Sunday, March 03, 2024

March Madness

I am not a basketball fan. Not even close. But, I am doing a March Madness of sorts. 

Friend France mentioned that she was doing this thing she was calling "March Madness". Her goal is to walk/exercise at least 30 minutes a day for 30 days. That sounds like a solid goal. It sounds like a lot, but why not give it a shot. 

So I told France I was all in. 

I'm a believer that the Universe tells us things all the time. If only we just listen. I could give you a dozen examples of how that's played out in my life, but I'm sure you've experienced. That gut feeling. The turn right instead of turn left gut punch you get every now and then. I have that all the time. Sometimes I listen. Sometimes I don't. I've gotten two tickets from not listening. 

I took Friday off to run some errands and to just generally have an extra day for the weekend. I do it every month. I take one Friday off a month. Call it mental health adjustment. This Friday I wanted to do some comparison shopping on chicken. (Someday I'll tell you about my weird chicken quirk I have). 

My dad love Sprouts and so I figured I'd swing over to Sprouts and see what they have and what their prices are. Next door to Sprouts is my old gym Planet Fitness. I've been meaning to go in and cancel my membership there since I have a member ship at 24 hour Fitness now. 

As I was walking over to the gym I thought, you know why not get on a treadmill. You've got tennis shoes on. You've got a bra on. You've got music. What's stopping you from walking for 15-30 minutes. AND you've got a trip looming in which you need to get into some type of shape. 

Decision made. I walked into Planet Fitness and expected bells and whistles to go off indicating I hadn't been there in a thousand years. Nothing like that happened. 

I found a treadmill and walked. I turned up the incline at some point and just people watched and walked. It was all over in no time. 

Got off and left. 


When I got home I was chatting with France and our other friend Anandi and mentioned this whole thing and that's when France told me about her March Madness plan. I was all in. 

Having accountability with someone else makes a big difference with me. It amazes me I can't be accountable for myself. I am at work. I am with other aspects of my life. But when it comes to working out goals, I have a bucket full of excuses. 

France and I have a plan. Anandi wanted in too. She lives out of state so we made a plan to send photos of our walking/exercise for the day. 

I've walked two days in a row now. Which for most people sounds funny - but when you work from home and have no reason to leave, it's easy to not walk too far. 


So here we go. Let's see what March brings us. I have 76 days before our big Mediterranean cruise and if Portugal was any indication of how out of shape I am to travel, then I really need to get going. I can do this. I will do this. I even bought a walking platform to have at home. That should really help. 

Friday, February 16, 2024

ScrapbookPaLooza

Motivation is something that is required to do certain things. Getting to the gym, for example, requires motivation. Hell, getting dressed to go to the gym takes motivation. I lack that motivation. 

Where I don't lack motivation is scrapbooking. It's my creative outlet. I use it to decompress from the work week - and most recently (December) the workday. 

See what happened was, I realized I watch too much TV. I work in front of the TV all day. It's usually on and is there to make noise. I don't like working in silence. It reminds me that I live alone and work alone and that I have way too many conversations with my cats. And so, because of the TV thing, I decided I wanted to turn it off when work was done and either read or scrapbook. 

The first week when work was done, I went into the scrapbook room. I didn't want to work on any big projects and just wanted to "play around". That's when it dawned on me that I could scrap random photos. Basically, scrap photos that really don't mean anything, may or may not have a story, but it would allow me to scrap, work on my skill, use up my stash and be creative. It was so liberating to realize that I didn't have to "have a reason" to scrap something. 

And so started the Random Scrapbooking Project. 

But wait, I needed to be "organized" in this randomness. And yes, I do realize organization and random are antonyms. This is the part where when I explained it to my BFF she rolled her eyes at me and my process minded self. After putting some thought into it, I wanted to "process" it out so that I could stay focused in the randomness. I know. I know. When I say it out loud it sounds crazy, but I promise you it made a huge impact on how focused it's kept me. 

I have about 200 sketches for scrapbook layouts. These are sketches (or other scrapbooker pages) that I've collected. Not every page is a brand new creation. Many times, I take inspiration from what other people have done. My page is never an exact duplicate of their page, but it gets me inspired. Those sketches are numbered in a folder on my computer.

Each week I select 5 random numbers - 1 through 200, and those are the layouts I make. Then I have to find photos to use.  Being that these are random, it's really easy to do. Plus, I have a thousand cat photos to pick from. 

From there I gather the supplies I want to use and I get busy.  In most cases, in a week I'd do those 5 pages and then some. For December I did what's called December Daily - well my version of it. I came up with 31 "topics" and I did a page with a photo representing that topic for each day. It was a blast and I used up a TON of Christmas supplies. But December Daily really helped create this habit of going upstairs every day and scrap a page or two. 

Enter January. My department at work reorganized and put me in a Director position of the Project Management Office. That means my team of PMs are scattered across the globe. Which translated into me starting work at 6am most days (and one day at 5:30am and one day once a month at 5am). That means I get off work by 2 or 2:30. THAT gives me several hours in the scrapbook room with daylight. (I don't like to scrap when I have to turn on a light. It changes the colors of papers and embellishments).

Here we are in February and every day I could I go up in the scrapbook room and do 2 or three pages. Here's just a small example of what I've done since Jan 1. 



I realize as I look at this one now that I've
not added any title or journaling. This was
my grandparents 25th wedding anniversary.






You can see how random they all are and how most don't really belong in any "project" scrapbook. 



My goal this year for scrapping is 365 pages. It's not even the end of February and I'm at 79 pages already. I might have to adjust my goal to make it harder. 

What I've noticed after scrapping each night is I feel very accomplished and satisfied with myself for not sitting in front of the boob tube. Now, if I can get just a little of that motivation to rub off in the "getting to the gym" goal. 

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

What were your parents like?

Welcome to another installment of "My Life Story". The card today asks what I assume would be an easy question for most, but may be a bit complicated for me. 

The question "What were your parents like?"

You see I've had two sets of parents with Mom as the common denominator. 

Let's start with the early years. Mom and my original father, Don, were married young. Mom was just 17 when they married. That was back in 1964 - they did that then. Don was her high school sweetheart and they seemed quite happy. 

Then Don got sent to Vietnam. While there my mom gave birth to my sister, Melanie. Then he came home and then he went back again. When returned I was born 9 months after. 

The point of telling you about Vietnam is that his tours changed him. Mom used to say that he left part of his soul there and she thought it was the nice part of his soul. 

He wasn't a great father to me. He flirted with every female he came in contact with and I remember as a kid that embarrassed me. I can't even imagine how mom felt about it. He was not a nice man at times either. We were disciplined with a heavy hand. By today's standards you might call it abuse. We were certainly mentally abused. I don't really remember him having nice things to say to us. We used to get the belt for the oddest, and most insignificant things. I remember this one time Melanie and I both got it because we folded a kitchen towel wrong. 

He tried and I think he did the best he could with what he had with him. I often wonder what he would have been like if Vietnam hadn't happened. 

Mom and him divorced in 1979/80 and that's when the next dad comes into play. 

Mom went out on a set up date with Al Wraspir sometime in 1980. I don't remember who set them up, but it was a double date and they hit it off. They married in Sept 1982. Dad adopted me right after that. I officially went from Jennifer Miller to Jennifer Wraspir. 

Dad was an amazing dad. He had his issues too, like he was stubborn and was pretty opinionated at times. But he was also kind, he loved his family, he worked hard, he had a strong will, and treated me as if I was his. He never treated me like a step daughter and instead took the time to help make me a person who can be a valuable part of society. He worked for Boeing for 47 years and I think wished I followed in those footsteps. While I worked at Boeing, I wasn't meant to be there for that long. 

He always had a ton of friends around him. Many were his hunting buddies. We spent many nights at other friends' houses having dinners and such. 

He taught me to love cooking. Mom did too for that matter. But dad had the curiosity to try and cook different things. He LOVED food. Tomatoes were among his favorite foods. I don't have enough space in the blog to list all his favorites. 

He was a wonderful dad and I consider myself very lucky. 

Mom - what can I say about her that I haven't already said in this blog. She was my best friend. Not always, but definitely as an adult. As a teenager, like most, I wasn't a fan of her. She enforced rules and followed through with consequences. I'm grateful now, but 14 year old me was not. 

She was kind, she too loved her family. She LOVED dogs and her grandkids. Hell, she loved all my friends and adopted them to be "her kids". She too worked at Boeing and was there for 37 years (or something like that). She had a tougher time there trying to progress because, well, she was a woman in a man's world. 

She loved to travel and cook like Dad. They both, together, taught me about how important seeing the world is to better understand, and tolerate, other cultures. "Tolerate" was dad's word and I don't think he meant it as it came out the same way it sounds today. 

Overall, I consider myself very lucky to have had such great parents. They were strict but they loved me. They helped me become the person I am today. 


I miss them both every day. 

Thursday, January 18, 2024

Where were you born? Is that where you were raised?

Welcome to the next installment of me documenting my life. I was amusing myself earlier this week while sketching out this topic by reminding myself that the purpose of documenting your life is often to leave some part of you behind for your kids. Since I have no kids, then the rest of you get to enjoy these little trips. 

The question on today's card is "Where were you born? Is that where you were raised?

I was born in Houston Texas, Herman Hospital to be exact. 
Photo from TrailBlaze Travels

My first dad was in the military and stationed there. I don't think we lived there much longer. And I've never been back. Well, that's not completely true. We visited my Great Grandparents in Texas at some point in my life. Only once that I remember. And since then the only other time I've been in Texas was to be stuck in the Dallas airport for 8 hour due to weather. 

Is that where you were raised? 
This is an easy, and yet, complicated, question. The short answer is no. The long answer is a list of places I've lived that will take you a minute or two to read. 

On my 40th birthday, as part of the celebration, I thought it'd be fun to do some Jenn Trivia. One of the questions was how many places had I lived in my 40 years. The catch was every address counted. Not just the different cities or countries, but every address I lived in. 

The answer: 27

That's right, I had lived in 27 different places by the time I was 40. Now that I'm 55, that number is a whoppin 28. The first part of my life I moved frequently. Then I found a place I liked and lived there for 12 years. The longest I ever lived anywhere. Now I'm in this new place (been here for 3 years already). 

Back in the day, I'd move every year. The places I was living would raise my rent and I figured if I was going to pay more rent, I might as well live someplace nicer. It got amusing for my friends who all found other things to do the last weekend in July every year. 

Places I've lived since Houston - Not in any order: Albuquerque, New Jersey, Lancaster (3 different addresses), Washington (I lost count of how many addresses - Kent, Renton, Bellevue, Redmond three times, Lynnwood (twice), Switzerland, Saudi, Mexico, etc

I have mixed emotions about all these locations and all the moving. It makes me feel a little gypsy esk at times. The benefit has been that I was able to make new friends quickly. The downside was you never really created deep, lasting relationships with those friends. 

Moving, I feel, also broadened my view of the world. Living in foreign countries allowed me an opportunity to see, and understand different cultures. Eat their food, see their sights, talk with their people, and immerse myself in their culture. 

What about you? Where were you born and were you raised there?

Sunday, January 07, 2024

2024 - Week 1 Done!

Phew. I wasn't sure I was going to make it. The first week of 2024 was a killer of a week. 

Having a shorter week sounds like a good idea at the time, but it ends up being that you still have 40 hours of work to do in only 32 hours. I managed, but just barely. 

In 2017 - 2018 I had the shittiest time at work. I had a small team and WAY too much work for a single team. Myself and another PM colleague spent hours, hours and hours at work weekly. For the first time ever, I clocked over 65 hours at a job for a week. I was getting tired. I was getting burned out. 

I was short tempered with everyone. I had dreams of finding a new job - but God knows I had no time to find said job. I was in a hamster wheel and didn't know how to get out.

I spoke with my boss at the time about it. He didn't seem to hear me. He wasn't interested in how much work was on my plate. He was, instead, interested in the data and how we could use the data. He was in the office late each night and so it seemed it was natural. He was part of the problem and I wasn't aware at the time. 

I read articles about how to communicate with a boss that wasn't listening. I tried those suggestions, and nothing. No change. 

I was on the brink of just walking away. And then we had a reorg.

Saved by the reorg. I went back to work for a former boss and he heard me. He listened. He saw the hours and he got me help. Phew. Just in the nick of time. 

This last week ... nothing like that. Not even close. But it had me thinking about those days now passed. I realized how thankful I was to just be "busy" not overwhelmed. 

We're on the brink of a reorg at work too. I'm about to become the Director of Courseware Project Managers. Not quite a PMO, but close. I'm a bit nervous. A bit scared. And a whole lot of excited. 

I'm going to be managing new people that I know, but haven't had much of an opportunity to work with. I'm clean slating it too. They all come with baggage - good and bad - and I'm going to do my best to just start with a clean slate for each of them. Including the two PMs I already manage who are staying with me. 

The current company has invested in Advanced Leadership training for managers. I think this is a great time to put a lot of that to good use.

Next week will be busy just getting situated. The new team is going to enter the "forming" stage of Tuckman's ladder of new teams. This is the hardest stage for me if I'm being honest. I often want to just skip ahead to the "norming" stage where we are all just productive. 

I'm going to be busy for several weeks moving forward too. I have to get to know these new employees and their jobs. On top of learning all that, I need to get to know them. That's the easy part. 

All this to say, I'm ready for this challenge. I won't ever go back to working 65 hours again, but I'm ok with putting in hours and hard work for a company that values you. Not that the other company didn't value me, they just didn't seem to care that I was overwhelmed. THAT is what I won't let happen again.

In other none work related news, the Crabby Ladies went to see Boys in the Boat yesterday. We read the book in 2014 and it was one of our favorite books. The movie did it justice. 




Saturday, December 30, 2023

55

I'm 55!

I'm 55!

I'M 55!

I'm gonna keep saying it until I believe it. 

I'm 55!

How? How did I get to be 55? (That's a rhetorical question. I know how).


Birthday's rarely bother me. It's a number, not a mind set. And up to 55 I've been doing ok with that thought. But 55 is a number to me. A big number. 

When I was younger, 55 was when people retired. It's when they started getting ready to spend their hard earned cash doing the fun things in life. AARP called and sent you a card. It was your "next part" of your life. 

That's not true these days. It may not be true for me ever. 

And that's another thing, when I think about my life, as I do too often, I like to think that I've done pretty well. I've lived a good life and plan on continuing to live said good life. 

I have had steady jobs. Each one teaching me what I like, or dislike, about working, the people I work with and managers. I believe I'm at the pinnacle of my career and you know what, I'm ok with that in a way I never thought I would be. The ambition is no longer to climb the ladder, but to continue being consistent in my work life. Learn, grown and just be. That's my attituded now. 

I have see the world. Oh boy have I. I've been to places I once only imagined I'd visit. I was never sure after leaving TASIS if I would ever see Europe again. Now I'm seen the majority of Europe and still have more to see. I'm so very thankful for being about to travel and see the world, learn about history, learn about different cultures and experience things that are magical. 

I have friends who love me and who I love in return. In you're 20's you have a gaggle of friends and you believe they are family. Some of those friends stay with you as your grow, but are no longer family. Some of those friends are by your side constantly and stay in your life well into your 50's. Those friends stay as family and welcome the "Wraspir" last name. They keep you level, they call you on your BS, they often give you crap about anything, they love you, they hug you, they eat your food, they listen, they will be there for you. I'm very grateful for those friends. They know who they are and if they don't, then they aren't those friends. 

In 1998 when my Aunt Jean took me to buy my first scrapbook stuff, I never would have guessed that that 30 year old would be the scrapbooking queen she is today. My craft has really come a long way. I love scrapbooking and love even more that it is what settles my mind. The creativity is something I crave and what better way than to create beautiful pages. I've learned a lot. I've taken a ton of courses and have made more pages than I can even count. I shudder to think about the amount of money spent in this hobby, but it is what it is. 

And that's another thing at 55 that I love. I no longer care about what people think about me. I used to really care and used to make sure I was almost perfect so that I could get approval. Now, I approve myself. Social media has made it difficult for people today to be ok with who they are (by "people" I really mean the younger generation) and for me, I'm so very glad that I've grown past that. I'm comfortable in my own body - even if that body is larger than I want it to be. 

And that's another thing at 55, losing any pounds takes significant effort. Sheesh. It's like my 55 year old body loves all those fat cells individually and do not want to let them go. 

And that's another thing at 55, my eyes are having a harder time seeing anything. I have glasses I need to wear when I'm reading or on the computer or reading a menu. I used to marvel at my grandparents wearing their "readers" around their necks dangling from a chain. I'd wonder why they just don't get glasses. Now I get it. I don't need full glasses. I just need ones to make things closer up easier to read. 

So another year has come and gone. I've been on this little blue marble for 55 years. Fifty-five! 5 - 5. I'm not sure how that happened. But at 55 I know I can reflect on the past and look forward to a future that is still bright, a little scary, but bright. 

Friday, December 29, 2023

Top 10 Favorite Books of 2023

Here we are at the end of 2023! It's been quite a year of reading for me. 

I've read 45 books (changed my goal from 50 to 45). Only one I really struggled to get through and think I skipped most of it ( West With the Night by Beryl Markham).

Of the other 44 there were really obvious standouts.

 
All these books I loved and some I REALLY loved. If a story stays with me, I know it was told well, and it had the right amount of plot to keep me interested enough to invest part of my brain to remember. Here are my thoughts on each - in no specific order of like. 

By Fiona Valpy
This is another WWII book told from a bit of a different area. The family escapes to Casablanca - which apparently a lot of Europeans did. I laughed and I cried my way through this book. It's beautifully written with the present and the past. 

The author bounces you between two characters in two different time periods. What I liked about it is that I never felt lost. I felt always connected to both characters and didn't feel confused. 

By Heather Webber
This book came recommended to me from my friend Heather. Her recommendations have never let me down before, and this one was no different. 

Another magical book. The main character has to come back to bury her grandmother and decides to stay and keep her grandmother's cafe opened. The story is told in a way that makes you want to go to Wicklow and eat some of the pie sold there. Beautifully told with a solid plot and characters. 

By Jean E. Pendziwol
This book kept me engaged the entire time. It's a great story told in way that slowly unfolds. It has a mystery element to it and I found myself without a clue how it was going to end. 

By T.J. Klune
You have to have an opened mind and like "fantasy" books to like this one. The children are creatures and if that's not your cup of tea, then this book you may not enjoy. 

Thankfully, for me, this is my cup of tea and I loved Loved LOVED this book. It's such a wonderful story and message about being ok with stepping out of your comfort zone. The characters are all loveable and you want nothing more than to know more about them. 

The sequel to this book is coming in 2024.

By Kristin Harmel
If I had to pick a top 3, this would be in it. Another Heather recommendation and another book I fell in love with . 

A woman in WWII starts working for an organization that transports Jewish children out of France and safely into another country. She starts writing down their names so that perhaps they can be reunited with their families after the war. 

I love WWII stories and this one was so heartwarming under horrible circumstances. The characters were all well defined and the story reveals itself slowly and in a very thought out way. 

I closed this book and just sat thinking about the bravery, the courage, the foresight that these characters had. 

By Lisa Jewell
Whoa. Lisa Jewell does it again. She can tell an intriguing story that keeps you hooked and causes you to stay up way too late to read "just one more chapter". 

I had no idea where this book was going and I really wasn't sure how it would end. It gripped me from the first chapter and kept me hooked throughout. You cannot go wrong with a Lisa Jewell novel. 

By Alison Ragsdale
This was an accidental read for me. Amazon served it up as a "If you liked that, you'll like this" and it was free so I decided why not?  And I'm glad I did. 

It's a lovely story about finding yourself after tragedy. Making hard decisions for yourself in order to move you forward. I found I fell in love with all the characters in this book and had that warm, loving feeling after I read it. It starts sad, but made me smile in the end. 

By Barbara Kingsolver
This Pulitzer Prize winning novel really dug into my soul. It's a story about addiction in a very poor part of our country. The main character swears he won't become an addict like his mother, then due to an injury he does. I found myself yelling at him telling him to NOT take that pill from the doctor. 

I found I got mad at several characters. I was leery of several characters. And I fell in love with some characters. 

This book stuck with me. It was a book club read for November, and I still find myself thinking about the characters and wondering how they are today. By the way, it's fiction. 

This was my pick for January 2024 book club. I choose it after Matthew Perry passed. I had bought this book when it was first released and there it sat on my TBR list. Then he tragically died. It felt like the right thing to do. I wanted to hear his story. 

I know reading bios that the "stories" are all as true as the author want you to believe. But man did he struggle. Reading this on the heels of Demon Copperhead made me feel like I was an addict. I felt that unless you've been in those addictive shoes, you couldn't possible understand. I have a stronger understanding of the struggle, but I can't even imagine. 

His candid stories of his addiction and how he struggled really hit home for me. Showing that vulnerability for him must have been hard. He was my favorite "Friend" and I felt bad for the life he lived as an addict. 

By Judy Blume
If you're a girl and a preteen in the late 70s, you probably remember reading this book when it came out. It was all the rage amongst my girlfriends. One read it and swore it had all the answers about getting your period. Of course it didn't, but what did we know? They rereleased this book and did a movie last year and I wanted to read it as an adult. 

It hits different as an adult. Not the greatest story, but it was heartwarming and really took me back to my childhood. That's why it's on my list this year as a favorite. It's a classic to me.


Friday, December 15, 2023

How'd You Get Your Name?

Well, here we are, mid-December. Christmas is just 10 days away. How'd that happen? 

I've been keeping myself busy doing December Daily scrapping. Basically 31 photos with themes you come up with. Then you scrap those pages and tell the story. I've got 6 more pages left to do for December. 

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about my life and the stories I want to leave behind. I had a book I had started answering the questions. Most didn't really apply to my life later in life, so I stopped once it had an entire section on "your married life". Rather presumptuous I think. 

Every day I wish I could ask mom one more question about her life. I've been looking through old photos and have no idea on why or what the story is behind them. 

My grandma Spaid once told me that as you age you think more and more about the life you lived. You review it and think about what could have been, what has been, and what's still to come. She wasn't wrong. And that's why I wanted to document some of my own stories. 

A friend gave me this card set. She saw it on Instagram and thought of me immediately. She thought about how much fun I'd have sharing my stories (whether anyone reads them or not). 


And so today I start with question one: How'd you get your name?

This is another one of those times I'd like to ask my mother to confirm what I think she told me. 

First, I was supposed to be a Jonathon. Her and my dad were sure I was a boy and they had not decided on a girl name. Mom wanted to name me Christina Noel because of how close my birthday was to be to Christmas. Dad said no. 

Dad wasn't home when mom went into labor. One time she said she took a cab, the other she said a friend drove her to the hospital. I'm inclined to think a friend took her. 

Anyhow, when I came out as a girl, they didn't have any names. Mom had heard the song "Jennifer" by Bobby Sherman and had the song in her head, so Jennifer it was. 

My middle name is Joy. And apparently there was a good family friend who lived across the street from my grandparents Miller whose name was Joy.

UPDATE: My Aunt Renee corrected me on the name Joy. I had it wrong. Per Aunt Rene: 

"Joy" came from our cousin Joy. Joy was given to you because you guys lived in Texas where our cousin Joy and Aunt and Uncle lived. Joy is your second cousin." 

I was never a Jenny. Ugh. Blech. Gross. Don/Dad hated Jenny and so it wasn't a nickname ever given to me. I was always Jennifer or JJ. 

Later in life, for a short period, I roomed with several Jennifer's in one room. One was already a Jenny. The other was a Jen with one "n", so I opted for Jenn with two "n's". I prefer Jenn over Jennifer. Jennifer makes me feel like I'm in trouble. 

Dad (Al) later called me J. So J became a shortened name for me. Really only he and some Wraspir relatives call me J. 

Other names I've had in my life:
Fennifer Misery
Wroscoe
TOJ (The Other Jenn)

My name has been spelled with one n (Jenifer) many times. I can't even count how many. It's also been spelled Jenipher from a Third Country National in Saudi. That spelling made me smile.

I was once Jennifer Joy Miller. Then when mom and dad got married, I took the Wraspir last name when Dad adopted me. Then I was Jennifer Joy Wraspir. And that's what it shall be for the rest of my life. 


Thursday, November 23, 2023

Happy Thanksgiving!

That's a wrap. Another Thanksgiving is over and done. Phew. I always forget how much work it is. I tell myself it's not that much and yet I'm always exhausted when it's done. 

As is tradition, the festivities started with clam dip. It's tradition. Mine never tastes as good as Mom's did, but I still make it every year. 


Next the bird goes in. I cook mine in a bag every year and I'm so glad I do. It turns out perfect every time. Juicy and flavorful. This year I stuffed it with onions, carrots and celery. I have not idea if it makes it better or not, but I can say, this bird was delicious. 


The rest of the meal was rounded out with carbs galore: dressing; honey skillet corn, and mashed potatoes and gravy. Oh and a roll, because why not? 



I didn't make broccoli casserole this year and I gotta say, I missed it. The meal didn't feel quite right without that darn casserole. But the corn is so delicious. I made it for the hunting wives dinner and I thought it would make a nice side for turkey too. Maybe next year I'll make both. 

The usual crowd was here; Janet, Ashely, Claudia and her mom Gisela.

Now the rest of the weekend will be full of taking down fall and putting up Christmas. Saturday we're going to the Holly Jolly bizarre in Snohomish. It's become tradition. 

So now that all the specifics are done, let me just say, this year I'm very thankful for all I have and for all the people around me. I have a pretty darn good life and fantastic people in it. I'm thankful for all of it.

Sunday, November 19, 2023

Missing Stories

Not long ago I stumbled onto a hard drive that belonged to mom. On it I found folders and folders of photos. Amongst those folders were so many of my baby pictures I've never seen. 

Being the second child, I have long since come to grips with having fewer baby photos than my older sister. I get it. The first on is exciting. The second is - well - the second. And, to be fair, we didn't take photos in the late 1960s like we do today. Far from it. 

So having found these photos I knew immediately I wanted to scrapbook them. I wanted to begin at the beginning and work my way through the 70's and 80's of my life. 


It has been so much fun looking at these photos. There's only one problem. I have no stories to go with them. And the main story telling, Mom, isn't with me to tell me. 

I'll admit this thought made me sad. I have so many questions about some of the photos I've found. Like this one? Why? What is the story with the McDonald's hat? I know it's 1969 but I haven't a clue why my sister and I are wearing these hats. 

I've scrapped a handful of the photos. And without having stories it makes it very hard to journal on them. I could say on every page, "I don't know the story here but..." 

And that got me thinking about making up my own stories. I could, technically, rewrite my whole childhood and no one would know. That poses an interesting question about rewriting your history and whether it's the right thing to do. Truth be told, I'm not creative of a storyteller so doubt I'd come up with anything overly interesting. 

I decided today that without the stories, that's going to have to be ok. Scrapping the photos has to be enough. My family who will look at these pages won't care that there's no story (I hope). Then once I'm gone from this world, no one will care either so having a story isn't as important as I want it to be. 

But dammit...I want the stories. I want to sit with mom and look at each photo and ask her to tell me what was going on. It hurts deeply that I can't. It will be my one big regret in my life that I didn't ask more questions about her stories and mine. 


Some stories I know, or do I? I see photos like this one of me sitting on a desk at my grandparents house. I have fond memories of playing on that desk. I have not so fond memories of having "time outs" on that desk too. I wonder, frequently, if the memories I have are real, or are the one's I've created BECAUSE of this photo? I'll never know for sure. 

So if you're reading this, and your mom and dad are still her, sit with them and get the stories. Take the time to ask questions about the stories of your childhood and theirs. Write those stories down. Because one day, you won't have them there to ask. 

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Happy Halloween!

Yes, it's here Halloween. I have the bowl of candy out on the porch with a note that says, "Help yourself." I don't care if someone takes the entire bowl of candy or just one piece. I just don't want them to ring the doorbell - drives the cats crazy. 

As Halloween got closer I started looking through photos of past costumes. Here's what I know for a fact, we hardly took Halloween photos. And I don't have too many memories of my costumes growing up. 

I was able to find this gem from 1970. Frightening for sure. Those plastic face masks were horrible. You couldn't breath and the elastic chord would dig into my noggin behind my ear. 


Most of our Halloween's we had to wear snow suits under our costumes. The years in North Dakota and Great Falls. I remember it being cold. 

In 1978 I had this little green dress with suspenders. It reminded me of Raggedy Anne. And so...

I upped my game a little too with this one. I wore roller skates when we went trick or treating. That was a mistake. Carrying around Raggedy Andy with me was also a mistake. It got hard to juggle the doll and a pillow case of candy. 

I have zero recollection of who I went out with. We were relatively new to the area and I don't recall if I had any friends by Halloween. I don't remember mom or any chaperone being with us either. It was in Lancaster California so there wasn't a need for a coat. Plus all the sugar we were consuming kept us warm. 

Back then, we weren't "allowed" to eat any candy until we got home and Mom sorted through it looking for needle marks or open candy. We weren't allowed to keep anything homemade either. It wasn't until years later I realized it was just Mom scoping out the goods to pick what pieces she wanted to steal from us later. 

I do remember mom being really strict about how much candy a day we could have. Both bags of candy stayed on top of the refrigerator and every night after dinner we could pick two pieces. 

The good stuff went fast; Reese's, M&Ms, tootie rolls, snickers, etc. Then eventually all that was left was licorice, lolly pops and smarties. Blech. 

So whether you dressed up today, or are taking little ghost and gobblins out and about, have a sweet, sugar induced Halloween.

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Day 10 - Algarve - Azeitao - Lisbon

Today we leave the Algarve and head back to Lisbon. I'm ready to be home. I think I've hit the end of my social capabilities. I'm tired. I'm sick and I'm ready to be home in my own bed. Don't get me wrong though. I have enjoyed Portugal and this trip thoroughly. There just comes a time when I'm ready to be done with all the traveling. 

On our way to Lisbon today we stopped at a tile facility. It's a small, family owned tile factory. The tour guide walked us through the process. It's interesting how much goes into a single tile. Each one made by hand, hand painted and fired. This little factory puts out a mere 25,000 tiles a year. That may sound like a lot, but when you think about an actual manufacturing facility not doing it by hand can put that amount out in a day or two. 



This is the main workshop where the magic begins. The clay they get from the Duoro River. It comes in sacks and they pull enough out to make a single tile. 
The roll the tile out to a certain width and then cut it to be the right size. The cut it a bit larger because it'll shrink in the heating process. 
This is one of several kilns they have. The tiles go in for something like 19 hours. I think it goes in after it's painted. 
I picked myself up a two tiles from this little shop. I loved this W tile and all the colors in it. The other tile I got is a wine bottle coaster.
On the way to Lisbon we stopped in Setubal for a lunch break. Hassan walked us to this market and said there were places to eat inside. 

We walked through the market a little and found this little restaurant in the back. Janet and I split a hamburger and fries. It was an odd burger for me. It had ham, cheese, burger (of course) lettuce, tomato and an egg. I quickly handed Janet the egg from the burger. No thanks. 

Arriving in Lisbon, we had a couple of hours before the Farewell dinner. I needed a nap in the worst way. I rested and just hung out while we waited for the dinner. 

Our Farewell dinner was in a restaurant in the hotel on the top floor. It offered some amazing views of Lisbon. 

The Farewell dinners are always a little bittersweet for me. On the one hand I'm ready to be home. On the other I've appreciated all the things we've seen and done. We've made some great friends on this trip and have enjoyed being around most of the people. 

This gentleman was among our favorites. His name is Ken and he was on this trip with his sister and brother in law, who also turned out to be a ton of fun. Australians. Ken was hilarious. He had a witty come back for everything and was constantly asking Hassan questions about things as we traveled around Portugal. They were all great fun. 

Julie was another friend we made on this trip. We hooked up with her almost immediately and spent the entire trip hanging with her. She too is Australian and was on a whirlwind trip from Ireland, England/Wales and then finally Portugal. 
Dinner was delicious! The meal started with a salad. I had a couple of salads with dinner throughout the trip and all of them were just ok. The dressing on all of them was a liquidly and flavorless. 
The wine in Portugal was delicious. This particular night it was exceptional. I needed to take a photo of the bottle just in case I can get it in the states. 
Dinner was 'teenage' beef again. They call it veal, but Hassan swears that it's not the baby cows that we call veal in the states. I chose to believe him. This meat was tender and delicious. 
Dessert, according to the menu, was to be a souffle. It came out and they lit it on fire. This isn't a souffle to me, but I'll go with it.  
It wasn't great to be honest, but then again, I'm not a dessert person. 

And so that's it. Portugal is done. We came. We saw. We ate. We learned. And we vowed to remember it forever. I'm still processing all that we did and saw. It goes so fast that I have to take some time to recount it all and really appreciate all that we saw. 

With that, our flight is mid-day tomorrow and we'll be home around 9:30pm Seattle time. I took the next day off from work as I'm sure I'll be useless. I'm bringing home this wonderful bug and can only hope it goes away quickly. 

Until next time Portugal, Chau!


Friday, September 29, 2023

Day 9 - The Algarve

Here we are! Lagos in The Algarve! It's beautiful here. The cold, and the fact we're at the end of our tour, has me a little exhausted so I'm going to lay low for the next couple of days. 

We arrived and were greeted by the craziest hotel I've ever been in. The Tivoli hotel is a combination of several properties and as such the layout is very confusing. I've never been in a hotel where you had a guide show you to your room. But thank god they did, we'd never find it otherwise. 
View from our room

We went up a flight of stairs (to 1st floor), met our guide who walked us down a hallway that has us on the 4th floor (keep in mind we didn't go up any steps). We got in an elevator to take it down to the second floor. Down another hallway, then up a half flight of stairs to our room. I said to Janet that I think we should have dropped bread crumbs to find our way back. 

We took the extra excursion to go have another "traditional" Portuguese meal. I happen to like these big group meals as it makes it very easy on us - we don't have to decide what to have. 
We thought this might be a good time to get a photo with our tour guide Hassan. He still wasn't, at all, sure about these crab hats, but he enjoyed the humor in them. He was an excellent guide and I learned a lot from him during this trip. 

Janet had the fish - I think Sea Bass and I had the pork. It was so dang tender and delicious. The Portuguese eat a lot of pork alongside their fish. 

The next day we were up early again and headed to Cape Saint Vincent. The south western most point of continental Europe. 

It wasn't nearly as windy there as I thought it would be. In fact, Hassan said it was odd that it wasn't windy. I guess we'll enjoy it and be thankful we weren't blown off the steep cliff. 

After the Cape we stopped at the Fort of Sagres. 

The fort is well positioned to have a panoramic view of the area. The cliffs are about 60 meters high and the views were amazing. 



The history of the fort has it built in the 15th century under the command of Henry the Navigator and was designed to protect the area from attacks coming from North Africa. The fort was damaged in the big earthquake of 1755 and then the resulting tidal wave (yes the wave came over the 60 meter high cliffs). 

At the top of the walls, you get to see so many beautiful views of the surrounding beaches and cliffs. 
That lighthouse is Cape Saint Vincent - which was where we were prior to stopping here at the Fort. 

We got back to Lagos and had the afternoon free. Our first stop was lunch though. We found this little restaurant and ordered ourselves a steak bifana. Likely the best bifana I had during the entire trip. Simple and delicious. 

For the afternoon, I decided to stay in the room and rest. The bug I picked up was in full swing and I thought it best to rest up. Janet took off for a walk around Lagos. 

Later that night we met our new friend Julie for a happy hour drink and then dinner. We headed back to the restaurant we visited at lunch because it was so good. 



Janet had the codfish au gratin (basically the bacalau); Julie had the octupus and I had this Portuguese steak that was amazing. Huge piece of beef surrounded by all these potatoes and a gravy that was out of this world. 

Tomorrow we head back to Lisbon for the last day our our trip. I'm ready to be home if I'm being honest. I think a combination of the cold and exhaustion has me ready to be in my own bed.