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Monthly Archives: December 2007

After listening to Roy Orbison’s “Only The Lonely” again, I wanted to know more about him. He had one of the most incredible voices I’ve ever heard. And this was in the day when there were no studio enhancements to speak of.  There were no elaborate sound boards, and mixing systems back then either. You plugged in your instruments and microphone, and you either sang well or you didn’t. (He did!)

Nik Dirga wrote in a Roy Orbison CD review, “Roy Orbison was the voice of sorrow. But sorrow never sounded quite so sweet. For nearly 30 years, Orbison was the quintessential spokesman for the brokenhearted, with his trademark sunglasses, hiding his eyes, so all you would focus on was the voice.”

And by the way, he was not blind, as many people believe. One night when he was about to perform, he realized that he had left his glasses on the plane. He did suffer from poor eyesight, and so in desperation, he grabbed a pair of prescription sunglasses that he had with him. The band thought they looked cool, and a legend was born.

Even though Orbison originally signed on with Sun Records (as did Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Carl Perkins), he had only limited success there (Ooby Dooby-1956.) He then contracted with RCA for a short while, and eventually went on to sign with Monument Records in Nashville. Fred Foster urged him to break with his previous style, and he started writing his own songs, and co-writing with Joe Melson, and later Bill Dees. He also created a very unique sound in rock and roll, with his almost operatic voice, complete with falsetto, and a three octave range. His release of “Only the Lonely” reached #2 on the charts in 1960. (See yesterday’s post to hear this phenomenal song.)

He was the headliner in 1963 in England, on a show that featured the Beatles, not yet popular in the U. S.

He was an outstanding songwriter, most remembered for his gutwrenching ballads of lost love. (And of course, for his infamous “Oh, Pretty Woman”, released in 1964, which became a worldwide hit.)

Hearing his sad songs, you would naturally assume that he had suffered the greatest heartbreak of any man on earth, but that was to come later.

His life was indeed tragic. His first wife, Claudette, died in a 1966 motorcycle accident. From research, it seems that Roy and Claudette were on separate bikes, and her motorcycle crashed into a truck, that unexpectedly pulled in front of her. She died an hour or so later from multiple injuries. (Earlier he had written the Everly Brothers’ hit, Claudette, about his wife.)  After her death, he found it difficult to write for quite awhile.  To deal with his grief, he immersed himself in concert engagements.

Then in 1968, just 2 years later, he was on tour in England, when he received the news that his house in Hendersonville, Tennessee had burned down, and 2 of his 3 sons had perished in the fire. The youngest son, Wesley, was rescued from the fire, by Roy’s parents.

And in 1973, his older brother, Grady, was killed in an auto accident, while on his way to spend Thanksgiving with Roy.

In an interview on CBS Morning News, Roy said, “Through the grace of a loving God and Jesus Christ, and my faith, and good friends and kindred souls, and people who have been through things that I had just gone through-through their love and understanding, also through the career, I worked my way through that…”

During these years, he continued to tour worldwide, and married his second wife, Barbara, in 1968. She was a of German descent, and later became his manager.

In 1978, he collapsed while running up some bleachers, and as a result, discovered that he needed coronary bypass surgery.

He was offered an opening slot on the Eagles 1980 tour, and later released a duet, “That Loving You Feeling Again”, with Emmylou Harris. Several famous singing stars including Linda Ronstadt, Don McClean, and Van Halen covered his songs, and re-releases of his own songs made him popular in the U. S. again, as a concert performer.  In 1987, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  That same year he also recorded a duet remake, with k.d. lang, of his hit Crying

In the late 80s, he achieved notoriety as a member of the Traveling Wilburys, with band members Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, George Harrison, and Jeff Lynne.

Orbison was on the brink of an amazing comeback, when he died suddenly of a massive heart attack, at the age of 52.  While visiting his mom, in the Nashville area, he complained of chest pains, and was rushed to the hospital, where he died that night, December 6, 1988.

The release of his album, Mystery Girl (#5 on the charts-1989), after his death, became the highest charting album of his career, reaching platinum.

Oh, Pretty Woman was the theme song for the blockbuster movie Pretty Woman, starring Julia Roberts. His song, In Dreams, was also used in a scene in the movie, Blue Velvet.

The amazing thing about Roy Orbison is, that even though he suffered horrendous tragic events in his life, he overcame so many of them, and gave a gift to the world. That gift was his voice, and we should be forever grateful. Elvis Presley called him, “the greatest singer in the world.”

He is buried in the Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery, in Westwood, California, in an unmarked grave.


As an introduction to an article, that I am going to write tomorrow or the next day, I wanted to ask a question. Is it worse to die alone or live alone? People can be lonely in a crowd, feel distanced from all that surrounds them, and even feel alone in a relationship. There is a part of us that will forever be alone, misunderstood, or not understood at all, by those around us. Sometimes living like that is worse than dying, for I do think angels come at death. How many of us long, with all our heart, to be understood by just one person? It is a rare treasure. To connect with anyone on an intimate level of understanding, even for a moment, is so pleasing. And mostly it does occur in moments-just moments. Then we find ourselves alone again, yearning to express our deepest feelings and thoughts, and wondering if anyone will ever really get it.

At times, I feel like an alien in this world. Too sensitive to live here, too easily hurt and injured. I feel things too deeply, and no one understands. There are moments though, when I laugh a lot, and I have taken to crying more on the inside, than visibly. But the pain is real, and the disappointment and disillusionment is strong. I am glad that there is a God who created me, and knows me by name. For when I am the most lonely, He is my friend. But remember the saying that was going around awhile back, about “just needing someone with skin on.” God made us that way, so that we would need each other.

I remember when we owned the Christian coffeehouse (Crossroads), we were in the middle of our small town, downtown area. And just in back of the shop, across the street from our business, homeless people lived in the bushes. And sometimes they would wander into the coffeehouse. When they weren’t so drunk that they were a disturbance to everyone, we would talk to them, and make sure they got some coffee, and sometimes a bite to eat. Most of these people, were intelligent souls, who had once had businesses and families, but had just given up. Most of them had become alcoholics, and preferred living on the streets to having to be a part of “real” society again. I found their stories tragic, to a degree, and sometimes they made me angry, because I knew they could change their way of life, if they just would. But they had lost all hope of ever living a different life; there was just no inspiration.

Then there are the unseen elderly, who have no one to call on. And for them, living is probably scarier than dying. Imagine being so sick at times, that you can’t even get yourself a bowl of soup, or hardly make it to the bathroom, yet you know there is no one to call. I will be writing about some of these people in the article.

It seems like it is a good idea to try and establish some long lasting relationships before we get really old, and our family dies. But I tend to think this is a lot easier said than done. My mom worked all her life, and her friends were work aquaintances. But when she became older, sick, and widowed those people were no longer in her life. Many of her friends were military, as she was a civilian worker in a military town, for most of her later working years. So when my dad died, she had no friends-other than a next door neighbor. Both are fairly private people, and even though they like each other, they rarely visit. When older people don’t have any friends, that is an even greater burden for their families. As caregivers, we have to become everything to them, and try to meet all their needs-physical, emotional and social, and it is very difficult to do.

There are many hopeless people in the world, hiding behind vacant eyes that do not betray their agony. How many of them do we just walk by? And some-days we ARE them, and people walk past us.

I wish that I could say, that as life progresses, it makes us see the goodness in the world, but truthfully, the pain seems to increase. Perhaps it is because we are like children at the fair. The lights were so colorful, the rides so exciting. So much to taste, and smell, and experience. A “Wonderland” of sorts. But one day, you see it for what it really is. Grungy carnival people standing in sawdust. Stuffed animal prizes not worth the cost of the game. Exhausting motion from the fast thrill rides, and the ever present faint scent of stale beer and popcorn. For those of us not at home in this world, it becomes more and more like that. And we realize, unmistakeably, that it is not our home. A better one awaits us, where we will be understood, and will also understand. 

Why do people end up alone? Some have been disappointed in love, some lose their spouses to death, some are disappointed by life, and just don’t have the motivation to reach out to anyone once again. It just doesn’t seem worth the effort. They’ve been so deeply wounded. There are people like that everywhere.

And there are people who are shunned by others. Perhaps they have some physical defect, that causes people to keep their distance. Or they may have a mental problem that scares others away. To be treated like an outcast by others has sometimes bred feelings of explosive anger and violence. Can you imagine the pain of not looking normal, or feeling normal? (Whatever normal is…) We can be a cruel society if people don’t fit in properly.

So ponder the meaning of being alone. I mean truly alone. Where no one cares if you live or die, and maybe you have wanted it that way, but most likely you didn’t. I’ll be working on my article and we’ll discuss it more tomorrow. Think about the lonely…

I spent yesterday with my first cousin, Jack. He and I were raised together until I was 7. His mother died when he was a baby, and my (our) grandparents adopted him. My mom and I lived with her parents until we moved to Atlanta, so Jack and I were like brother and sister in those early years.

He later took care of my grandparents, living in the same small town as they did, until they died. No one could have done more.

Jack’s life has been difficult, and in some ways, tragic. He has been married several times, and none of the relationships lasted. He has been hurt very badly many times as well.

He has raised one daughter, and is still raising a 15 year old. Even though it seemed unlikely at first, her birth saved his life. It gave him something to focus on, and a reason for living. I think he will be lost without her when she gets old enough to be on her own.

He says that it’s not living alone that gets to him the worst, but the idea of growing old alone. I can surely understand that, as many of us fear that happening.

This weekend I wrote an abstract for Brijit, about a radio program I listened to about dying alone. That really made me think about how many people have no one in their lives that truly care. I plan to write an article on this, and I’ll share it with you when it’s finished.

So many of us are blessed because we have love in our lives. Jack would like nothing better than to have someone to come home to-someone to share his life with. If you have had love in your life, cherish it. So often we take it for granted, until it’s gone. We let petty things get in the way of peaceful living-things that aren’t at all important. Being together is important; being there for each other through all the good and difficult times. That’s what true love is-standing by each other through it all.

I often think how little anything in life means without someone to share it with…

My friend also has a blog, and she often writes about her 20 year old son, who was found dead, floating in a river. There are young people who were there the night it happened, and they know things. Things they refuse to reveal. And it is so frustrating for her to know that they know. Can you imagine? I can’t.

We often chat back and forth about various things she writes. She is a wonderful writer. And tonight, I was trying to express what it’s like for me, learning to live without my loved ones. (I am not trying to compare my losses with the loss of a child. But we understand that. They say that the loss of a child is the most devastating loss anyone can ever experience. I was the Moderator on a Grief Board for awhile, and when I visited the Child Loss Board, I could see that this is so profoundly true. There is no consoling a parent who has lost a child. The void is forever present-every moment of every day.)

But what we do have in common is loss and grief, and anger and frustration. These are some of the thoughts I wrote to her tonight.

“Learning to live without our loved ones is such a sorrowful task. We do go on, at least we go through the motions. We know it’s not fair to others to not even try, and so we try. But there is a hole the size of Texas in our hearts and soul.

Grasping for some way to get my dad into our Christmas celebration, I bought a red golf club bag ornament. He was an avid golfer. (My brother even drug in his golf bag, and placed it by the casket at visitation.) I placed the ornament on the counter, with the other decorations surrounding the food. But looking at it, I can’t honestly say it made me feel better. It tugged at my heart so much, I fought removing it at times. (My family is not one to light candles for departed ones, or to go through other rituals.) I would be inclined to be more ritualistic, left to my own designs. (Not “spooky religious”, but ceremonial.) But it seems my family chooses mostly, not to mention my dad very much. I find that I am the one who brings him up the most, though my mom will talk of him a little, now and then.
And so we go through the motions, pretending that life is like it once was. But it isn’t. When I am alone, or writing, I feel the true loss. I feel the sharp pain that takes my breath away. I feel the stress and emptiness of life without him, and even still, the unbelief that he is really gone. But where would he have been for so long? Sadly, I have to admit he’s never coming back, and it hurts like hell. And if it was just that, it would be enough. But this (and other) losses have left me not trusting life. Not trusting who’ll be here tomorrow. Not trusting anything, really. I do not want to give in to fear, but I think I have certainly given in to paranoia (at times.) Maybe it’s because death is an enemy that I don’t know how to fight. I feel I can’t win, and his bony cold fingers will always take what (and who) they want. I know that Jesus defeated death, but I guess I don’t understand then, why people still have to die. A person can recover from most anything, but death. How do you ever recover from death? You simply don’t; you simply can’t.
I too, have some unforgiveness that sometimes haunts me. Against the hospital, against some nurses and doctors. And I want the outcome to be different, because I know they had the power to make it different, and they didn’t. That is where my anger comes from. They let my dad die. No, they killed him. (From carelessness, neglect, and a failure to recognize how sick he truly was, until it was too late.) It simply wasn’t supposed to end that way. If I really thought it was his time, I think I could deal with it better. But I guess I haven’t accepted that it was his time to go.
Linda, I can’t imagine losing a child, and to lose a special friend and companion like Owen…there are no words. I understand your feeling angry, and frustrated. I think for you, if you just knew WHAT happened, it would help immensely. I know it wouldn’t change the outcome, but it would answer some questions. For now it’s “the more you know, the less you understand.” (Just like the song said.) You deserve to know. I can only imagine my own frustration, and my desire to shake the truth out of anyone who might know it. I guess I would go insane if I thought they knew, but they wouldn’t tell. I’m sure you have felt crazy at times.
I can only say that to go on at all is courageous, and yet I know you wouldn’t want to be called that. I just think you are. Because you loved Owen so deeply. That is so apparent. I pray some day there will be answers…”

No matter who we have lost, we have to learn to live without them, and how do we do that?…

I was busy trying to get dressed when my guests arrived for Christmas dinner. I had been cooking all night, and afternoon, so I got my shower at the very last minute. By the time I got the fire going, the meal cooked, the presents wrapped, the candles lit, the table set, etc., I really needed a “Calgon take me away” moment. (If you’re too young, this won’t mean anything to you.)

My mom is an insulin dependent diabetic with lots of other health problems. She has rheumatoid and osteoarthritis also. Her legs have almost refused to work in the last couple of weeks, so she was not able to scale my stairs to the kitchen. (Yes, we have an upstairs kitchen. Long story-but we were in our 20’s and wanted a lake view from the kitchen and living room.) Great idea when you’re in your late 20s…not so great when you’re in your middle 50s. At any rate, I went down to the family room (where we were going to eat) and greeted her. She handed me a little unwrapped gift, much to my surprise. (This was in addition to a money gift she gave my husband and I for Christmas.) I couldn’t believe it. You know from my blog, how grumpy she had been all week, and almost mean at times. (Okay…mean for sure, at times.) Well it was a crystal teddy bear, holding a rose, in a little pink heart shaped box. She said, “Read what it says.”

I read the inscription in the top of the box:

“Always In My Heart”

I wonder if you know

How special you are?

You are so dear to me

Always in my heart.

(Very touching.) I think it was her way of apologizing for some of the things that have happened lately. And if I stop and think about this carefully, it may be that all the love I have been craving from her, is right here in a little heart shaped box.

(This one’s by Bette Midler, not LeAnn Rimes like it says)

Well, it’s 1:15 a.m. and I just got through eating some deviled eggs! LOL! When you’re the hostess, you don’t actually taste your food all that much, since you’re so busy seeing that other people are happy. So I always sneak a snack late at night-when it’s all over.

It was a pleasant evening, and both my husband and I are exhausted. There is just so much to do to get ready for Christmas, and so much to do to recover from it! But it’s over for another year, and I’m still breathing…faintly. (Smile)

My husband and I never seem to have a chance to give each other our gifts before Christmas, so we always wait for a quieter evening. We have learned this works better for us, than trying to grab a moment when we’re exhausted. Maybe that’s part of getting older. You learn that things can be postponed and still be good. (Sometimes even better.)

We had a nice dinner, door prizes that you can only claim if you put on the silly headband Christmas hats-(things like reindeer ears, light-bulbs, etc.), and a really fun game that involves winning money (lots of fun). Then we opened the presents. And as they say, a good time was had by all. (But then my husband and I had to clean it all up.) Well, you know the story.

Now for the first time this whole season, I feel peaceful. I can sleep in tomorrow. I can warm up leftovers for dinner (we love them.) And I don’t have to do all this for another year. Every year I say that will be the last time I go through all this, but I just keep on feeling like I have to do it. Then when my daughter gets married, she’ll want to have Christmas at home with us, I imagine. And hey-I’m just wondering… is there any escape from all this in a woman’s entire life???? Hmmm…maybe not. Lol!

But for now, I choose to be like Scarlett O’Hara, and think about that…tomorrow! (Wink)

Well here we are…twas the night before Christmas. I have one bathroom left to clean, (still cleaning), and lots to cook. I have never had a Christmas where I moved so slowly-almost as if I’m watching myself from afar. Just don’t have energy this year, and am fighting another UTI infection. (I’m on the meds.) At any rate, things are going pretty well, and I forced myself to sleep in today. What doesn’t get done, doesn’t get done. And in the long run, what does it really matter anyway, right? (I will close the door to rooms that I couldn’t get to, hoping no poor soul will try and open them.)

I plan to spend the rest of the night cooking, and watching Christmas shows on TV. I love cooking, ( but hate grocery shopping.) Cooking is fun, and I will likely be cooking most of the day tomorrow as well. Our gathering will be in the evening, around 6:00 p.m. We will have Shepherd’s pie (a wonderful dish with ground sirloin, peas, carrots, mushrooms, onions, spaghetti sauce, and mashed potatoes spread on the top, covered in lots of melted cheese.) Truly decadent and amazingly delicious!  It’s a Christmas tradition at our house. I think I’ll fix a green bean casserole, a squash casserole, deviled eggs, croissant rolls, and cheesecake with strawberries for dessert. (Other desserts as well.) Sound good? Yum….

So I will finally get a chance to rest when this is over-well at least a little. I bought myself one of those bed rests with a place to hold your drink, and a massager inside. LOL! That will be my present to myself when Christmas is over. I will sneak in my bed, all cozy under the covers, and read a good book. (But for now, there’s all that cooking to do…)

I know that someday I will probably miss all this hustle-bustle (though I can’t imagine it now), so I will try and remember what is really important as we gather together. And that is, that we are together, enjoying each other, and celebrating the gift of Christmas…

This is the time of year when our thoughts always turn to our loved ones, as we remember Christmases past, with longing in our hearts for days gone by. I can remember Christmas when my grandparents were alive, and how one uncle would always arrive at midnight, bringing in all kinds of gifts that made me believe there really was a Santa Clause. How he got the perfect gift for everyone, I’ll never know, but it was worth the wait. (I think he worked, and then did all his shopping on Christmas Eve.) Finally, my grandparents got too old to stay up until midnight, and we had to start without him sometimes. That was Uncle Jack, and I miss him still. He died at 48 years old-far too young to leave this earth.

And of course, my grandparents raised me until I was seven, and my mom and I moved to Atlanta from Macon, Georgia. Leaving them was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, and I thought my little heart would break. My mama (grandmother) was my security, and my papa always brought me chewing gum. (My mom and dad divorced when I was 2, and we went to live with my grandparents for awhile.) My mom says she needed to get me to herself, or I would never have realized that she was my mom. I guess that’s true, because to this day, I call her Betty. They all called her that in the household, and no one taught me any different, so I called her that also. But my grandparents have been gone for quite awhile, and a great deal of my sunshine went with them.

 I never really got to know my real dad, Lonnie, like I would have liked to, but he’s gone now too. I visited him every Christmas and summer from about 10 on (after I contacted him and said I wanted to know him.)  I was in touch with him from about 2 until 6, then I didn’t see him until about 10, but he always sent me a birthday and Christmas present. (Before he died, I thanked him for all the gifts and cards he sent me, and he said he wished he could have been there more for me. I said that I knew he did, and that I loved him. There should have been so much more to say…but there wasn’t.) When I contacted him at 10, he had just remarried, and I spent most of the time with my stepmother, because he worked. For awhile he was a radio DJ, and he sent me all kinds of records, and also tapes of his shows. Later, I went on to work in radio myself, as a DJ, and I also created my own radio show, Love Notes, (teaching, with music that was related) which was on a Christian station (91.1 FM)  for 9 years. I’d love to do radio again. So I guess I got that talent, and a nervous giggle from him. I always thought there would be so much more…but there wasn’t….

And then, my step-dad (from 7 years of age), Sam, died recently. I guess it’s been about 2 1/2 years now, and it seems like an eternity. I always said if the world broke, he could fix it. But it’s broken now, and he’s gone too…

I wonder who will be here next Christmas? I guess none of us can know, and so we live our lives, loving those who are left, and holding them close, because we know what it’s like without our  loved ones. If you are grieving this Christmas, I’m thinking of you also. You are not alone. If you need a place to talk, go to I’m the Moderator on the Main Board, and they have a Child Loss Board, and a Sibling Board, and it is a wonderful place to find encouragement, and there’s always someone to listen. I’m thinking of all the dear people there who have lost loved ones also, and are hurting so badly. 

So I take this time today, before all the family gathers on Christmas, to think of those who are no longer with us, and to say “Merry Christmas”” in Heaven. I love you, and I miss you always…

I heard that Dan Fogelberg died recently. He was an amazing singer-songwriter back in the day. I was young in the 60s and 70s, when the greatest music ever was created. (Okay, I’m a little biased, but I haven’t heard anything like it these days.) As I listened to his songs, Leader of the Band, Run for the Roses, and Same Old Lang Syne, I realized what a true poet he was.

In the song Same Old Lang Syne, he talks about meeting an old girlfriend in a grocery story, and what an awkward moment it was. They shared a couple of drinks, and sat in the car and talked about old times. She said that she had heard his music, and he must be doing well. He said, “The audiences are heavenly, but the traveling is hell.” She then says that she married an architect that “kept her warm and dry. She’d like to say she loved the man, but she didn’t like to lie.” (Can you say more than that in two simple sentences?)

After they talk a little more, they go their separate ways. It made me think of opportunities lost, and people who settle for less than they should have. And how no matter how much you want to, you can’t “go home again.” Some things are for a time and season, and when that time has passed, it cannot be resurrected. While the memories are sweet, they don’t translate into the present, because they can’t. You have changed, and you can’t go back. You can only go forward.

It made me think of my life and loves. I have known the pure love of a child/teenage girl, with a marriage at 17, that lasted 7 years. We grew up and apart, but it was genuine love at the level we were capable of. Still, I have bittersweet memories of that time of my life. We sang together professionally, and we were hippies together (on the weekends anyway) in Atlanta. It was a time of innocence and naivety. Bell bottom jeans, long hair, incense, folk music, acoustic guitar, first love, etc.

And I have also known a wild and passionate love as a woman, and to this day, it nurtures my soul and spirit. And while there are times of drifting apart, the love abides. Shared experiences, and a history that no one else knows. Like a tapestry that is woven over time, I am glad that the knot has been tied, so that it didn’t come unraveled. For I do not have the time, inclination, or patience to weave it again. (And nothing could possibly surpass the original.) To know someone intimately is a gift. To be known by someone that way is also a gift. We are comfortable, yet still a mystery to each other.

As I look back over my life, do I have regrets? I would be lying to say “absolutely none,” But we play the hand we’ve been dealt, right? And we have to believe that nothing we have ever experienced is without purpose of some sort. We are building character. And while you can’t take your achievements to heaven, you can take your character. It is who you are, and who you will be for all eternity.

So I say “Auld Lang Syne” to you. It means “days gone by”, “old long since”, and sort of a “once upon a time.” Some people sing the song as a funeral dirge, and others sing it with hope for the future. For some it holds only memories of the past, and for others the promise of tomorrow. Life is like that too, isn’t it? So I wish for you memories of the past, and hope for the future, and all the dreams you have yet to realize…

Well, we’re almost there! Got a call today that informed me 4 our guests can’t come because of a family emergency on the husband’s side, so our group is rapidly dwindling. A little disappointing because their family has the little kids that make Christmas so much fun, but it is what it is. We’ll make the best of it all. I am now officially down to cleaning only. (Yes, I’m still cleaning!) LOL! I will send my husband for the final round of perishable groceries on Sunday, and we will have our family get together on Christmas day (in the evening).  So I’ll have to finish the cleaning and then cook.  Tomorrow will be a quiet day (hopefully) of cleaning (with a little decorating).

I stumbled today and my computer chair fell backwards, and down I went. My head hit a medium sized Christmas tree, and my arm hit a step stool, and Coke went everywhere. Several hours later, I’m plenty sore, but I still seem to have all my body parts intact (though my neck, back and arms are aching.) So I guess I need to clean my computer room! LOL!

I went to the Flea Market today, and vacuumed and cleaned my booth for the remaining days (2) that we’ll be open before Christmas. I sell nice glassware, Victorian decorations, Depression glass, teapots, teacups, and lots of girly items, and a few clothes. I closed 2 of my booths this year, and now I’m down to just one. I really enjoy the “hunt” for the items, and I love to arrange the booth and decorate it. I use hatboxes to display a lot of my items, and my booth is called “Ribbons and Roses”. It’s a fun hobby.

Well, guess I’ll close for now. No great revelations today-just the ordinary things of life (which I’m thankful for.) I’ve had all the “excitement” lately anyone needs. Ordinary days are extraordinarily rare.

I hope that as the days approach Christmas, you are having a little time to count your blessings also. While life can be very difficult at times-at least we’re breathing, right? Some days just breathing is good…