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Showing posts with the label PG

Being "Fixed" . . . or at least Trying

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This popped up on my Facebook feed the other day. I sat and read the words over and over.  That is true, right? I looked it up . . . just to make sure.  Nope . . . nothing in the definition of "broken" suggests, to me  , that something can be fixed.  Well, that sort of sucks.  I am trying, anyway. To be fixed.  It is hard.  Phil took me away for a few days. He had to visit Miami Beach for work (rough, I know. Especially in the middle of January.) He convinced to me tag along and try to get some rest - to try and clear my mind and sooth my soul. I am so grateful for the opportunity to do that. To just . . . BE.  But sometimes "BEing" can be really, really difficult.  The weather was gorgeous. The drinks were plentiful.    The beach was truly . . . breathtaking.  And my soul . . . my soul rested.  But sometimes . . . when your heart is broken . ....

Oh, hello Love . . .

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Phil took Katie out to the bus stop this morning. He is in town this whole week, and it is amazing how calm my soul is because of that. While he'll be leaving for the office during the day, at least each night he is home with us. Yes, life is good. Today he came back into the house after seeing Kate off to school, and said that the frost was just beautiful on our rose bushes. He grabbed the camera, and snatched some photos of it. I love my husbands photos. He could be a professional photographer. Have I ever told you that before? The modern age of iPhone camera (and the convenience of it all) has often taken the place of our usual digital camera, so I feel like we've gotten a little bit away from the really skilled photos we've had in the past. But when he has the camera . . . beautiful things happen. Here is a shot of the roses this morning . . .   I played with it, a bit, in photoshop. But after taking a second look, the unedited version above (as you see i...

Her Little Wishes

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Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere. -Albert Einstein Last night, Ella told PG she wished he was a little boy, so she "could teach him how to blow bubbles and show him her Pokemon cards." She is an amazing soul, this sweet little girl. Where, dear friends, will your imagination take you today?

Doing It

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My friends . . . I think I'm going to do it. No. No. That's not right. I AM going to do it. Yes. That's better. I AM DOING IT. Yes. I am. Because, you see this . . . here . . . I'm right there . . . .at the tip . . . just ready . . . All I needed was an email from a blog friend to hand me the chisel. That's all it took. (Kiki, thanks for the chisel! I'm chippin'!) So, I have a dream. And in a couple of months, . . . to fill my soul - to be inspired - to learn - to dream. It's expensive, but after a few lousy work weeks, I decided that I needed to do something  to nourish this creative soul. I came home and had a long talk with PG about it, and within one hour, he found me outside and told me that he just booked my ticket. Like that. Poof! "Really?" I asked him . . . over and over. I couldn't believe it. Yes, I have a keeper in him. For sure. So, that's it. I'm DOING IT. I'm just at the tip of the iceberg...

I like what I like. Period.

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Years ago, when I met PG, he was a bachelor boy living in a second floor apartment above his dad and step-mom's home. He was as independent (as much as living in a second floor apartment above your parents home) as can be. He was young. And he was . . . troubled. I say this, because I very clearly remember opening his kitchen cabinet one visit, and seeing the unthinkable. Talking about this now is kind of hard for me. So, please bear with me. His cabinet was stocked with what had to have been 6 EXTRA LARGE (purchased from a warehouse club, like Costco) jars of . . . Miracle Whip. Gasp!!!! AAAAAAAAA!!!! THE HORROR!!!! It's amazing to me that we ever fell in love. Because,  my dears, I am a Hellmann's Girl. Always have been. Always will. I mean, I ask you . . . is there really any question as to which it the better mayo? Seriously. PG swears, to this day, that the Miracle Whip belonged to his room mate. To me, it's just as bad as if it belonged to him...