as I sit here, watching the shadows deepen across the yard from my desk, I realize how much comfort there is in this transition. Nature never fights the turning of the calendar; it simply leans into the quiet, cool spaces. Change is coming, whether we feel entirely ready or not, and there is a distinct magic in letting it happen. 

☕️ I’m trading my iced coffee for a warm mug, watching the weather patterns transform as they remind me of the coming of comfort...as I happily welcome everything this new season has to offer.

Watching...as the shadows linger, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

It's 3 AM...

There are some nights I get plenty of rest. Some nights are interrupted with dreams that keep me up for the rest of the day.

I wouldn't say they are tormenting dreams. They do have the potential to do just that, however. If I don't settle myself. This morning, I knew my over-active brain was going to put a spin on this dream, simply because it's one of my deep seated fears that give reign to my spin abilities.  

And if you know me, even just a little bit, you also know I go into over-drive pretty easily. Especially if the situation deems it an imagination that has the potential of becoming a reality. 

And then...God inserted a song into my soul, by way of the very over-active brain in my head. It needed a reminder. And it began to play... 

I love You, Lord
Oh, Your mercy never fails me
All my days, I've been held in Your hands  (He reminds me of this from time to time...)
From the moment that I wake up
Until I lay my head
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

And all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

I love Your voice
You have led me through the fire  (Oh boy. Has He ever! We all have our fires, don't we?)
And in darkest night You are close like no other
I've known You as a Father
I've known You as a Friend
And I have lived in the goodness of God, yeah

And all my life You have been faithful, oh
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God, yeah

'Cause Your goodness is running after, it's running after me (All we need do is open our eyes to see this truth)
Your goodness is running after, it's running after me
With my life laid down, I'm surrendered now
I give You everything
'Cause Your goodness is running after, it's running after me, oh-oh
'Cause Your goodness is running after, it's running after me
Your goodness is running after, it's running after me
With my life laid down, I'm surrendered now
I give You everything
'Cause Your goodness is running after, it keeps running after me

And all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I'm gonna sing of the goodness of God
I'm gonna sing, I'm gonna sing
Oh, 'cause
'Cause all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I'm gonna sing of the goodness of God
Oh, I'm gonna sing of the goodness of God

One of the most comforting things God has ever spoken to me, came at a time I was facing what looked to me, to be too much uncertainty. No vision of what the next few years would look like. I had no trouble conjuring up what they COULD look like...and therein was the problem. 

The words were clear. There was no question where they came from. And they settled me. 

"Wherever you find yourself to be...I will be there."

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

What Can Happen in A Second...

I swear I just closed these blinds to shut out any remaining light from the day. I roll myself into bed, snuggle down and dream of whatever my sub-conscience has deemed worthy to latch onto.

But now...Now, I am opening those same blinds once again. The night went fast and another day has dawned.

In only a few hours, I'll be doing this rote action all over again. And I'll be thinking the same thing. "I just opened these blinds a short while ago."

Same thing when undoing, and making up, the bed. It feels as if I was just standing in this spot not that long ago. And yet the time has past and I grow ever older...

The hours are made up of minutes. The minutes made up of seconds.

Have you ever stood still and just watched the seconds tic off? Some might say, "Why would I ever waste time like that?" To me...the time isn't wasted when if puts ones life in perspective, where once it was all over the place. Floating through life as if those seconds had never existed.

If for no other reason, one should watch the seconds tic off at least once in their brief time here. A fresh appreciation for time granted you, will suddenly erupt inside a once sleeping brain.

Appreciation. Gratefulness. Awareness. 

Not so we could just cram more into our days, but that we could appreciate the moments of our days. Whether they be the quiet moments, or the busy moments. Appreciation causes our eyes to see things a bit clearer.

We become slower to judge others, even ourselves.

So much can happen in the breath of a second...

• Blinking...did you know your eyes blink 2-3 times it takes a second to tic off the clock?
• Heartbeats...did you know your heart pumps .07 liters of blood with each beat?
• Cellular activity...did you know that more than 100,000 chemical reactions take place inside your body every second?
• Lightening strikes...did you know that 100 lightening strikes hit the earth every second of any given day?
• Births & Deaths...did you know that within every second the clock tics, around 4 babies have been born and 2 deaths have occur, worldwide?

The list could go one, but what I really came here to say is that every second we draw oxygen into our lungs...matters.

Life, as we know it, can change considerably in the matter of seconds.

Some seconds throw us into confusion as to how we should respond to an unexpected situation. Good, or not so good. 

Maybe we should live a bit more intentionally.   

Just a random thought, musings, swirling around in my brain this morning...

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Memories of Recent Days...

That first year was a dud. A time of figuring out who I was, now that I had said "Okay" to retirement. Fiddling; learning a few things about what having a greenhouse meant, Wearing a path on our hardwoods throughout our living spaces, looking at things needing done (but didn't have the gusto, or the want to), missing conversations with my clients, and eventually becoming a hermit, had became a swirling dark cloud focused on keeping me a prisoner.

It's not a pretty sight. Most days I looked like a homeless person, living in my comfy (and decently sloppy) pants and shirts, hair looking flat and unimpressive, adding to a mild depressive state. We, by nature, believe what we see reflected back to us in those 45 mirrors we have hanging vicariously throughout our houses. Or is it just me?

I suppose stranger things have happened. I suppose I'm not the only one who gets surprised by life's little quirks. I also suppose there are others whose minds have changed to an extreme they never saw coming. But here we are...

It has been close to a month since rising from bed one morning and my whole body felt it had been renewed while sleeping. It wanted to live again. The central nervous system had finally awakened after a long year of paralyzation, and connected once again to guidance from its main source of supply...the cortex of human existence...known simply as the brain,

Instructions began loud and clear. Upon rising, memories began to emerge and thoughts began whirling much like turning on a rotating fan. As my sensory integration began, and found it's proper place, the blades picked up speed. 

"Oh boy....here we go," I thought.

But it felt oh. so. good!!! Almost like what I think a re-birth would feel like. All of a sudden I had a purpose that I had laid down without having a clear plan as to where my feet may land. It was me jumping off a cliff...hoping to land on solid ground...yet not knowing if I would. For sure.

This past month has been different. Not in a way that anyone (other than myself...and possibly a few family members) would recognize. Unless they had know the "before" me. But I know. I know something has changed. Something good.

Being a worker all my natural life (from the age of 7 years), the transition from working with a schedule, to not working with a schedule, was daunting. To say the least...

I've never been one for marketing myself. Probably never will be. I have no need of becoming famous, so have always depended on word of mouth, and the knowledge of belonging to a God that is for me and not against me, has been my guiding light. I've always done what I've known to do and listened as best I could, for direction from Him who knows all things.

I've made my fair share of mistakes. But the way I see it, is, without mistakes we can't grow. Just like the natural body heals if it's cared for, so do the failures become successes when wisdom is applied as lessons are learned. Of this I am sure.

That morning I was speaking of? The morning I woke and felt new? The first thought that came through my waking moments was, "It's time to live again."

"It's time to live again." A second before that thought, I was sound asleep. And then the thoughts began to whirl...much like a dusty old fan had been turned back on. That's when you know you have been given instructions. For me...I knew.

I'm not completely sure what this all means. I don't have to. My days seem different now. I feel more awake, more alive. On a different path than the past "do nothing" year. "Lay back and take your ease" year. 

"You've earned it," just didn't settle well with me. 

And the beautiful rain falling this morning has been my inspiration to sit quietly, once again, to visit my blog site to create another memory for the times I forget.

Awake, and feeling alive, again...with plenty on my plate...

...As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Something New Is Brewing...

Recently...just this past week...I've been working on something new. Something I never saw coming, until it did. 

It's not what I would have ever thought to do. At least I wouldn't have planned it out, which is what I usually do with anything new. Of course, there had to be planning (of a sort), but this planning didn't happen until the thought came front and center.

The reason I think it just might be the most unusual, never seen before, bend in the road...a turn that takes me out of my comfort zone, is simply because I would never have (on purpose) chose something so bizarre. Bizarre to me, at least... 

Well, Mary. What have you done now?

Honestly, I was searching for a way to create a stream of income outside of the usual monthly "allowance" we get from Social Security. Once a person hits retirement age (way past, for me), and actually retires, if feels as if everything is flowing out and not much flowing in. It can be a bit disconcerting. 

Where this particular advice came from, I couldn't tell you. It seemed a bit odd to me at first glance. And that, my friends, is what got my attention. It was something out of the norm of what I had found upon previous searches.

So now that you have the foundational information, I suppose it's time to say exactly what I'm dipping my toes into these days.

Okay...it's something I said I would never do. Doesn't it always happen that way? Never say never...

I have started a Facebook Group!!! Only because there aren't enough of those things. 🤣 

However, this group is different. Be honest. You knew it would be. Right? It is different in that even the title says, "What in the world???" 🤣🥴🤣🌿 At first glance, one might wonder how this could be a relevant group. But trust me...it's gonna be good!

It's a place where honest questions about hair issues someone may be having, will be answered (no matter the members age) in a welcoming environment. A non-judgmental environment. A "Pull Up A Chair" and let's have a conversation environment. 

Plans are to have a Hair Library.

1) Seasonal Hair

2) Gray Hair

3) Thinning Hair

4) Hair Myths

5) Salon Stories

There could be more. One never knows what the 'morrow may bring. We have only begun.

Plans are to post on Monday, Wednesday, & Friday.

Monday: "If You Were In My Chair" addressing practical tips, or a myth buster.

Wednesday: "Pull Up A Chair" with a conversation members want to talk about. If no one has a question for that particular week, I will use something from my most commonly asked questions when I was still working behind the chair.

Friday: "From Behind the Chair" will be little stories, a bit of encouragement, a seasonal reminder, or a possible reflection. Whatever my trusted archival brain brings front and center. 😁 Hopefully, members will leave with enough encouragement to put a really big smile on their faces.

That's what this little group is destined for. The main end desire, when I was still standing for 9-10 hours behind the chair, was to see a smile etch itself across my clients face. To see them walk just a little taller as they left the comforts of my salon. That hasn't changed. I love seeing people smile.

THAT is what I want for this "Ask A Retired Hairstylist" group! A place to feel like you are visiting with someone who actually cares about what you care about. 

A place much like what a porch light feels like. A place that shines to show a clear path. A welcoming environment. A place of safety. A place of truth.

A porch light, or possibly a sun room that has a large Boston Fern standing ornately in the corner windows, surrounded by comfortable seating and a place to sit a cup of coffee. A place to relax and simply visit.

And...in the future...should anyone need a one-on-one with me (through a Zoom meet up), there will be opportunity for that. Think of it as a private consultation. That is where one can get professional advice for a small fee.

This group is for common issues that may not be able to give distinct answers for individual distressed issues. Not all hair is "created" equal.😁

Our group is live. Now. It's a private group, just so we can keep it real. Yet, it's easy to join. Just copy and paste the URL below into your facebook search. OR do a search in FB groups for Ask A Retired Hairstylist.

Find it here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/4313356238928167

Being only a week old, we are still in the "tweaking" phase. That's got me written all over it🥴. A bit too anxious to get things moving before the over-all look has even been decided on. My salon without walls... 😁 Yep. Once I get an idea in my head....ugh! It's so hard to slow my roll...

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

P.S.

My very old, sweet fern has been with me since our late July 2013 move from Oklahoma where she hung from the arbor that sat in our front yard. She rode in the back of D's pickup for 1200 miles of heat and wind, only getting nurtured at break stops along the way. She has sat in this corner since August 5th, 2013. She's tired. Not what she once was. But, hey! Aren't we all? 

See you in the new group?

I've Been Called Worse

I've been called Moco (long story)

I've been called Mama

I've been called Dear Auntie

I've been called Amazon Woman

I've been called Miracle Worker

But I've never been called "Delicate Flower", until now...

As strong and resilient as I have been in the past, it seems I must come to terms with being something I've never been before.

Most people (I think), when doing a 180...when pivoting from the norm..usually have a solid, trust worthy plan in place as to what the next chapter of their lives will look like. They head into it with enthusiasm and with the necessary equipment (mental & otherwise), they foresee needing, in a strange new world they are about to become a part of. 

That just wasn't me...

Yes, I grew up on a farm. Strength and resilience form within, stemming from inside ones mental and physical being. From extreme sweltering heat in the summer and debilitating freezing cold in the winter we rose to the challenge and conquered. A farm girl is up for it. Our bodies adjust to the elements as they knock at the door.

Yes, I was outside at least 12 hours each day. With 30 minutes (to an hour) for lunch. Should the gods smile on us, allowing our strength to replenish for the remaining hours needed to take care of business.

Farm business. Outside business. Business that was necessary to keep the family alive. And we did it without complaint. At least no complaining where any adult could hear us. Okay. Where Dad could hear us. He had a knack for solving a complaining spirit. And, I'm glad he stayed the course...

As the years turned me into a young adult, I left the confines of my training grounds. I was no longer needed outside to work the fields, the log woods, or the milking barn. Dad had begun the process of selling everything because of his failing health, and I was the only child left at home, required to milk (by hand) 20 head of holsteins...before school.

It was at this time, I became an "inside" girl. 

For the most part, it agreed with me. Sure, there were jobs I seriously dreaded facing. Most of them, actually. I hated factory work. I loathed waitressing (at least in the beginning). I did love the connection made with humanity (mostly), and the thanks I received of doing my job well; tips were amazing. This type of job became my norm for many years, mainly because of the freedom it gave me to work as long as I wanted and money was great. Because I was a worker.

Trained by the best. My Dad. Work was not a dirty word. It was a gift given by our Maker.

I left the restaurant & lounge business to train in cosmetology, later becoming a salon owner and stylist. For 50 years. It was a good run.

I don't know when my body decided it was going to start a rebellion against outside work. But it did. Maybe because it had become accustomed to controlled air conditioning in the hot summer months, and wood burning heat in the winter, rarely having to deal with the outside elements. At least not for long periods of time. And now I was asking it to conform back to working in nature, once again, only now with aging resources. 

For whatever reason, what my body had left to give me, decided to build a fire pit inside my core ready to ignite the minute I stepped into the heat of the day (hoping to change my mind) I suppose. If I pushed on regardless, and chose to stay in the heat (working...or just standing), within 15 minutes my skin felt the burn from inside as well as from the outside. Blisters showing themselves proud.

Looking back, I do believe it was telling me that enough was enough. The years this amazing conglomeration of cells, veins, muscles, blood and bone, had given to the cause, now decided it was time for a little R&R. A time for working a little less in the natural heat of the sun, and more in the unnatural cool of an AC. 

The problem with that was when it came time to retire (ugh...I still have a hard time saying that word), my mind was not ready to say, "Okay. You've earned it." My mind was trained to continue even in the hard places. Even when the body is weary. Or hot. Or both.

But change did come.

It has now been a full year, and I think I have finally come to grips with my world looking vastly different. My mind, and my body, have finally come together (while negotiating), and agreed they weren't finished. It was time to live again. Time to reconnect. Time to push until something foundational begins to surface, with both working towards the same goal.

Maybe this "new world" isn't that strange at all. Maybe this unlikely pivot, isn't a time for giving up. Maybe it's time for the culmination of what 79 years on this planet has produced for someone previously known as "Wonder Woman" & "Miracle Worker".

I can work with "Delicate Flower". For a season 😉

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

P.S.

Isn't the next chapter of a book usually better than the one before? 

My Little Mansion...from the Backside

To some, it may not look like much. To me, it's a mansion. 

My little part of the world is loved not because of how it's built, nor because of where it stands. It is loved because I believe it was prepared for us, for this particular season of life.

The homestead waited in a fast moving real estate market, refusing to show what it could be. It waited for us to arrive. It waited for us to decide what we would do, or could do, to change it up, once we said, "Okay." It knew I would resist owning it. The curb appeal was lacking enticement. It knew I would resist the possibilities of what it could be, simply because my heart was set on something a little more grand. It waited for our love to fully arrive.

I'm so grateful for its (and God's) patience with me.

Today, sitting on our backyard swing, enjoying the cool morning breeze as it sweeps Mimosa fluffs past me on their way to anything they can attach themselves to, I snap this picture. 

We've occupied this land for 13 years, paying off the mortgage at the beginning of this year. She's completely ours now. Feels so good. So freeing...

Having recently gotten a face life, our little mansion stands stately, maybe just a little too proudly. She loves her new look, as do I. Like a shiny new penny, she glistens. 

It's been a long time coming, yet she is so very grateful for the years before. It shows in how well she accepts those little nuisances the Mimosa's throw at her, and the gum balls that litter her yard, trying to make her feel less beautiful. And those pine needles! Oh, they do love to gather on her roof, trying their best to smother her breathing capabilities.

But, today? She shines bright! Welcoming those who need a bit of peace. Demonstrating how one can overcome life's little distractions if they but choose to look closer. If they would just take a breath, close their eyes, and listen.

A house is a building of brick and mortar, or in some places, it's a house made of only limbs & straw. It is the people who turn it into a home. A home where those who abide therein, call forth their many talents, created by love. Their creative talents that are meant for such a time as this.

A house that love turns into a home.

Or a mansion. Depends on whose eyes one is looking through.

Being a child that was born during the aftermath of the Great Depression, where soup lines were formed to feed the hungry, and gas was rationed for those who owned a vehicle. I was a child trained under the wisdom of parents who only had what the land could provide for them. "Waste not, want not" was a mantra in our household. We were grateful for the food put in front of us, never questioning if there might be something more (or different)...never realizing just how "poor" we were. 

I was a child that got giddy with excitement when her dad said, "Go ahead. Reach into my pocket and however much your hand can pull out is yours." Pulling out only one dime felt like I had just won the lottery. Most days, it meant we could go for ice cream after chores.

This child looked at the world a bit differently than what I have observed in this day and age. Times have indeed changed. Or maybe it's just that I have grown up and have been granted more than what was experienced as a child. But I will never forget my roots. I'll never forget the life lessons taught as one growing up knowing self-sufficiency. 

Regardless of life's pitfalls, my heart is full of gratitude for the life given me, and the provision that is always right in front of us...waiting to be accepted. The ups, the downs, the hardships, the fears, the hopes, the down right disappointments, at times. All of it. 

God always sees us through the difficult times and rejoices with us in the good times. His hope is that we will trust in his provision, especially when all our eyes see is lack. Do what we are able and leave the results up to Him. 

We only need to keep our eyes open to see beyond the "curb appeal" as to what can be, if we but put our hands, and our hearts to the task. God provided, now let's see how to make it our "mansion."

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

#mylife #myjourneyamongtheunseen #grateful #theforgottenway #seeingbeyondthenatural #Godprovides 

It Started with a Dying Azalea Bush

Funny how one thing leads to another.

It was a bush I was fighting to keep, only because it partially hid a bedroom I didn't want passersby to see into. It was becoming pretty straggly, even after D trimmed it back. It was old. It was tired. I understood.

One day, a couple of weeks ago, Dennis took me out to look at a gaping hole that had eaten its way into the front of the bush. I knew it was time. So we called our guy that had helped set a foundation for the incoming greenhouse around this same time last year. 

As Andrew looked the front of the house over, and after I had shared my vision with him, he said, "You know what would make the landscaping look really great?" In unison, he and I both said, "Paint the house."

I just looked at Dennis. He knew. We've had this discussion for several years now, but neither of us wanted to spend what it would cost to do something so time consuming. But that dang Azalea bush was now demanding something change quickly.

Plans were drawn up, and approved. A long-time neighbor of ours gave Dennis the phone number of a friend of his who has been in the painting business for 20 years, or so, and we dove headlong into a complete home make-over. Exterior only. Full house power-wash and paint job, and then front landscaping. It was time. Past time, actually. 

The painter and his power-washing guy, was first on the list, while our landscaper drew up a precise design, and had his crew make a trip out to pull all remaining bushes from in front of the house. It had to be a clean sweep of all things bushy. Now the painters had full access to the house.

Side Note: If you have ever thought about power-washing your house and driveway, but thought it an unnecessary project, you should reconsider. I was amazed at the difference it made. Everything (and I mean everything) looked so fresh and clean! Top to bottom. Even the screened in back porch. Everything looked almost new, with a 1900's vibe.

Time for the paint to show us what a difference it could make on an old house desperately needing....something. Choosing the "just right" paint color was a decently difficult task. After several considerations, we settled upon a color called "Cityscape" from Sherwin Williams. We had never met the guys assigned the task, but they were thorough, detailed, and so very friendly. What a job they had! We have a fireplace, so the brick on the chimney had to be painted as well. They made quick work of it, though, and was finished sooner than I had imagined possible. Everything had to be gone over twice. Once for the prepping and putting on a primer, and then the actual paint.

Rain got in the way a couple of days, but all is well that ends well. Right? We had to reschedule our landscaper, but he was facing the same rain issues with a previous job he was trying to get done. So it all worked out just fine.

I will get to water the newly planted trees and bushes, every morning for at least 2 weeks, simply because they were put in the ground a bit late. No worries, though. Even with watering (front and back yard together takes about an hour), I still go out a couple (or 3) times a day and just look at everything. It's so refreshing to see our house looking a bit more like the neighborhood. Well...SOME of the neighborhood. 😂 

The custom made shutters will go up when they arrive, and then....we will be done. I think. I hope. 

I did take a pretty cold shower a few minutes ago. Which can mean only one thing. Our tankless heater is about to retire. UGH!!! 

Let me know what you think of the before and after pics, below. Quite a difference. Yes?

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

P.S.

Shutters hung and I'm questioning the stain color of choice. Hummmmmm....They may end up being re-stained black. We shall see. We shall see. 

What do you think? Let the dark brown shutters stay? Or stain them black?

BEFORE PIC

BEFORE PIC

BEFORE PIC:

Now that you know these are the "BEFORE" pictures... This is the Azalea bush that started it all. That and the rotting shutters you see behind it. 

Poor little house. I'm so sorry we ignored your needs for so long.

ARGGGHHHH... Can you believe the condition of those shutters? I'm sorry you have to see how your retired hair stylist let her house become something you might see on the "wrong side of the tracks." But life can be messy at times.

Time had come to let go of a bit of the money meant for retirement. Change had to happen at some point. Agreed? 🤦‍♀️ 

Just call me the tight wad that lives down the street.

And now, for the AFTER pictures. Please proceed with a tiny scroll...

AFTER PICS

AFTER PICs

AFTER PICS

South end of the house (where the dying Azalea bush was), now stands a Japanese Bloodgood Maple. Sorry about the light reflection on my camera lens. Makes it a bit hard to see.

These are only babies waiting to show us their full beauty. They are so pretty! So amazingly beautiful! 

North end of the house where other bushes were...some not so bad, others needing gone. So we had them all taken out so Andrew could work some magic for us. 

It's so fun going outside now, and just looking at the house.

Neighbors must be thinking that's a bit weird. That's okay. I like weird. Occasionally...

Front view of the house (now that I'm not embarrassed to show it). 😏😆

Unless one stretches the picture, it's hard to tell this used to be a red brick house. Partially. Some siding.

Soooo...dark brown shutters, or black???

Comment below. We all have an opinion. What is yours?

First the Natural...

In just a couple of days, I'll be another year older than this time last year, and although my mind tells me I haven't aged since 1987 (when mid-life hit), my body tells me otherwise. "Yes, my dear. You most certainly can now be identified as an 'elder' ready to stock pile Tylenol."

Although I still do well in the day-to-day, a different story emerges when my intelligence tells me I can still do the work I did as a 40 year old person. I don't particularly like being wrong.

We started a project last Wednesday (May 20th) and are set to finish it by this coming Tuesday (June 2nd), which just happens to be my birthday. We're calling it Mary's Final Wishes...only because it puts a decently sized hole in our budget. There won't be any more wishes this size, for sure.

There's one final touch to complete, then all is done! Hopefully. I may need to gather side items, but nothing as dramatic as this project has been. There may be before and after pictures, later, when things are completed. No promises...just thoughts hanging out in my head this morning.

But, like most posts of mine, this one is no different, in that what you just read is similar to most others. What I began with has nothing to do with what is mainly on my mind. Welllll....maybe a tiny bit. But not much more than that. 

Don't try to figure me out. Dennis has tried for 51 + years, to no avail.

While working on my Planner for the upcoming week, I noticed an encouragement, a challenge of sorts, I had written to myself just last week. Since retirement, I have gotten really lazy. Seriously! Well, lazy in my eyes. I haven't completely stopped moving, but it's getting too close for comfort now. 

Thus, the picture for this post. Bet you were wondering, right? I'm tellin' you ladies (and guys), once you stop being, stop doing, what you've done for eons of time, the Devil's Workshop shows up. We settle in and rest from all the busyness of past years, only to wake up feeling a bit useless. At least I have. It has taken me a full year to get my mojo back and now my body is screaming at me for ignoring it. UGH!!!

Life with purpose is coming back to a life well lived. A life filled with challenges amongst the pleasures. The year of a slate wiped clean is beginning to find actions put to the words written upon it...once again.

There's simply no one to blame, but myself, and since I am used to blaming Dennis for everything, I have been (for the last year) wallowing in my own demise. 

Note to Self: Transformation comes only after the physical is challenged.

Here's to forward movement!

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Shadows That Don't Move

I can tell when I have too much going on in my head. Too many concerns. Too many anxious thoughts. 

I do have them from time to time. This is one of them. So, now I'm up at 3:33 AM holding my head in my hands. It's not that I WANT to be up at 3:33 AM. It's just that when my body woke me as nature called, my mind picked back up where it left off last night while preparing to retire for the day. I told it not to, but, alas...it apparently has a will all its own.

Trying to distract my ever active brain, this early morning, I scheduled 3 months worth of Dr. Livingood's supplements. No worries...the last go-around was about to run out. After patting myself on the back, I ventured into the kitchen for a second cup of coffee, and remembered I thought I had heard Dennis washing his hands about 15 minutes earlier, but he was not up and around that I could tell. Better go check on him, since hearing what sounded like moaning come from an area close to his bathroom.

Walking down the hall, now, to set the coffee on it's heating pad in the study because it takes priority over making sure D is okay. Done. Now to check in on Dennis. Heading to his bathroom, I hear another noise and now fears began their job of worst case scenarios. All is mostly quiet (as it should be at this hour), a shadow emerges from the left side of my peripheral vision. D's bathroom is on the right. 😳😳😳

I don't think I have EVER, in my entire life, lifted to a boxing stance. Intruders, take notice. Both arms fixed in place, much like a real life professional boxer. Ready! Come at me!!! Adrenaline doing its best to keep me level headed, I did not scream. Another phenomenon... 

Screaming is my normal response to surprise. ANY surprise. I just scream. 🤷‍♀️ Loudly...

Still in position to knock the shadow out, it steadies itself by standing very still. All I could see was the shadow of a decently large being. Where's the scream???!!! Lodged inside somewhere, I suppose. But that shadow came really close to having a bloody nose, which, I am pretty sure would have reciprocated with a similar action. OMG!!! Could you just make yourself KNOWN???!!! 

Of course not. That would have been way too easy. We don't do easy in this house...

Synopsis: Mind cleared. Ready to start the day, now.

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

P.S.

One decently large shadow for sale.

The Prater Name Tells All...

 

I've heard this to be a true statement, more times than I can count. The curiosity comes from why I am told this. Why is this something I need to hear? Is it because I like to talk...maybe a little too much?

Years ago, I sent off a DNA test for a look-see into our family history. Ancestry.com turns out to be an amazing site. Oh wow! So many interesting surprises coming down from my ancestors. 

One that intrigued me was the meaning of our last name. "Prater: the one who talks a lot." 🥴

Well...that puts things in perspective. LOL So, is there simply no hope that we Praters will ever experience wisdom? I'm going to say that cannot be a true statement. Completely, at least. I know of a significant amount of people baring the Prater name that have wisdom coming out their pores. 

While it may be true that the quiet is able to attain more wisdom, simply by listening, I can agree...but simply not as a stand alone truth. If one does nothing but talk, leaving no air space for anyone else in the room, how do they learn anything about those who are not talking? For which I need to apologize for this past weekend in the mountains. You know who you are...

But, questions were asked that took more time to answer than a mere sentence or two. However, I do wish I had shortened those sentences. I do wish I had heard more of the stories of those sitting quietly. I had questions, too. Their answers were much shorter than mine...even though one of them had Prater blood flowing through his veins. Must not have been a significant amount. Maybe more Johnson blood? I need to find out what THEIR name means. Hmmmm....

Looks like I still have work to do...

As always, here you will find me...in Marys World.

Stories for the Generations

MOTHER'S DAY 2026! 

It's a day that brings moms into the limelight. A day that recognizes if it weren't for mom's, this world would eventually die. Mom's built this world, in a sense. Am I right?

I've wished, so many times, to be able to hear my Momma's voice again. To be able to see her standing in front of me. Being able to visit, like we rarely were able to do during my growing years.

This year, my Mother's Day gift from our girls was unique. A gift I wish my own mom could have made use of. I had never heard of Remento before today. Created by a very inspired and talented young man, specifically for his mom, is now offered to the masses. How cool is that?!

A message from Lindsey & Warner and Meghan & Reagan...was tucked inside the intro. "I'm gifting you Remento so that we can have a book of your best stories. Simply talk to share your memories...no writing is needed! Together, we'll create a life story book that captures your voice and memories for generations to come."

At first, I was a bit concerned. Concerned that I wouldn't be able to come up with anything, or with things they would want to know about. But then...Remento (and Lindsey) has made it soooo easy by giving "prompts" for what the girls would like to know about. Meg may also be in on this, just didn't see her name in the collaboration section. Maybe she'll be feeding Lindsey questions she'd like answered, and along with Lindsey's, the stories will happen. 

I'm pretty excited about this. I can either do an audio, or a video of what I want for the day. My choice. Which is great...cause some days I'm pretty chill and the evidence shows in the mirror. 😁 Thankfully, it will only be 3 days a week. I can do that. Yet, I think I did read where I could record anytime I want. Doesn't matter how many times a day, or how many days. The prompts never go away. I can even hit "pause" if I get distracted (which is likely), and get back to it when I'm ready to.

Remento will save all my stories, videos, and audios...to be compiled into a book at the end of the first year of recording. I can upload pictures of years gone by, or anything I want. They may even get to see some of my beautiful flower garden projects. What an amazing idea!!!

In book form, each story that has taken the audio (or video) and put into written words, will also have a QR code that will give access to the video (or audio..whichever I've chosen that day) for that particular session. See what I mean?!!! 

Hopefully, this will be a cherished book, as it says, "for generations to come." I may be gone, but my girls (and their girls) will always have access to me...through this very thoughtful gift. Memories fade, but now they don't have to.  

Thank you, my beautiful girls!!!

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

Narrow Miss

It seems so very long ago. The year was 1973. I had just came back to my home grown stomping grounds. Not sure where that phrase came from, but this girl never "stomped" a day in her life. That would have been completely off her radar...until 1970. That's the year she got as far away from her ex as possible.

I had moved to Madison, TN. to start a "new life" and get my head on straight. An older sister and her husband had welcomed me into their home until I could find a place of my own. And I did that within a couple of months. The years between 1970 and mid 1973, were, ummmm....interesting. 

A story for another time. Possibly...

Why this memory is front and center of my thinking this early a.m. is curious to me. I had awaken from a dream of impossible circumstances that I had made it through. Mostly unscathed. Along a fence line were a few rows of strong, very tall trees and saplings. I was in a car that would by no means be possible to push through. They grew close together making it a challenge to even walk between them. But I knew there must be a way.

Thinking about this dream, I'm still in awe of how the trees gave way to me. It had been a challenge I accepted and it was as if the trees felt my determination and so granted me access. They simply leaned over to make a way through, when the car made first contact.

There's a story of excellence in there...

Time spent in Tennessee had to come to an end, however. I had stepped into a world I didn't belong in and soon found I was in over my head. The trees in the dream??? One would have to know from whence I came, to fully understand just how desperate I had become. Much like my thoughts of the "how can I get through this" in the dream.

The letter I had penned, ended with, "Please help me!" A letter written to the sister back home I could always count on to be there for me. 

Side Note: I'm pretty sure any of my siblings would have responded to that cry for help, should I have asked. However, coming from the large family that I did, there was only one, close in age, that I leaned on, and fully knew, during the growing years. She was the one making sure I didn't die.

Beck had came for me. Along with a brother and sister-in-law. Rush and Linda. They flew out from Oklahoma, to Tennessee, to rescue a little lost lamb. I am the "baby" of the family and I think may have been the most spoiled. At least that's what I've been told. Way too many times...

There are too many stories to tell of this trip to, and from, to lay out here. This particular post is about an event that took place once I returned to Miami, Oklahoma. With no job promise (another story to tell), for when I arrived back home, I took a job doing what I had done for the better part of my stay in Tennessee. Cocktail waitressing. It's where the real money was. Get 'em drunk and they will leave a wad of cash as a tip for serving them. I don't think I ever thought about what might happen to them after they left the establishment. As far as I was concerned, it would be of their own making anyway. Yep. I was a jewel back then.

It was what was suppose to be my 3rd night working, when everything went down. I hadn't liked the place from the first night there and by the second night had made my decision to leave. I had become accustomed to taking home everything I had made in a nights time of serving those who were out for what they perceived to be a good time. But, this place...well, they thought it would be great having the servers SHARE their tips with all the crew. Because, hey! We were a team! Right? 🙄 I think we all know how that works in an environment of this sort. 

You guessed it. Of course, the new girl gets to do most of the work, especially knowing where she came from and what she was capable of. They thought it great fun to watch while they stood at the bar and snickered. Talk about a party pooper. This new girl wasn't about to let that happen.

By the end of the second night of a very heavy shift, I had made my decision this was not the place for me. I had raked in a LOT of money working my booty off, while the others served only a table or two the whole night. They did help clean up my tables, however. Good call, so more could be seated and let the bimbo make their earnings for the night, while they sipped on whatever they wanted.

At the end of the shift, and after my tips (and their few pennies) had been laid out on the bar and divided up, I was one angry girl. I ended up with a fourth of what I had earned. I said, "How is this even close to being right? Enjoy the fruits of my labor," and left. Never to go back. 

Taking from the one who makes the money, to give to those who do nothing, sounds a little familiar, don't you think? I'll just leave that right here...

The very next evening, police raided the establishment. ALL the workers were hauled off to jail. 🤣🤣🤣❤️. I don't remember the why, but I do remember the consequences.. 

I think I missed a bullet with the decision made the previous night. When reading it in the Miami News Record, our local newspaper, my first reaction was shock, then I became very amused. No need explaining why.

And that is the story of how I escaped being a jail bird. Interesting...don't you think? LOL 

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

The Demons We Fight

Photo by Lindsey Lewis

Break downs. Emotional deficits. As years of feeling invisible, or unheard often deplete value, so do the years of being "too much," or "extra," deplete self-acceptance. Self-esteem plummets.

There. I said it.

It feels much like a hammer that consistently pounds, having no control to stop, will sub-consciously strike again, and  again...until the thing it is pounding is flattened completely.

Until there is no sign of resistance. Ever. 

Unless it wasn't what the hammerer perceived to be true, one could say, "Mission accomplished."

Deep sorrow. Deep sadness overtakes the individual that is fighting for their life. For the life they were given, but haven't  quite lived out as it was meant to be. Are they only imagining the feeling of unimportance, as they've been told time and time again?  

So many repetitive questions of, "Why are you like this?' "And, "Why are you always...(fill in the blanks)?"

Are they simply believing the insecurities that became a part of life while being convinced they weren't good enough? That they weren't pretty enough? Or lovable enough? After all, they should be grateful for what they have. Even if it verifies what they have feared all along.

At this moment in time, I do think it may be the key that unlocks the whys...

When we finally arrive at the end of ourselves...at the end of our abilities to become something different than what we've been made to believe; those are the times we see more clearly. Truth has a way of coming forward when lies have extended their stay and have been exposed through death. Death of spirit. Or of the ability to care any longer. With the crushing of the soul, comes the ousting of a once burning flame.

What we don't understand at the time of lifting our truce flag, is that even though the fire may have lost it's needed fuel to burn brightly, the embers still live beneath...unnoticed by many on-lookers, just waiting for the day the abused rustles, and gently blows on what remains hidden.

That's when truth becomes apparent. It's when truth becomes obvious. It's when truth shouts, "You are more than this!" "You've allowed another's voice to tell you who you are and you have listened to a voice other than the Father's."

It was He who sent you to be born into this world, and it is He who asks you to let him be the guide. For a purpose that no one, other than He, can show you. It is He who laughs at the storm and commands it to be still. 

Maybe she was "too much" most of the time. It showed up as she was fighting to live. As she was trying her best to see the real person that had been created by a loving God, but choosing the way of wrong choices, had unknowingly became less than what was promised her. 

Her ear was turned to the accuser, stopping the flow of goodness that had been poured out over her, as she turned a deaf ear towards the one who convicts (not condemns) of sinful nature. Waiting to free her.

Less than what was possible. Less than all the gifts she knew had been placed inside her, from the first burst of creativity to the last hope of importance. Never to be revealed because fear demanded those thoughts be left to collect dusty neurons that crusted over and cracked with age. Unusable... ~Psalm 139, Philippians 4:8

It's the battle demons love as they watch a life crumble. Demons who have been instructed to render God's kids useless while they walk this earth. Their job is to disable. Mentally bind the impressionable so they will never inspire another, encourage masses, or mentor nations with the truth of God's love for them. ~Matthew 28:19-20

The good news? 

It's a battle that can be won...if we but allow. ~2 Chronicles 20:15

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

#LifeIssues #myjourneyamongtheunseen #greatisHisfaithfulness #mindpower #winningthebattle

Waste Not, Want Not

Habits...we all have them, right? I just finished preparing my morning cup of coffee, with an added teaspoon of "mushroom coffee". Up until about 2 months ago, I had my coffee with the mushroom coffee additive purchased from www.weliveconscious.com. The taste had to be gotten used to. It wasn't my all time favorite, but it did seem to give this aging brain of mine a bit more clarity so that it could actually serve up words that I'd always known, but now have trouble getting them out my mouth.

Anyway...I decided to save a little money and use the new product my stand-by coffee has come up with. Lifeboost Coffee is the bomb. Seriously! Best coffee, even over my long love of Coffee Masters Highlander Grogg. They now have a mix of medium roast coffee with added Lions Mane and Chaga Mushrooms, called Cognition. And it is goooood! And, every dollar matters these days, right? So, because I have some left-over small canisters of the mushroom coffee that must be added to the regular coffee, I have started adding it to the Lifeboost Coffee that already has some mushrooms in it. Gotta use up what's left so it won't go to waste and eventually need tossed. If you understood what I just said, raise your hand. 

Actually, every dollar has ALWAYS mattered. And this is what brings me to the table this lovely, cool, Spring morning.

"Waste not, want not." One of Dad's favorite sayings. He had many, but this one was heard so often I don't think my brain will ever allow it to be deleted. I do believe it is why I save soooooo many things. Like CARDBOARD! Ugh! That's a totally different story. It's also why we live so frugally. 

But, I'm not alone in this. Dennis has shirts from the year he and Rusty (my nephew) went to Panama on a mission trip. The girls were small, so I'm thinking that was around 1986-87. Some 40 odd years ago. They still look great! If it's not thread bare, why replace it? 

Secret reveal: I threw a tee-shirt of his away (some many years ago), without telling him I was going to. It was a favorite of his. It was so fragile, it had tears in the shoulder seams, under the arms, and around the neck. It was basically a rag he shimmed over his head and wore proudly. It was comfortable, he said.

Side Note: I think there may be some left-over desire for not needing clothing that hails from the Biblical days of Adam and Eve. 

That particular shirt, I hated washing. He wouldn't let me throw it away. But since he had several....well...I thought I could get away with disposing of it while he was at work. I know. Pretty low of me. I totally didn't listen to that little voice inside my head that keeps saying, "Waste not, want not."

I still grieve over doing that. *wink *wink.

Be clean. Be a good steward of what you have. Take care of it and it will serve you for many a year. There is no shame in taking care of what one has.

Like our mode of transportation. We drive our vehicles until they leave us stranded by the roadside...several times. I'll never forget the party our bank had when I finally bought a new car. Going through the drive-through, my loan officer came to the window to congratulate me on the new purchase and to look it over. All the tellers, for as far as my eye could see, were cheering. 😂 "You deserve it, Mary!" That's what Cale said. Yep. We drive 'em until the wheels fall off. Waste not. Want not. The whole bank probably talked about the "old clunker Mary drives" while standing around the water cooler.

Being transparent here...I was becoming a little embarrassed driving into my business' parking lot. I felt it didn't match what a business owner should be driving. Yet..."Waste not, want not" kept flooding my brain. And it ruled over me. Thanks, Dad. 

Side Note: Two weeks later, while at my place of business, I get a call from D. "Hey. I'm stranded on Highway 43. Could you come get me?" So now...it was time to replace HIS worn out vehicle. And we did. Because we could. By never spending foolishly...

As one might suspect, there are many stories I could share along these lines. But today, it's about coffee, clothes, and vehicles. Only snippets, for sure.

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

P.S.

We learned frugality from our parents who went through the Great Depression of 1929-1939. Well, mine did, anyway. Mom was born in 1907; Dad in 1906. They married in 1925, and started a family. A family of 10 kids, plus one tragic pregnancy loss. The Great Depression lasted through 6 of my momma's pregnancies, and one loss. My parents used the land to provide vegetables and fruit...and raised chickens, cows, & pigs for protein sources. Yes...I came from a generation of survivors. Of truth tellers. Of hard workers. Of generous people. I am in awe of their resilience. 

Do We Ever Fully Let Go?

Yesterday, our oldest daughter, our amazing (in every sense of the word) Lindsey Erin, was over for a hair color retouch, with a few defining highlights thrown randomly (with distinct strategy) throughout that beautiful, and very curly mane of hers. I do love her curls...mainly because she knows how to care for them. She understands what North Carolinas humidity does to the porosity inside those lovely locks of hers, and prepares them for long-lasting beauty. 

But, it's a comment she made that has spurred this post. "I went by a road today where new asphalt was being laid, and it took me instantly back to Silver Dollar City," she said.

Back story (there always is one, right?). When our girls were little, we would visit Branson, MO., and it's theme park, Silver Dollar City. Built over a historical cave (the Marvel Cave), the park was known for hosting major festivals from Spring through the "An Old Time Christmas" festival. It was always the highlight of our trips. Most likely because of all the aromas that greeted us as we entered the park. The enticing smells of funnel cakes and Barbecue Brisket were smells we anticipated.

This place brought many giggles and big laughs, mostly because the girls loved tricking their momma on rides that took us through surprising falls and turns where water caused riders to come out looking like drowned kittens. Still can't believe how naive I was back in the day. Maybe it was because I trusted our little connivers a bit too much. "Hey, Mom. You and Dad can ride up front. That way you won't miss all the great things to see." Haha...very funny, you little stinkers. Verrryy funny. 🫣🙄🥴😂

Then there were the roller coaster rides that brought very high pitched screams as they plummeted riders to depths, twists and turns, without a moments notice. Well...if I'm being honest, there was a small amount of "notice" as the build up of anxiety increased with each beat of the heart. As the coaster slowly chugged its way to the top of the tracks where all one could see was sky...with no way back down to earths dirt where stability lived...where one could feel grounded again, without first falling at a high rate of speed on nothing but two tracks the rider cars hung to, trusting they would keep everything connected. One can see why I rarely gave over control of my life when visiting those monsters. Right? Unless, of course, my girls looked through me, all the way into my heart, with those beautiful puppy dog eyes. UGH! Kids! 😉❤️

But, the girls and their dad...they were in heaven. Even without Mom along for the rides they couldn't convince me to go on. Oh, I DO have stories about the rides at Silver Dollar City (and other themed parks...like Six Flags Over Texas). Great memories in the face of death by choice. And those usually had at least one Anderson family member present. Do the math...

So....about Lindsey's comment on smelling newly laid asphalt. It's a memory I suppose she'll always have nestled somewhere inside a cubicle in her brain where memories live forever. We all have that place, right? Didn't God preserve it for a reason? I think so. It serves us well through the years. 

Today, she was taken back to a time of innocence. A time of fun with her parents and sister, while visiting a very intriguing theme park that had soooo much to explore. With over 40 rides and attractions, it's been named the best theme park in America! And now I'm wanting to go for a visit, again. 😏

When we least expect it, a certain smell will bring to memory days gone by. Some are comforting, and some not so comforting. It's the "not-so-comforting" we don't like re-visiting. Yet, even those can make us stronger by helping us see just how far we've come. How much we have conquered. Then the happy ones pop up to say, "Remember all the fun times you had back then?" Memories to sooth us and cause us to remember love is forever.

Closing out this post, I would ask you: Doesn't it seem as if our brains are much like a computers mother board? Never lets go of a saved memory, right? 😉😂  That's probably why they call it the "Mother" board. We never let go. Most of the time we can bring to memory the things we are searching for, much like when we type in a question for our computer to answer something we have a need to know. Am I right? 

And then, there are days if feels as if our brain is out for lunch and can't be located. It closes for business, much like a computer will, all of a sudden, produce a blank and very black screen while we're in the middle of exploring. Or worse...having just finished a document not yet saved. 🤣

love and gumption...

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.