'Tis the Season...for Baseball

While I'm not particularly a baseball fan, it was a part of my life when I was young.  How many of us can there be who don't recall the crack of a bat hitting a ball?  Or the feel of the hard, flat surface of a bleacher in the hot, afternoon or early evening sun?

One of my earliest memories is of my mother, sitting in the old (and I mean old) recliner, with a clipboard in her lap as she watched the World Series on the black & white TV, while she kept a detailed running score of the game.  I don't know what teams played in those games, but I know for most of my growing up years, I was a Roger Maris fan.  Mickey Mantle was a close second.  I also remember Sandy Koufax, Willie Mays, Johnny Bench, George Brett, Hank Aaron, Joe DiMaggio, and Don Drysdale.  Those were the days of baseball.  Of course there were hundreds more, but those were the ones I remember best.

My mom wasn't the only one who watched baseball.  We lived not far from Lawrence Stadium, now Lawrence-Dumont Stadium, which was built in 1934 and has been the home of the National Baseball Congress World Series since 1935.  On summer nights, my dad would attend games there.  My mom would take me, usually in my pajamas and very sleepy, to pick him up when the game was over.  Across the street from the ballpark was a Dairy Queen.  Not the fancy brazier kind there are not, but one where you walked up to the window and ordered.  My mom was a banana split person, and my dad usually ordered a sundae of some kind.  My favorite was a chocolate malt...that I rarely finished and was put in the freezer for the next day.  Frozen DQ chocolate malts are great!  The DQ has been gone for years, but I'm always reminded of it when we go watch my oldest granddaughter perform in the annual ice show or we go skating at the Ice Center (upper left of the stadium in photo), built in 1996.  I've had the pleasure of attending a few games at L-D Stadium over the past 20 years and enjoyed every minute, including the beer that was accidentally dumped down my back by a zealous fan. ;)

Childhood became teen years, and we'd moved to a small town.  I became a Dodger fan.  In fact, like former manager Tommy Lasorda, I've been known to bleed Dodger Blue.  Third baseman Ron Cey was my favorite during those years, but was closely followed by Steve Garvey, Don Sutton, and others.  If I still watched baseball, that would be my team, in spite of KC Royals being only 3 1/2 hours away.  I'll root for the Texas Rangers, too, just because.

When I finally grew up and became a real adult, I went to slow pitch softball games, usually two to three games a week and several weekend tournaments, for most of 20+ years.  I learned to keep score and swore that my backside had to have been as flat as the bleachers I sat on, game after game after game.  There were lots of bleacher tans: shoulders and arms, upper chest and back, and tops of thighs and feet, not to mention my scalp if there was a part in my hair.  I made friends with the wives and girlfriends of players and enjoyed spending time with them on the bleachers.  I learned the rules of baseball and softball, not by playing, but by watching, listening and cheering on the team.  And, oh, the stories I have of those crazy times.  If I had to choose between watching softball or baseball, I'd choose softball in a heartbeat, even in spite of Maris, Koufax and Cey. ;)

So here's my salute to baseball and the boys of summer, complete with a super, upbeat tune and old-time photos that bring back those childhood memories.  Thank you, John Fogarty!

Baseball is the only place in life where a sacrifice is really appreciated.  ~ Author Unknown

PLAY BALL!!! 

Give Me Liberty...or a Vacation

va·ca·tion   [vey-key-shuhn, vuh-]


noun
1.
a period of suspension of work, study, or other activity, usually used for rest, recreation, or travel; recess or holiday: Schoolchildren are on vacation now.


2.
something I haven't had for years and years.



Is there anyone that doesn't agree that we all need a little time off?  Certainly not me.  And make that a chunk of time off for me, because at this point in time, a "little" just isn't going to cut it.

You see, I haven't had a vacation---of any kind---since the summer of 2007, and even that wasn't a real vacation.  It was a working vacation.  I attended RWA's National Conference in Dallas.  Fun, yes, because I got to spend time with my friends.  But believe me, a lot has changed in five years.  I'd just sold and finished my first book for Harlequin American, and I've just contract to write books eight and nine.  No, working vacations, even when spent in the company of the best of friends, are not real vacations.

Even when I was married and especially AK (after kids), there weren't a lot of vacations.  For a few years, before the youngest of the four girls was born, we drove to Missouri and spent long weekends at my aunt and uncle's home on Table Rock Lake.  Two to three days of Silver Dollar City was fun, and the girls enjoyed it.  But staying with relatives and trying to keep 1-3 boisterous girls contained proved to be stressful and very UNvacation-like.


Then there were the then-hubby's softball tournaments that I --and sometimes the girls-- attended.  Vacations are not meant to be spent on hard, butt-numbing bleachers or being tied to a tight schedule of games-to-be-played.  In Savannah, Georgia, I put my foot down and insisted the girls and I visited the birthplace of Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts in the U.S..  In Battle Creek, Michigan, we'd hoped to visit Kellogg's and watch cereal being made, but visitors were no longer allowed.  (Makes one wonder just what they put in those cereal boxes...)  And those were the only two national tournaments the whole family attended.  He said they were vacations.  Uh, no.

My last eight "vacations" haven't been.  Vacations, that is.  Something is wrong with this picture.  My oldest daughter works for Royal Caribbean.  Her working vacations are spent on cruises and in places like the Galapagos.  I've rarely managed to get out of the hotels, except to attend dinners with editors (somewhat stressful) and the always fun Harlequin parties.  But there have been times when I've tried to turn some of those working vacations into more fun than work.  In 2000, I took the Washington, DC metro---alone---to the Washington Mall to see the Vietnam Wall.  In 2003, a writer friend and I traipsed through NYC and I mastered the subway enough to get myself and even others to Ground Zero, the Harlequin offices, and yes, all the usual tourist-y spots, then back to my hotel...more than once.

So here I sit, with no chance of a vacation in sight.  Not this year, at least.  Whether it's time or money, it seems there's always something keeping me grounded.  If I could sprout wings...  Sadly, I can't. But I can DREAM, and if that's all I can do right now, then so be it.  I'll take that vacation...that dream vacation...in my mind.

Islands as yet unnamed in the Caribbean, here I come!  Greece, here I come!  Historical places, here I come!

What and where is your dream vacation?  If you could go anywhere and do anything, what would it be?

A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in. - Robert Orben

Blogging is for Everyone! Or is It?

To my surprise, I've been blogging for six years.  Really.  Since late 2005, I've been sharing my opinions, right or wrong, good or bad, wanted or not wanted, in cyberspace.  I don't even know why I started or why I continue, but it's like a bad habit: Very hard to break...even when I have nothing worthwhile to say.

Blogging has been instrumental in helping along some of the changes in cyberspace.  With Facebook, My Space, Google+, Twitter, LinkedIn, Triberr, and who knows what else, the world is shrinking by the day.  No, make that by the hour.  The internet has introduced us to new people and new friends all over the world.  That's a good thing!  But it's blogging that gives the broadest canvas to users, whether bloggers or blog visitors.

No one else in my family blogs.  Or did.  My oldest daughter decided to put her toe in the water and has, in only a month, completely submerged herself in it and (not surprisingly) is enjoying it.  Hey, I was the one who suggested she take a drama class in high school, and she ended up not only getting parts in plays, but earned the job of student director her senior year.  Blogging was made for her, believe me.  Her main topic of most posts?  Make-up and shopping, hence the name of her blog--Diary of a Shopaholic.  She even posted a video she made on how to apply "smoky eyes."  I manage to post YouTube videos.  What can I say?  It's a new world out there for the newer generation.  And at her age, I was the mother of a 2-year-old and a newborn.  Her daughter is 10.

Amazingly, she isn't the only one of my "inner circle" to slide into the blogosphere.  Desire author and longtime friend Kathie DeNosky recently appeared on the scene with a brand new blog.  Kathie has just started blogging and loves to give away books, so don't miss visiting her at Kathie's World.

 And then there's friend and author Kristi Gold's new blog, where you'll discover how magical she is with words.  Within minutes, she'll have you smiling, if not laughing out loud, as she looks at life with her special brand of humor.  But it doesn't stop there.  The three of us--Kathie, Kristi and myself--will begin blogging together on Valentine's Day as the Ditz Sisters.  And if you know us, you know the "ditz" label isn't a joke. ;)  More info when the big day arrives!

I'll be adding a blog list here on the blog, so if you're a blogger, send me a link and I'll add it.  If you aren't a blogger, but you visit them, be sure to occasionally leave a comment to let the person blogging know that you've been there.  Sometimes it seems pretty lonely out there.

Friendship isn't a big thing - it's a million little things. ~ Author Unknown

'Tis the Season for Having the Nasties

I hab uh code.  (translated: I have a cold.)

I feel a lot like the little girl in the picture over <--there  and wish it would go away so I could feel better.  No fever, just a whole bunch of sneezing and blowing and just all around feeling punk.  What a way to start the new year, huh?  I guess I should be thankful that this didn't start until two days ago, so I was feeling fine for New Year's Eve and Day.  Well, pretty much.

New Year's Eve was enjoyable and spent at my oldest daughter's house.  The younger set karaoked to the Glee sing-along on Wii, while the rest of us sat back and provided encouragement.  For me, going out to a wild party to end and start the year took a nosedive years--lots of years--ago.  I don't mind.

Come New Year's Day morning, and I was awakened at 8:15 a.m.  by the guys putting new siding on my house.  It just so happened that they were working on the spot on exactly the other side of the wall from my bed.  Thankfully, I hadn't had any alcohol the night before, so there wasn't a bit of hangover, but that didn't mean it was pleasant.  They finished on Monday, and I breathed a big sigh of relief. Very little was accomplished over the four days they were working here.

Not only was there noise and a sneezy cold, but my car battery kept dying overnight.  My son-in-law was kind enough to get and install a new starter, and we thought that was the end of it...until the next morning (yesterday), when the battery was dead as a door nail again.  The battery is now replaced with a new one, but I'm still holding my breath.

The moral of the past few days is that we usually manage somehow to get through most of the hugely irritating things that come along and happen to us on what can sometimes seem a daily basis.  Today is quiet.  I spent time yesterday evening with my favorite critique group and will be talking with my bestest writing buddies this afternoon.  I couldn't ask for better friends and am blessed to have them in my life.  Car problems or no car problems, cold and sneezing or no cold and sneezing, life happens.  Somehow we manage to move on and find the sunshine.

Here's hoping everyone's 2012 is filled with sunshine and rainbows and the very best life can offer.

May you always have walls for the winds,
a roof for the rain, tea beside the fire,
laughter to cheer you, those you love near you,
and all your heart might desire.

'Tis the Season for Much

What a busy time of year, and the craziness isn't over.  Christmas is only 3 days away, it's Winter Solstice--the shortest day of the year--and it's also the 10th birthday of my oldest granddaughter.

That's Scarlett on the left when she was a few hours old.  The doctor was certain she wouldn't arrive until after the first of the year, but what babies waiting to enter the world listen to doctors?  Her mom made a late entrance.  I'd begun thinking I'd be pregnant for forever, but Sabrina, Scarlett's mom, finally decided it might not be so bad out in the world, after all.  Obviously Scarlett didn't take after her mom.

This evening will be the first of the family get-togethers over the next week and a half, as we gather to celebrate Scarlett's birthday.  I hear there's pizza on the menu, and of course the obligatory cake.  And, yes, it's hard to believe that there'll be ten candles on that cake.  Time goes by quickly.

I can't imagine not seeing my g-kids and sharing not only in the milestones of birthdays and holidays, but the little things.  That makes me one of the lucky ones.  I've been able to watch them grow from the beginning.   Each one of them is special in his or her own way, and talent of all kinds abounds.  Who knows what the future will bring for each of them?  Good things, I'm wishing.

Enjoy these days ushering in the final holidays of the year!  If you're lucky like me, give the kids and grandkids extra hugs, and treasure the time you have with them.  It may be the season to be busy, but it's also the season to make special memories.  Enjoy making yours!

What do you call people who are afraid of Santa Claus? Claustrophobic.- Anonymous 

Another Halloween and Candy, Candy, Candy!

Halloween was quiet here, with very little candy around.  But when four of the grandkids arrived to show off their costumes as they ended their evening, it was evident that they'd made quite a haul.  It was tempting to ask if they'd share, but there were two reasons I didn't.  First, I don't need the candy.  Second, they earned it and deserve to enjoy every last piece...in moderation. :)
And don't they look cute and/or scary in their costumes!

Payton, age 2, as a devil.  This was her first "real" year of trick-or-treating, and she really enjoyed it, in spite of getting tired before everyone else was ready to quit.

Jaxon, age 4, as a giraffe.  He wasn't crazy about the hood, but at least it kept him warm on a chilly Halloween night.

Alexandria aka Allie, almost 9, as a Barbie rocker who looks like she's more than ready to get going.

Scarlett, almost 10, as a zombie fairy and trying her best to stay in character with that bored, dead look.

Gavin, age 7, is taller than the other two and was excited to be a ninja again.  This time he left the sword at home, so I guess he wasn't expecting trouble.


It's hard to believe that we're already talking Thanksgiving.  I'm just glad I didn't snitch any of that candy.  Although Mallory, my youngest, and I have been walking with Sabrina, my oldest, and Scarlett four or five times a week, we have enough to work off without the added calories of Halloween goodies!  Looking forward to Turkey Day, though, and all the good food it involves.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like....? (rant warning)

Is it October and nearing Halloween?  Or is it after Thanksgiving with Christmas less than a month away?  I ask because, as others have noticed and mentioned on other social media, Christmas items are appearing a little earlier in stores each year.  This year as the Halloween decorations were beginning to adorn stores (a week or two after the huge bags of Halloween candy was appearing on store shelves) and well before the back-to-school items disappeared, Christmas decorations were also sneaking their way into stores.

While I understand that some people enjoy shopping early for Christmas to avoid the hassle of crowds and items being unavailable, I don't understand the  necessity of buying decorations--both outdoor and indoor--too early, such as weeks and weeks prior to Thanksgiving.  Is it because they see things they want and are afraid they'll be gone in a week or two?  Because if it is, they're missing 2 things:  A) If you can't find something closer to Christmas, you weren't supposed to have it in the first place, and B) What about sales?

While I enjoy a pretty tree and tinsel and flickering lights framing roofs and houses, I'd rather save the Christmas decorations for the month of December. Mid-December would suit me fine.  Why?

• Putting up a tree of any size means moving things.  Big things.  Like furniture. 
• Children (the small variety) and pets tend to enjoy UNdecorating more than I ever enjoyed decorating. Not to mention breakage and danger.
• I can only take so much HO HO HO in one year, and its a cinch it'll be over come Dec. 26, so that means shaving off at the beginning.
• No matter what the size of tree, it always blocks my view of the TV...although I don't get a chance to watch a whole lot of shows.
• Taking down the tree is a lot less fun that putting it up was.

My family may tell you that when it comes to Christmas, I lean more toward Scrooge than Tiny Tim.  Maybe it's because I've been around longer and accept reality, which no longer includes racking up a credit card bill that will take most of a year to pay off.  Or maybe it's because, to me, Christmas is a matter of heart, not blinking lights and tinsel.  I'd rather see kindness and love than Santa with reindeer on the rooftop, lit up like the landing strip at the airport.  Merchants, however, don't see it that way, as their eyes light up with dollar signs each time I buy just one more Christmasy thing.  Instead of thinking $$$  (how much we'll need and how much the stores will make), let's fill our hearts with peace and joy by holding off just a little longer and letting anticipation grow, instead of ho hum boredom.

Happy, Merry Hallowmas!

A Woofing Good Time

Woofstock is the largest fundraising event for the Kansas Humane Society. KHS is funded entirely by private donations and fees for service and receives no funding from government entities, the United Way or the Humane Society of the United States. The proceeds from Woofstock help KHS provide care and services for nearly 18,000 pets this year.
We don't own a dog, but we have in the past and there's always a possibility we might in the future. Click on the link below for a slideshow of photos I took at Woofstock.
Woofstock 2011

Just over two weeks ago, KHS waived the adoption fee for cats and kittens.  We have two cats, one which we adopted from KHS several years ago, but it was too tempting not to go up to the KHS shelter for a third.  The crowd of people wanting to adopt a kitten was overwhelming, and my youngest daughter and I stood, sat, and wandered the facility for several hours.  We'd been warned when we came in that because our number was so high, there was a possibility that there wouldn't be any adoptables even before our number was called.
As it turned out, there was one cat left at the end of the numbers called.  The cat wasn't even there, but was in foster care, and there was a poster of him hanging on the wall.  We'd seen the cat on the KHS website and had liked him, so I spoke up and said we'd take him.  We're glad we did.
Meet Toby...

Thank you, KHS, for Toby and for a wonderful time at Woofstock!!!

Remembering

Last week was filled with sadness.  On Tuesday, my aunt passed away.  She's pictured at left with my uncle (my mother's only brother) in his uniform in front of the house where I grew up.  That's the neighbor's house in the photo.  For me, it was the last of my family, except for the cousins.  Of course there are many, many of those.

My uncle passed away in May, and at that time I became aware that my aunt's health was failing.  Because of her dementia, I battled with myself about going to visit her, knowing she probably wouldn't recognize me.  I couldn't convince myself that I could handle it well and, as it turned out, I didn't visit.  I'm not having any regrets.  Why?  Because I have a lot of memories of both my aunt and my uncle, and I like remembering them that way.

My aunt lived with my parents for a time just after I was born and while my uncle served in Korea.  Because I was a small baby, I don't remember it, but I do remember the stories my aunt told me over the years, of how I wouldn't go to sleep until my dad, on second shift, got home from work.

My aunt and uncle had two boys, both younger than me, and I can remember watching The Wizard of Oz for the very first time on TV, with the oldest of the boys on my lap.  I remember that around that time, my aunt was pregnant with the younger one. I remember my uncle's model and balsa airplanes hanging on strings from the ceiling in the basement and the flowers that lined the side of the house by the driveway.  That was in the first house in the city where I remember them living.  After that, they moved to a house in the country, where my uncle farmed what had been land owned by my grandparents.

My aunt's best friend's daughter, who is three years older than I am, had come to live with them and became their legal ward.  I can remember the staircase in that old farmhouse and a few other things, but what I remember most about those times was going to our great aunts' and uncles' homes for holidays.  That's when we all had fun!  Then there were the family reunions.  I especially remember one where the older of the boy cousins broke his arm.

My aunt loved to sew and taught me how one summer when I spent two weeks on the farm with them.  I was as proud as can be of the ruffled apron I made, and even prouder a couple of years later when my 4-H entry (a simple top and matching gathered skirt) earned a 2nd place ribbon at the State Fair.  Later, she turned to crafts, sewing dolls, stuffed toys, and other items, while my uncle did woodcrafting.

When my cousins were grown, my aunt and uncle moved to a house on Table Rock Lake near Branson, Mo., and my then husband and I and our daughters visited at least once a year.  Later on, they bought a fifth-wheel travel trailer and a big motorcycle.  With one to live in on the road and the other to see the road on, they traveled the U.S. and Canada, having a ball.  They loved Indianapolis and watching the races, and since their oldest son had moved to Alabama, they frequented the track at Talladega.

After returned to small town living where they were nearer their family, they wintered in Florida in their fifth-wheel and returned home in the summer to help with harvest.  They both enjoyed their grandkids to the max and will be missed, always, by all of them and by me.

In my mind, I can see them sitting around the table with my uncle's parents, my mother and dad, their uncles and aunts, and other family who have all gone before them, playing pitch and having the time of their afterlives.  No sense in telling them to rest in peace.  They're having too much fun to want to rest.