With Every Twist and Turning Branch of The Family Tree


Hey man in my family, not a one of us fall far from the family tree.

It matters not if our bloom has long since faded far from the vine or if we are just coming into bud.

We continually sprout, bud and eventually bloom into the fruit we were intended to bare.

For us we were through many years of grafting, pruning and nuturing meant to produce the love of faith, forgiving and family that was planted by those who have long since past, yet had laid solid ground for us to grow.

How silly, ridiculous and arrogant of us to do anything other than continue and progress, as meant to be.

From what I know of life, not much that grows without encumbrance holds within the seed of character. 

Character must be cultivated in the rich soil of  family, some adversity, rich love and most of all a deep rooted faith.

For my family, each and everyone I pray. we continue grow through all the twisting, turning and most of all loving that lies within and beyond our family tree.


“windows are not made for looking out but more for looking in.”

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When I was a child I had my Dottie She was my salvation. I loved her, I adored her and I miss her to this day. Dorothy Kathryn Jenkins (Mobley) was my grandmother. God really broke the mold with Dot. … Continue reading

Imagine the Possibilities

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My imagination paints the picture that I long to see. I love when young and old alike allow themselves the freedom to dream. To me the best dreams come from an overzealous imagination. “Imagine the possibilities”, I love those words … Continue reading

From Blue Sky Bliss to Blue Light Madness


As the blue-sky envelopes all the natural beauty the great northwest has to offer, I find myself in awe of my surroundings. Even the drive to my local grocery store is scenic and my senses are ripe to breath it all in. I feel so alive, so vibrant and so grateful!!!!

Until that is, the actual shopping experience begins. The minute I start frantically wiping off (with a tiny disinfectant wipe) that filthy, cumbersome cart, all the pre-store, enjoy the trip euphoria is now only a memory for me to cling to.

Is it only me that is transfixed on thinking about how many little “pee-pee” bottoms have sat in that cart at one time or another? I think about it enough that I got to go back for another wipe. Then I must try to not take any poor bystander out while I steer that monster cart with one hand and wipe frantically that “stinkin” seat with the other.

I just have to interject here that I really DO NOT think people with that stupid blue tooth thing hanging out of there ear, should be allowed in the grocery store while wearing that ridiculous thing. Nothing screams “I need attention” more than that silly bit of business.

When shopping on a budget stopping and picking up the weekly ad is a must. Then you have to find some quiet little spot to have a minute to peruse what’s on the table for this week. Not an easy task if you’ve hit the store on a payday or senior Tuesday. Your chances of being hit by a cart driven by some old fart are way better than sneaking off somewhere to check that ad in private.

If you do manage to get those precious sale items memorized and those coupons ripped out with your bare hands and neatly enough there is still some remnant of bar code, you’ve done well. I know I’m always quite proud of myself when I get all that accomplished without cursing so loudly some poor soul thinks there’s been a flip out in aisle 5. I really do try not to curse in the grocery store but I have been known to slip up on that from time to time.

When I finally do make it to check out, is when I really must focus and breath. Again if it’s busy and the lines are long I will make at least one pre-emptive pass, by all the cashiers. I’m looking for that experienced, friendly face that I think will help me to achieve my goal to get through that line as quickly as possible. I’m also checking out my shopping competition. I do not want to get behind a couponer or social butterfly, cause to me that is the equivalent of torture. Again too there better not be a “bluetooth” wearer in my line. I will shift from side to side to side to side, while focusing on anything but the horror in front of me. I get the shakes just thinking about it!

But when it’s all said, done, bought and paid for I exit and take again a deep breath of outside bliss. That is until I realize I forgot, yet again where I parked that freakin car. This is why I have grandchildren. My role as grandmother is nurturer. Their role is to keep grandma the loving nurturer and save her from the grocery store parking lot trauma about to happen!!!!!!!!

I’m Jumping Into the Pool with My Smartphone In Hand

As the rest of the world has become immersed in the 21st century pool of technological paraphernalia, I’ve remained pretty darn reluctant to dip my tootsies into the water. For me the thought of owning a Smartphone was like jumping off the high dive into the depths of a non-chlorinated pool. I have been convinced that at my age and with no phone savvy, I was not capable of treading water long enough to dog paddle and then breast stroke my way to the safety of shallow water.

That is until I started observing other (slightly graying) peers, going at it with zeal on their phones. You just try carrying on a conversation with someone while they’re holding on for dear life to their phone(aka lifeline).
If your not holding and they are,they will try to text, check email and facebook while glancing up on occasion at your pathetic attempt for conversation.

It must have been all the rejection as of late or maybe just the kind of silly glazed look they get when ignoring me and in the phone zone. But I decided recently I was jumpin in the pool and going to learn to either sink or swim.

I will tell you now; I love my phone to the point of developing my own glazed look. Though I still do enjoy the occasional verbal interaction, I am now almost knee deep in the pool and my goal is to not only stay afloat but also enjoy the swim.

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

With the spring 2013 baseball season in full swing (hee-hee), I hope you’ll enjoy this repost from one grateful but frugal grandma.

A few years ago my husband Gary and I took our grandson Mikey to a Seattle Mariner’s game.

Oh my, he was excited and I was determined to milk every moment of my super grandma status for all it’s worth!

I had pried my purse strings open, painful as that is for me to do, and actually purchased tickets to something.

After our arrival to the stadium and trudging up step after step to the nosebleed section, I soon realized that maybe I should have pried a little harder on those purse strings. Sometimes you do get what you pay for and this was the case here. The nosebleed section is called that for good reason.  Honestly, I thought I may have heard the “Sound of Music” playing off in the distance. I felt we were on a Swiss Alp, Bavarian kind of hike and I started to frantically search for oxygen.  In my opinion, the stadium could make a small fortune renting oxygen tanks to cheap grandmas.  Thank goodness we eventually collapsed in, I mean arrived to our seats.

But just as soon as those bats started crackin’ things quickly got to a fever pitch and I couldn’t help but get caught up in all the excitement. I must have been delirious from all the action and lack of oxygen because I grabbed the grandkid and announced to my husband I was off to get some eats, a giant finger for Mikey and a $6.00 beer! Good Lord, would the madness never end! Off we went, one lucky grandkid and one blessed grandma.

After dropping more than a buck or two at the concession stand, we collected all our booty and began the long hike back. While making the climb I happened to notice people were staring at me. I thought I was looking nice but I must have been looking real good that day. Wow, maybe they thought I was Mikey’s mom. Climbing, carrying food and sucking in my gut and double chin at the same time was quite a feat. But, with each step my confidence grew almost as big as my head.

Finally we were to our row and had only to squeeze by several people, who looked thrilled to see us coming. As we continually excused ourselves while slipping past fellow spectators, the stares continued and I’m sure I was flashing a smile here and there to all my admirers! Then when we were almost to the safety of our cheap seats, it happened.  There was some very nice, possibly also oxygen deprived woman, who felt compelled to let me know, “Excuse me ma’am, but your fly is open”.