It seems like yesterday when I traced the delicate shell of my first baby’s ear. She was so tiny at just over five pounds. I was terrified I would break her. That was forty-three years ago. Twenty-seven years ago, I did the same thing with my second daughter. Thirteen years have passed since my first grandchild was in my arms and ten since I cradled her little sister. I thought it would be a long time before I got to hold a little baby again. But, along with Mr. FixIt came a brand new great grandchild and I’m in love all over again!
Some very observant readers picked up on something in my picture yesterday. My inbox lit up like a Christmas tree! I didn’t answer the questions directly and suggested they come back today to read my post. I love a little mystery. What was it they saw? A ring…a shiny ring…on my left hand!!! squeeeee
Yes, I have a ring! And in all fairness, so does Mr. FixIt. I gave him his first though. So here’s how it went down, what it means, and how we’re feeling about it.
Three thousand seven hundred sixty-four. That’s how many days came between these two pictures. On the left, the day I married Mr. Virgo. Is it any wonder that handsome man wanted to marry me??? Look at that fresh face, smooth skin, dark hair with just a smattering of gray. Where are the wrinkles around my mouth? Where is all the proof of my sorrow and my joy?
Hubby #2 is a pretty smart guy. Even so, when he was in medical school, he had to study really hard for the grades. Once he graduated, he started getting medical journals delivered to the house. JAMA…the Journal of the American Medical Association…was the biggest one. Lancet…the British equivalent. There were issues dealing with pathology, dermatology, cancer. There are a zillion of these magazines that doctors get and they have a name for them. Except for the top two or three, doctors refer to them as “throw aways”.
I think the first time I remember really looking at the stars was when Sputnik was orbiting overhead. My dad came and woke me up and said, “Come with me…I want to show you something.” He helped me into my coat and we stepped outside into the cool, night air. I was instantly alert, fully understanding this was unusual and an adventure. I shivered with the thrill of my dad sharing something special with me. That didn’t happen very often.
Sunday’s sermon was amazing, as usual, and I am always compelled to share my impressions. Pastor Justin Enoch of The Warehouse Church delivers a passionate message every Sunday that really speaks to me. I love this church! It’s contemporary, has a great praise team, and speaks to my spirit week after week. As I was driving to church Sunday, I felt this delightful anticipation that made me smile. I’ve never known a church where people are SO excited to attend. They give you “high fives” as you enter and as you leave. They hold up signs in the parking lot that say “So glad you’re here!” and “You can sit with us!” It is a reaching church and welcomes everyone, no matter where they are in their lives. I love that.
Two hundred and four hours. That’s how long it took to put out the fire at the old Ames shovel plant, now owned by IEI Plastics. As of 11:30 Sunday morning, the fire was declared “extinguished”. Now there is a 36 to 48 hour cooling off period before anything further can be done. Firefighters and assorted agencies will remain on site for another couple of days to monitor the scene. What you see left here is now the responsibility of the site owner to clean up.
I sat in the big leather chair yesterday and gazed around this circle of marvelous, beautiful women I have the honor of calling my friends. We all graduated from high school together…could it really be forty-six years ago??? We’re a diverse group. Some were jocks in high school. Some were wallflowers. Actresses. Musicians. Artists. Dancers. Some were heavy into books. Some were heavy into boys. We were shy…and we weren’t. We were scared…and we weren’t. And look at us now. These raven-haired beauties have glitter on their crowns now…whether we choose to show it or not.
It was twenty-seven degrees here at the farm yesterday morning when I sent Mr. FixIt off on a guys trip to North Carolina. This leaves me on my own till Sunday night. I love this man…I truly do. AND, I love my alone time on occasion, so I’m sitting here in the dining room, in front of Grandma’s favorite window, classical music playing softly in the background. It is lovely outside…nearly sixty degrees, sunny, the last of the autumn leaves clinging desperately to the branches like quivering field mice bracing for winter’s chill. It is warm and cozy in this little, old farmhouse and I’m snug as a bug in a rug.
I have really been getting into nostalgia lately. The other day I shared my Pinterest page of Childhood Memories. When I have a few minutes, I go on and add a few more. It’s interesting how Pinterest works. When you click on something, you soon see more and more pins in that category and it’s been a fun walk down Memory Lane. Some of the memories I could do without, though.
Prehistoric Google
IEI Plastics Fire, Parkersburg, WV
