Author: admin

One of the first things I saw after shuffling myself to the kitchen this morning was a nearly used bottle of sprinkles. My first thought…” not today sprinkles, not today!” This day was not a sprinkle day.

I woke with a slight panic, than realized it was more sadness. For a minute I thought about the days I was plagued by anxiety and seasonal depression… I inhaled, exhaled and said a quick prayer that the feeling would go away. It did, as quickly as it had entered. Then the sprinkles…

Jammies on, coffee brewing (albeit decaf, this is surely some kind of joke). No matter how your day starts you must go on. Even on hard days. Don’t we wish that all days could be sprinkle days? Don’t we wish there was always celebration, laughter, and reward in the form of a giant cupcake made by someone who got to celebrate with us, someone who knew we loved extra frosting and lots of sprinkles! But, that’s not how it goes.

Life. Sometimes you don’t get to have the cupcake and certainly no sprinkles. But, you know what… sometimes you do. After all, the sprinkle container is nearly empty, and truth be told, it’s got probably half a dozen sprinkle container friends in the cabinet with it, they are all half full at best. This means that there have been lots of celebration days. There’s been plenty of sprinkle shakin’ going on, and you have to remember that on a day when you can’t see past the garlic powder and red pepper flakes.

As mentioned earlier, I woke up sad. Today one of my daughters best friends was going to be leaving us. The rainbow bridge was waiting, and this beautiful four legged loyal boy was about to cross, while we, his people stay behind. It’s gut-wrenching. So yep, we’re all sad here tonight. Hopefully in the next few weeks we will get back to remembering the fun, the playfulness and the memories that were all sprinkle days. By the way…the fact that the sprinkles are rainbow colored has not escaped me. Thanks for taking care of my girl Benny Boy~ we’ll take it from here.

Till next time~ Erin

It’s Christmas time!

One week from today the “littles” will wake up to see what Santa has brought, there will no doubt be excitement.
I recall when the “littles” were my kids, and we were deep in tradition. The tree was decorated by the four of us, boys did the lights, girls did the ornaments. Undoubtedly this meant a trip to the hardware store for something, eventually even that became a tradition.

We would recount the story of nearly every ornament as they were placed. Grandma painted those, that was from Aunties birthday party, that one was a gift from your teacher who kept booze in her desk drawer. The clear ornaments have paint we applied with plastic forks one year when we didn’t have money to buy shiny new ones. They are all equally important.

I was always the one in charge of wrapping the white ribbon around the tree, and the angel made of raffia ribbon was always put on last.

Next, our book of bucket list items. We would all sit and read the list we’ve added to for years, if we accomplished the dream that years date was written next to the dream. My daughter wanted to swim with the dolphins, my son wanting to crowd surf…etc etc.

On Christmas morning egg casserole always baked while we opened our gifts, and gifts never started without Dad and Mom having a cup of coffee in hand, no matter how early my daughter woke the house.

The last few years the littles haven’t been my kids, they’ve been my Grandkids. Things change, and with change brings stunning beauty if you’re willing to see it.

Our tree is smaller now ( the hubby tweeked his back lugging the old one upstairs years ago) We’re older and wiser now so we follow my moms lead and put the tree away with the lights still on each year.

The Grandkids anxiously await their turn to place an ornament on the tree, and each ornament seems to have a new life through their eyes. Now the stories start with “Your Daddy” or “Your Mommy” as they are told, and the bottom of the tree is heavy from the little hands being in charge. It’s perfection.

I still place the ribbon, but the older Grand Daughters convinced me to replace the old raffia ribbon angel, we now have a grand gal with white feather wings and an illuminated dress that changes colors. She’s really too grand for our tree, and she seems to know it as she leans forward looking like she wants to jump off.

A lot of our other Christmas decor remains unboxed. Instead, the kids have made snowflakes and paper chains that decorate the house. They remind me of days long ago.

Simple. Child like. Perfect.

The bucket list never gets unpacked. I guess because looking around here, there is nothing else that we could possibly want. ❤️

Till next time~ Erin

It wasn’t too long ago I spent the day “killin’ time.” I had made so many trips to Hobby Lobby during the day’s I stayed with my son in law and Grandkids that my phones GPS just assumed when I got in my car that I was heading into Macon to spent an hour looking at things I had no reason to buy.
On this particular day, I wasn’t having it. I drove and drove (for awhile in the wrong direction) and eventually ended up in a tiny town called Bolingbroke. I found a quaint shop to peak around in. Stumbling across a suitcase of quotes- I knew I had hit my very own jackpot, a full suitcase of dollar quotes typed out on thick card stock!
Looking back, I should have bought more than ten quotes, guess a girl has to stop somewhere. I am with quotes, like some gals are with shoes, makeup or bras. They are collectors of the ones that make them fall in love, stir them all up inside like brownie batter- my husband I’m sure is glad that my taste is all about the one dollar quotes in a suitcase. So am I.
This particular card hit me.

I’ve always believed it to be true.

“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.”- Robert Brault.

Let’s talk about… “Pudding with a crust.” This was the cook and serve pudding my mom would make. As it cooled, the top became crust like, and therefore us kids referred to it as such. That phrase is still going strong in our family tree fifty years later. I still make cook and serve pudding, I still call the top rubbery layer, “crust.”

Dancing while bread toasted… Now this would have been a fun memory if my sister and I had put this into motion, it’s made only more fun by the fact that it was our Dad, our giant hero among men, who would put his finger on his head and spin like a ballerina while his bread toasted and his daughters belly laughed.

Our “second parents” … these were my folks great friends. They never had children of their own, but, what they did have were friends with five kids who they could spoil, tease and laugh with. We were blessed that from time to time they would allow my sister and I to stay at their house with our cousins and the daughter of another close friend. They would teach us military cadences and have us march in lock step to the root beer stand down the street- than it was leap frog home and penny candies from the corner store till we were literally sick. We would later read Cinderella from the real Grimms’ Fairytale- anyone else recall that those step sisters were willing to cut off toes to fit in that damn glass slipper?
oh the memories….

I’m not sure what my kids would tell you their little things were… that’s up to them to recall and reflect. I pray they hold several in their hearts. Now that I’m blessed to have so many Grandkids, I have to say that I hope our everyday interaction will result in the small things becoming the big things some day. You can’t force the happenings- what people will remember and cherish are not the elaborate purchases, extravagant parties and alike. They’ll remember perhaps that you could spin like a ballerina, or that you were fed penny candy till you literally couldn’t eat another piece.
Today, reflect. Give thanks to those who have added to your little things.
Til next time– Erin

Not long ago, I discussed with a friend the difference between my eighties wedding and today’s weddings. This brought up some fun and interesting topics and gave me the platform for this post…..

My wedding photos didn’t get a single “like” on Facebook. There were no heart emojis…not a single comment.

For this, I am forever grateful.

I don’t know how brides nowadays handle the pressure, between Facebook and Pinterest there‘s a lot of pressures to be met. As much as I enjoy both platforms I think they’ve ruined today’s weddings.

This summer I celebrated thirty three years of marriage. It’s hard to wrap my head around that number. My Dad has always said “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?” If I look at time passed from that perspective, I honestly would say it feels like maybe twenty years had passed. It’s a blessing to be able to say it’s been thirty three (Thirty good, the other I shall refer to as character building)

In today’s Facebook/Pinterest world brides are sold the fairy tale early. There are boards being made that are beyond reality and certainly over budgets. The thought of it is depressing.

Brides in the eighties were not worried about what the world would see on social media, and can we all give a big “Thank you Lord” for that! Can we also all agree that eighties bridal wasn’t really Facebook worthy? So, if your biggest concern is what the world will see while viewing your photos on social media… seriously stop yourself. If at the end of the day you’re married to the person you couldn’t live without ~ your day has been a success.

My wedding was July 1986~ I was eighteen and my husband was nineteen. That in itself is a challenging way to start a marriage. The cards were stacked against us, boy is it good that we are both stubborn.
I do not recall having a budget for our wedding, to this day I have no idea what our wedding cost. I know I mentioned that I “kind of sort of knew a lady who baked“ she quickly became our cake lady. I made all the silk flower bouquets- except my own, and my mother in law hand wrote our invitations then they were printed at the printer. I paid for my own dress with my waitressing tips, and I really only recall one conversation about pricing for a banquet hall, it was new, beautiful and twenty two dollars a plate~ that wasn’t going to happen.

During our pre marriage counseling that was required by our church I remember the pastor asking “What do you think you’ll do on your twenty fifth anniversary?” I of course went immediately into party mode. I would plan a great party…yadda yadda …. when I got done with all the details the pastor just smiled and said “Just knowing you see yourself together in twenty five years is encouraging.”

The day of our wedding the air at our church went out. Our guests waited in a hot, sticky chapel. I still remember being anxious to “get on with it” as we waited for my husbands Great Aunt and Uncle to arrive. They of course finally did, and it was game on! As soon as the door to the chapel opened I remember seeing my husband at the front of the church – I saw no one else. I was immediately calm.

We drove to our reception in my folks old Cadillac, tin cans and all. Our reception was held in the top floor banquet room of a Chinese restaurant, there was no theme, no decor unless you count that each table had a table cloth. There would be food, we would sit, we would eat we would partake of under age drinking…we never gave the rest a thought. Phil, the owner of the restaurant had become a first time father that week so our guests pulled in and we’re greeted with a marquee that read “ITS A GIRL” in big block letters. This caused much laughter (and questions). I’m sure some of our guests were surprised that our first child, a son would arrive three and a half years later.

The wedding cake we had commissioned from the gal who worked out of her home fell short of what we expected. It had been all the rage in the eighties to have three cakes that connected by stairs (I have no idea why) our gal of course forgot our stairs, and there sat our pathetic unconnected cakes. We ate it anyway, not a word was spoken about the missing stairs.

I think back to my wedding day often, it was a great day! So many great family members and friends, but not a single thing about it would pass the grade today. There were few requirements back then. Good food, fun music, open bar… that was good enough. I wonder, what would I change from that day if I could? All I can say is I would have stood still more. I would have let it all sink in for just a few minutes~ because the day flies by.

So I look back, I have no regrets that there aren’t any close up photos of the lace on my dress, our rings or my rockin hat. No “first look” photo or anything you’d see today. Today, I can’t even find my wedding album, ya know the one I thought I’d treasure forever. I do have a small brag book filled with Polaroids my husband calls our “poor mans pictures.”

So, I’m glad I didn’t get a single thumbs up, but instead got the man of my dreams, and a lifetime of simple memories. It’s reflection like this that reminds me what’s important in this life that I’m so passionate about.

Til next time~ Erin

So, here I am trying to figure out the extended passion I’m looking for. This blog has become a lifeline to my soul- it has given me a reason to look at things going on around me longer, and more closely then before- it’s caused me to truly want the best for myself and others because I feel like a weight I had hanging around my dreams has been lifted.

Since writing again I’ve watched life more closely- I’ve paid attention to myself more closely. What I would usually brush aside I don’t- what used to rattle me, I won’t allow.
Here are a couple realizations about strangers, and openness.

Life has given me plenty of opportunity for reflection lately. I had my oldest child get married the first weekend of October. That’s an eye opener. Talk about reflection and having the Kenny Chesney song “Don’t Blink” playing on a continual loop inside your brain. Watching a child get married will cause such a phenomenon.
I also had my youngest child and her family move “home” from halfway across the country, a blessing we never thought could happen but is now a reality! To reference another country song “I’ve learned to never underestimate the impossible.”

Then, a phone call from University of Michigan hospital yesterday to report some not great news on my heart which has been giving me trouble since May….so yes, I’ve been on reflection overload.

So, let’s get back to looking at life closely, really closely. I know it’s easy to just keep things status quo. What’s not easy is to look back in a year, five years or twenty, and see that you’ve not lived your passion. Knowing that you only get one chance at life-ONE! Knowing you didn’t feel like you were worth the effort it would take to be passionate about life is…sad.

I submit exhibit one… I had to travel last month, two flights between Georgia and Michigan. My longest flight found me stuck next to a couple who wanted nothing to do with eye contact let alone conversation- so I napped with my headphones on. For my shorter flight I flew seated next to the sweetest gal, the same age as my daughter. She was on her way back from a business trip in Utah, and we struck up a conversation about work. She is in sales although she really wants to be a teacher. I told her my daughter is a teacher, and she and I spoke about how her mother had taught for thirty plus years, but it’s her mother who had encouraged her NOT to teach because she wouldn’t earn a “healthy paycheck. “
Toward the end of our flight this sweet gal says “I really should teach, right?” It was said out load, as a question but really not directed to anyone. I think she was throwing it out to the universe. She followed that with, “I mean who wants to go through life and not try to fulfill their passion.” She literally says this, to someone whose writing about “passion!”
Kismet!

Here’s hoping she does what her heart tells her to do. Since when was a paycheck with a bigger number on it worth more than a soul that’s fulfilled?

So, visualize your on a plane and you’re talking to a stranger you’ll probably never see again…what’s your best airplane seat realization? What do you admit out loud to strangers you’ll never see again? The realization might startle you. Things we speak out Loud are powerful.
Things we speak out loud to strangers are sometimes more powerful!

I submit exhibit two…. Recently I was invited to join a Facebook group for folks who have had open heart surgery. A week or so ago a gal asked the question “What do you not admit to your family?” The response was startling! I can’t recall how many folks commented, but it was well over one hundred- all willing to tell strangers things they wouldn’t tell their families. The reasons all varied, but very few people said they were an open book to their own families. Me included.

So listen to what it is you tell yourself…listen closer to what you tell a stranger.

Till next time~
Erin

When was the last time you wrote a love letter? 
The craft of writing your feelings out and following through on the delivery of your inner most thoughts is a dwindling practice. Folks don’t rush to their mailboxes hoping to find their names on an addressed envelope these days. One hundred years from now nobody will stumble across a treasure trove of letters that their grandparents wrote between one another- the future generations may never know how and why a couple stayed together over struggle or shared their fears…heartbreaking.

I’ve come to realize that most of my prized possessions are heartfelt words. I still have a few cards from years gone by, but mostly I love the messages that are thought out by the sender themself.  Sometimes Hallmark just doesn’t hit the mark. 

Thinking back, this love has evolved over a long period of time. As a child, my sister and I would walk to the local Hallmark store, we would spend forever looking at all the stationary sets, Snoopy, Holly Hobby, flowers, hearts, stars… they were endless. On one trip we bought ourselves wax sticks that you could light and let the wax drip onto your envelope – the wax sticks came with a metal seal and we could choose our design. We literally wrote letters to everyone we had know back in Illinois just to use these sticks. My love of letter writing was born. 
I kept in touch with friends who I had moved away from (dig deep and think back pre home computer, pre Internet) I’ve had friendships that have lasted my entire life because of the written word. It was just how you stayed in touch back then, and I’ve never really changed my ways.

 Later in life, my husband, then fiancé would write letters from boot camp, and I had vowed to write him every day. I believe I actually did- sometimes more than once. The letters I got from him still sit in my bedroom almost thirty five years later. They are in the same shoe box that they’ve always been in. I’m a sucker for nostalgia remember! 
I suppose I should go through them and put a few in frames- it might be fun to see them out. 

I have three framed letters on display at my house, one was written to my Mom from my husbands great Aunt. Nothing particularly “special” about it which to me makes it priceless. Her mention of my kids who ADORED her and she them. I found a way to fancy it up a bit years ago and framed it. My daughter was almost four, she’s now twenty seven. The test of time.  

Another is a typewritten letter from my sister in law who reached out to me awhile after my mom passed away. She sent me a beautiful note about God noticing the tears we shed and sent along a glass bottle. Since  the arrival of my Grandbabies the bottle has been put up, but the letter remains framed in my dining room.  

Last but certainly not least, a note my mom sent me during her cancer struggle. She was a strong, private woman who always told you how much she loved you, and now that she’s not here I get to see this framed message every day and be reminded of her love. 

I must say, I’m pretty dang good at reaching out. I love to send my Grandkids letters and I still write my husband letters. Sometimes silly ones that I’ll pin up in the medicine cabinet…sometimes serious ones about life and it’s struggles. These will someday be part of our story. 
So, in my pursuit of a passion filled life I’m reminded that it matters. It matters that the mailbox is sometimes filled with love~ not just bills. It matters that when someone is having a hard day you took the time to write an encouraging note. It matters that others feel your love for them in this moment in time when feelings are usually only electronically expressed. 
Generations from now your Great Grandkids will not be seeing your IM or your Snapchat. They will not know that you had triumphs and troubles that you reached out about.  They won’t know that the Grandma with the white hair and strict rules was once a romantic who dreamed of running away and living with Papa in a cabin by a stream and that he liked that idea too.      

  Let them find that out, give them something to discover. 
Today my friend, in an effort to stay connected and to show your love for your family do yourself and them a favor…Write a love letter.

Till next time- Erin

Sometimes first guesses are correct. I had a middle school teacher who used to say  “If you don’t know the answer, go with your first guess, it’s usually right.”
When starting this blog I was going to be me searching for what it was that would fulfill my soul. Because I was raised in a household where you worked and worked I had gone in my mind to all the businesses I’d love to try. The list is like rifle shot- scattered.
I’d love to own a candy shop/ bakery with my Grandkids someday. We’ve named it, spent hours talking about it and saved hundreds of  photos of things we must learn to make. Then there’s a horse trailer turned into a bar, building a retreat, possibly running a tree house rental, etc, etc- rifle shot remember. 
Here’s the thing, once the blog was up and running I realized that writing was the true passion and I began to share some stories, most can tie back to passion (much like a Seinfeld episode it all comes back around) but some you’ve all been gracious enough to just read and let it be about the love of the story. 
So… enough about all that- today we are doubling back to the original idea. Showcase some passions. 
Todays passion: Baking/Memories  These are my Cream-puffs~ the recipe my Mom used my whole life. Yesterday I spent the day baking because tonight is my son’s wedding rehearsal dinner and these babies are dessert! 

If you don’t want to read on and see the work in progress here’s the recipe- they are promised to make your house smell heavenly! 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees (I usually triple this recipe because I make my cream puffs BIG, and they always get eaten) 
1 cup water. 1 stick butter 1 cup flour 1 tsp vanilla.  4 medium eggs Tub of cool whip. 1 cup Powdered sugar. Cooking at 350 45 min -1hr
Boil water and butter~ once boiled add your cup of flour directly to the pot and mix quickly till it forms a ball/remove from heat. Add vanilla (I add extra because I love it but you do you) Your dough is now done time for eggs! Add one egg at a time stirring fully. 
That’s it!  You’re done with the hard part! 
Put on a cookie sheet in large drop fashion. I use a giant table spoon size scoop. You’ll bake these for 45 min-1 hr. I allow mine to cool on a rack when done then put them in an airtight container if I’m not serving right away- Once the Puff is cooked and cooled you’ll cut the top off evenly, scoop out all the soft dough from the lid and from inside the puff- fill with Cool whip (never use the stuff in the can, the filling will turn liquid on you)  Refrigerate until you’re ready to serve. 
Put a cup of powdered sugar in a small handheld sifter and generously sprinkle it over Puffs just before serving! Beautiful and delicious. 

So, here I am the day before my son gets married. I don’t know where the time has gone but I know I am blessed to be in this day. I know that I am missing my Momma being here to celebrate~ giving her a shout out with making her yummy treats. Maybe someday these treats can be served in my sweet shop. My hope is the recipe will be passed on to my kids and Grandkids, and that perhaps they’ll always be made on special occasions, and reflection will take place. 

I promise no tears fell in the dough, but I promise they were shed. 

Till next time- Erin 

Yeah!! It’s week five!

Welcome back all you passion seekers! I sure hope you’ve been able to stay on track saving coins, dollars whatever you had to save to reach your one hundred dollar goal!

As I mentioned last week, I finished up early. That had not been the plan but at some point you look around and exhale and realize you’ve got what you need. All in all I came in with a total of about ninety one dollars. By the time I threw in a candle and added in my rug which I don’t believe I mentioned ran me twenty four dollars. I’ve since taken away one of the storage boxes that sat atop my desk and I’ve added in a ceramic tile hand painted by my daughter when she was a child. This add was kind of a must as my Grandkids kept getting into it where it was and I was afraid of it cracking. I think it’s only fitting that my “Mom” tile resides on my desk. Motherhood has been my favorite roll ever. You’ll also notice a wooden sign given to me by my cousins daughter who I love, I wanted it displayed for me and for her, and for all who enter my house~ a little touch of fun!

I should also mention I did not buy the office chair, I stole it from work…It’s okay, I know the boss and he kind of loves me (how blessed is this girl?!?!) I haven’t really been back to work since my heart gave me trouble in March, let’s just say my husband and son have been picking up my slack and I fill in when I can. After I get my next procedure done, I’ll be staying home to babysit my two youngest Grand babies while the adults go to work, an honor I can’t put into words.

So what’s it gonna be, what are you going to put your one hundred dollars towards?

If you never take the first step, you’ll never get there. I’ve said it before but it bares repeating that you can do this and more than that you deserve a life where you wake up feeling excited about being alive. If you didn’t save money over the five weeks, a new month starts tomorrow and a new day is just hours away!! Renew yourself. Renew your spirit, renew your purpose and put yourself first.

With the traveling I’ve been doing lately I’m reminded that when the cabin pressure drops in a plane, you’re told to secure your mask first in order to be helpful to others. Help yourself!

Make it soon!

Till next time~ Erin

Week four is here, how are you doing with saving?
I must say that I’m already done shopping! Ahead of schedule and under budget (can you tell I get a bit impatient) but here’s why.. it’s my writing area!

I’ve wanted one for years and didn’t pursuit it- ya know why? I would have actually had to acknowledge that I had been putting my dreams last. I would have had to make some real changes in the household dynamic, and honestly I don’t think I was ready.

I have my comfort zone, my zone is nice and safe, all the people in my zone know me, I know myself there. I know what my roll as a Wife, Mom, Mother in law and Grandma is, and to shake that up for me was scary and made me anxious. But, than a switch flipped. It really did. I felt suddenly empowered to take on a blog (WOW, was that a misguided power) suddenly I really didn’t care who approved- that’s not to say I don’t care what I post- I post with all my heart, and I throw in a dash of vulnerability, but I did myself a favor and put a post it note next to my desk with these two words “Personal blog.” That was it. Two words to keep it in perspective. I reminded myself that I was doing this for ME to fill my soul, and sure I want you to come along on the journey with me and find your passion~but if you choose not to, I understand that my pursuit of a passion filled life doesn’t cross over into your pursuit, and that’s ok.

…back to the challenge. It’s week four and I’m done. I wasn’t in need of the extra week to save more money as there is nothing else I need for my space. My old dresser has been moved and the old garden gate will have to await a new home~ I love my space.

I rounded out my purchases with a new mouse and mouse pad. I’m actually not a big fan of pink, but I wanted the writing area to shout that it was girlie and by that I mean mine– so I went with pink. I found a white fuzzy rug- a bit small but doable and I searched down a candle with a yummy scent.

So, here it is, home of “The last piece of pie” brings a tear to the eye! 💜

Where are you in this pursuit?
Have you figured it out yet?
What can you put one hundred dollars towards that will ignite your passion and push you to follow your dreams?

Till next time-
Erin