tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8694162607092803512024-02-19T11:31:59.889-05:00beverlysbuzz.blogspot.comJust one act of kindness is all it takes to make a day productive.BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-15565418174673043212024-01-27T11:20:00.002-05:002024-02-01T10:24:02.468-05:00Getting Older<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLy0C3f4jVvu1k9I5Tb6VXnZA6ucjwSfbUwDHnnnPx6CLMLfgQZxRrTU4pdXTNYVXMwcr8yOhEP3gibPgRsLDlyKuyJoE6qGdQR-nDejFrJbrOcbfIQGivinqC-R5bxL17juU-RV5tAreI88s2r5ZBSeWUUcZN6FZG-M9FrBRoGqZ0EWkkjrR9QikpnNi/s640/shells.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLy0C3f4jVvu1k9I5Tb6VXnZA6ucjwSfbUwDHnnnPx6CLMLfgQZxRrTU4pdXTNYVXMwcr8yOhEP3gibPgRsLDlyKuyJoE6qGdQR-nDejFrJbrOcbfIQGivinqC-R5bxL17juU-RV5tAreI88s2r5ZBSeWUUcZN6FZG-M9FrBRoGqZ0EWkkjrR9QikpnNi/w320-h240/shells.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Each of these seashells is different. On Earth, no two are exactly the same. Nor are two people exactly the same. Like seashells we are all unique in color, shape, wrinkles, chips, cracks and beauty.<p></p><p>This morning, I woke up and my Achilles tendon didn't hurt (after a year!), my pulled shoulder muscle is 99% better, I've passed what I hope is my last kidney stone, and I have a healthy appetite. My house is cozy, my refrigerator is full, I have reliable transportation. My blessings are too many to count. My older me is thankful to the younger me. </p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-77693807644427166002024-01-12T10:23:00.006-05:002024-01-12T10:29:15.342-05:00Happy Accidents<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kmpRaGDJTTcutPpvXCo5hvoBL_ci4mP37xYKgeYxqeCTonV_LiCuD2VSz6i5YebJedXuMXVsOOHJbZ29GGkLOibrxdaNWmLfoPG44PBoUkc-vAETVMxUhllW4nPwCT4UR0WfgJzhzUR0Cr_F9iR8ycTM_CM-r1tZ_zUV22qd4jIS2ODxB3zidpzBE_ID/s4080/IMG_20231223_131001854.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kmpRaGDJTTcutPpvXCo5hvoBL_ci4mP37xYKgeYxqeCTonV_LiCuD2VSz6i5YebJedXuMXVsOOHJbZ29GGkLOibrxdaNWmLfoPG44PBoUkc-vAETVMxUhllW4nPwCT4UR0WfgJzhzUR0Cr_F9iR8ycTM_CM-r1tZ_zUV22qd4jIS2ODxB3zidpzBE_ID/s320/IMG_20231223_131001854.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />The cooking shows make cake and cookie decorating look easy. This is my attempt to make cookies. They were supposed to be round ornaments. That didn't happen! What a mess. These melted snowmen were a happy accident. <p></p><p>This year I hope we all have happy accidents that remind us "it will all be okay" in the end.</p><p>I still don't like to cook.</p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-89520326045483255382023-12-16T13:43:00.002-05:002024-01-28T10:34:35.361-05:00Merry Christmas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWeOGoldlNiKM3WqjF3lVUbHmb6NytFFp6l89KYD_ooDF5utIoxKB_0kUS4kngSVbBR1hsO220jjj8MRFZM1e61iPk11ZJtkrUo7Q3cSVkPZAkUxhtFkK-0WGfzgOFcUl034mUQfg4bsQ349pn84MOpZTdAcVe60nQo9jpPEkAj1CLaJhq9YO_Nvsfvmz/s4080/IMG_20231211_171603551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWeOGoldlNiKM3WqjF3lVUbHmb6NytFFp6l89KYD_ooDF5utIoxKB_0kUS4kngSVbBR1hsO220jjj8MRFZM1e61iPk11ZJtkrUo7Q3cSVkPZAkUxhtFkK-0WGfzgOFcUl034mUQfg4bsQ349pn84MOpZTdAcVe60nQo9jpPEkAj1CLaJhq9YO_Nvsfvmz/w151-h200/IMG_20231211_171603551.jpg" width="151" /></a></div><div><br /></div>This year is another Christmas for my shoebox tree. At church we sell trees for a fund raiser. There were fewer trees and higher prices so I'm opting for my little one. It's easy to set up, fits in the spot, and is just darn cute. A present even fits under it! <p></p><p>As I get older, I truly find that it's the thought that counts. </p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Merriweather; font-size: x-large;">M</span><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Merriweather; font-size: x-large;">erry </span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Merriweather; font-size: x-large;">C</span><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Merriweather; font-size: x-large;">hristmas</span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Merriweather; font-size: x-large;">!</span></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-67878324181535191232023-10-30T14:22:00.003-04:002023-10-30T14:22:48.539-04:00Halloween Fun<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjxuOb5H7hkQQPoDvZACcQ3tQHXqusQlM2cEckeIrmNXe5bl5EPZt_zeAatTYvPbNPnipRsvYXVZYSMmi7CBI1kLvAYnpm6gxxJQ-C_u2nRkAX4AvoiNGA3dzmaBEEd6ZKRiKsqkVrImMcUxr_iAcUuO1n0L9dRw9cuZ73Cf8DS30b3UhH57stdwCaKfJh/s4080/IMG_20231012_105123733_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjxuOb5H7hkQQPoDvZACcQ3tQHXqusQlM2cEckeIrmNXe5bl5EPZt_zeAatTYvPbNPnipRsvYXVZYSMmi7CBI1kLvAYnpm6gxxJQ-C_u2nRkAX4AvoiNGA3dzmaBEEd6ZKRiKsqkVrImMcUxr_iAcUuO1n0L9dRw9cuZ73Cf8DS30b3UhH57stdwCaKfJh/s320/IMG_20231012_105123733_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>When my niece was little we had so much Halloween fun. Now she's grown with little ones of her own. She told me she has such happy memories of the spooky fun that she's making sure the tradition carries on. </p><p>Life moves in cycles.</p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-37217067077408276152023-08-25T17:01:00.005-04:002024-02-15T09:58:17.309-05:00Family Reunion<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvryd9gaITWFKhSX_XdEs09cbDBEffo90yO2IQ0-PhNMYbzZ8Bd-WYEA9EDQWG_c2xbVRIy-U0W1HjIbs7xaQmMXNNyggJ7dAhX2gt8c1Iu0KimsKZV0WTx0EusXsRnc2kF0iOsUfC5w-fNAYyv6jXLkl5Qff_ELpjYSL6mPrTiBu5PrSh3RSo6oEb9kkc/s4080/IMG_20230824_092737230.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvryd9gaITWFKhSX_XdEs09cbDBEffo90yO2IQ0-PhNMYbzZ8Bd-WYEA9EDQWG_c2xbVRIy-U0W1HjIbs7xaQmMXNNyggJ7dAhX2gt8c1Iu0KimsKZV0WTx0EusXsRnc2kF0iOsUfC5w-fNAYyv6jXLkl5Qff_ELpjYSL6mPrTiBu5PrSh3RSo6oEb9kkc/w151-h200/IMG_20230824_092737230.jpg" width="151" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p></blockquote><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;">This summer I had baby birds in one of the birdhouses I hung up. I'd walk by and hear chirp, chirp, chirp. There was a whole brood of them. One day, no chirping. The birds had flown away from home. I'd see them around the yard. It's funny watching them learn to fly. They'd play in the bushes. They used my outside table as a "fort" hopping around. This is a family portrait. So funny.</p></blockquote><p></p><p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-67776582729500975582023-06-01T15:42:00.000-04:002023-06-01T15:42:01.500-04:00Birdsong<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWvC9AKV9jlCPU1CDSdD_-h8137mVGT4AT1ON074K-Vam0UbcDZfRGk-t00uq5lhESo5hxwhbFDWZ6kF7gl5cUm56g0Et7HWWw3rXOKM8m47GfHKD0a-krbnenOC7gC8pAb2hpWWmip4D352oS9WnM8-SjaFywlYj_G2r6vty7R5QXHDBifOkqTN49A/s1024/DSCN1029_020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWvC9AKV9jlCPU1CDSdD_-h8137mVGT4AT1ON074K-Vam0UbcDZfRGk-t00uq5lhESo5hxwhbFDWZ6kF7gl5cUm56g0Et7HWWw3rXOKM8m47GfHKD0a-krbnenOC7gC8pAb2hpWWmip4D352oS9WnM8-SjaFywlYj_G2r6vty7R5QXHDBifOkqTN49A/s320/DSCN1029_020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Knock, knock? Anyone home? I have bird houses in my backyard. In the spring I can hear baby birds chirping. I don't often see the parents though. On this day I captured a potential tenant checking out the property. <p></p><p>I always relaxed hearing birds sing. Now I've read there is a study that birdsong rewires the brain. It seems birdsong reaches very deep into our subconscious and reminds us to be part of the life on Earth.</p><p>So tweet on!<br /> </p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-44172297548763995032023-03-11T14:52:00.001-05:002024-02-01T10:22:37.841-05:00Paperless?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z2BS0_eFiehCDYwhKJOTpkaiEiygjhBHoMFstEexA3tYfV-ub5oTHxJ9uVLgChYDQF97hCTADUlTfBn5wHAzdFkBNCuAsKv3uBgFusq8VWMguzkaxjwEFT46E8mMKD8IUkggH6D2S0WYuj95_hUDWlgbrgKJ2L7Mm2uWKbTfO3qLe7TUIWg6XnvSUg/s4080/IMG_20230309_144458981.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0z2BS0_eFiehCDYwhKJOTpkaiEiygjhBHoMFstEexA3tYfV-ub5oTHxJ9uVLgChYDQF97hCTADUlTfBn5wHAzdFkBNCuAsKv3uBgFusq8VWMguzkaxjwEFT46E8mMKD8IUkggH6D2S0WYuj95_hUDWlgbrgKJ2L7Mm2uWKbTfO3qLe7TUIWg6XnvSUg/w151-h200/IMG_20230309_144458981.jpg" width="151" /></a></div><p><br /></p>I'm a librarian. I organize information. I maintain records for over 120,000 items not to mention all the electronic titles I manage. Is it any wonder I cringe at the sight of my personal file drawer?<p></p><p>So much for a "paperless" society!!!</p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-19596475281504074942023-02-26T12:44:00.000-05:002023-02-26T12:44:22.763-05:00Where's my banana?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5NXm9DGi32k2eVUC5l8e5rBBD7DPdi1W8_6czYXj1H0M_TXgnzE9KcDMSkdfpruCnmIQDzxEoEgO34ZwULLqyHcRRn5jcxX2OgL_Tn_trDILE6YtLUej1MGebpE9y_ud91CDJwu4A3uN5T0vGUIW5ahBTJx7oAqfEI0fcEG7o1vL9IqCRBZjvn_nouw/s3264/IMG_20230225_103704364_PORTRAIT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5NXm9DGi32k2eVUC5l8e5rBBD7DPdi1W8_6czYXj1H0M_TXgnzE9KcDMSkdfpruCnmIQDzxEoEgO34ZwULLqyHcRRn5jcxX2OgL_Tn_trDILE6YtLUej1MGebpE9y_ud91CDJwu4A3uN5T0vGUIW5ahBTJx7oAqfEI0fcEG7o1vL9IqCRBZjvn_nouw/w150-h200/IMG_20230225_103704364_PORTRAIT.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>I got home from church and noticed the "key battery" light was blinking in my car. I came in the house, grabbed a banana (it's almost lunch time), peeled the banana and took a bite. Then I sat at the computer to look up how to change the battery. Found the instructions, popped open the key, changed the battery. Tested it (It worked!) and was thinking "that was easy" but then thought "where's my banana?" I don't remember eating it. I looked for it but couldn't find it. Did I eat it? If you need me to change a key battery, I'm the girl. Banana recovery? Not me. I hope I ate it or I'm sure to find a gooey black mess. Getting old is not for the weak.<p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-64531970323691619852023-02-07T13:35:00.003-05:002024-02-01T10:20:27.918-05:00Quiet Time<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiXKI1N748FQCdgF_Hgzd_MjYoKGCXj1oEbk4qYec_EEe1Gnc286nXTIrTSrJUJKjyXba_0HQlJQhL6T3Q7785oyEOvLD1QbyhcempBtzXWN0ykcAlNwuHzNk5q6VujPNVZkdB-65egGesmjHW2yTmLU2tGgFnzAb6mU7mBTp5zXlgE7DwzQdvJQcTmQ/s736/f125afb85416a4f9c0640b83be312f89.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="736" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiXKI1N748FQCdgF_Hgzd_MjYoKGCXj1oEbk4qYec_EEe1Gnc286nXTIrTSrJUJKjyXba_0HQlJQhL6T3Q7785oyEOvLD1QbyhcempBtzXWN0ykcAlNwuHzNk5q6VujPNVZkdB-65egGesmjHW2yTmLU2tGgFnzAb6mU7mBTp5zXlgE7DwzQdvJQcTmQ/w200-h200/f125afb85416a4f9c0640b83be312f89.jpg" title="from Pinterest" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><p>After a career of working, conferences, power lunches, and all other sorts of "peopling" I'm retired, and I've stopped. I'm happy with a cup of coffee and a whimsical novel or work of literature. I don't go to movies (too close of quarters), eat at restaurants (too noisy), or drive on the interstate (too nerve wracking), or travel (all too much) so I'm done with all that. </p><p>I work part-time at the library, volunteer at church, putter in my garden, chat with neighbors, and read. It's wonderful to sit back and appreciate the quiet life I've created. I pray everyone can be as blessed.</p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-80869674481615095252022-12-17T11:36:00.001-05:002022-12-17T11:36:38.181-05:00Oh, Christmas Tree!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmaFZc_E7mBMBBjwVNCdDj6rUd1fUP2TqTW_aPkeN66tje3zdbbi50H1XpainH3qcm136egXUqkbz81TNlkmUNxHh33PBiolqZxrFNzPYuYZN7cp9OBvEJIQjrmUfJJu7jkmrOtsxGflU8bD6X0lrycGVX0CvbR-hohFGA1KQF6Dy_whI7lgZ7ALJ4Q/s4080/IMG_20221211_145245_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmaFZc_E7mBMBBjwVNCdDj6rUd1fUP2TqTW_aPkeN66tje3zdbbi50H1XpainH3qcm136egXUqkbz81TNlkmUNxHh33PBiolqZxrFNzPYuYZN7cp9OBvEJIQjrmUfJJu7jkmrOtsxGflU8bD6X0lrycGVX0CvbR-hohFGA1KQF6Dy_whI7lgZ7ALJ4Q/w151-h200/IMG_20221211_145245_01.jpg" title="Oh, Christmas Tree" width="151" /></a></div><br />Over the years I've collected many ornaments. I have a storage bin entirely filled with Hallmark ornaments. Last year I used them. This year I used the other bin that is filled with personal ornaments. Raggedy Ann and Andy that Ann made from dough, sparkly dinosaur from the Smithsonian institution, a boat labeled U.S.S. Robt E. Hills for my dad, and last but not least a bag of coal that my Mom and I passed back and forth for 20 years.<p></p><p>I like this year's tree the best. Blessings to you for a warm Christmas.</p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-81009089395595728832022-12-03T10:21:00.002-05:002022-12-03T10:28:40.001-05:00Chill!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIlvedkn29cb_0RauwJOjJenlrhgBByzc20aJmASKatdU72I0s6AlqYz9y4eSarOK-XXxEown-L0GmmliKSWGnGfbrkWzqQ8-Gda0J_wAVfkNVcWYzvEbjbrTMiIRl95wjo-xMTHjNjyBHr1UM64juW-l__8oAM97dDYBEMfJn0cs57dCB24XcW8cKcA/s3000/IMG_20220716_135425~2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2250" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIlvedkn29cb_0RauwJOjJenlrhgBByzc20aJmASKatdU72I0s6AlqYz9y4eSarOK-XXxEown-L0GmmliKSWGnGfbrkWzqQ8-Gda0J_wAVfkNVcWYzvEbjbrTMiIRl95wjo-xMTHjNjyBHr1UM64juW-l__8oAM97dDYBEMfJn0cs57dCB24XcW8cKcA/w191-h254/IMG_20220716_135425~2.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br />I love this picture of Hula. She's just relaxing and watching all the activity. <div>She feels no need to participate, criticize, or respond. </div><div>Talk about setting boundaries! <p></p><p>You can't take responsibility for something you have no authority over. You drive your bus, I'll drive mine. Just remember, at any time I can say "I'm getting off here."</p><p>Oh, and have a Merry Christmas no matter how you celebrate.</p></div>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-18658308889926435902022-10-22T13:56:00.007-04:002024-02-01T11:13:31.055-05:00Breathe<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6uy3jq6syHQ3bByk7j54ma83CLYrRzoAoF2O9KV6ecx1Ht5GfjtcBmBkxVSuddVy9XhbRX7u7rJWd3cvLk7CRB9jpj1cSIL0OICTVcZ504HRFKcc1bLKbCxzis8Os8C-WIcXgLxm-lTFhYFPbZLuT75kIGpUK4Rl0ZFfzV6h-AkZcFI4Zm_Qif7kWA/s720/435d7e9c27203697e60bf19e8a9086e3.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="539" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb6uy3jq6syHQ3bByk7j54ma83CLYrRzoAoF2O9KV6ecx1Ht5GfjtcBmBkxVSuddVy9XhbRX7u7rJWd3cvLk7CRB9jpj1cSIL0OICTVcZ504HRFKcc1bLKbCxzis8Os8C-WIcXgLxm-lTFhYFPbZLuT75kIGpUK4Rl0ZFfzV6h-AkZcFI4Zm_Qif7kWA/s320/435d7e9c27203697e60bf19e8a9086e3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Sometimes I just need to let go. I let go of planning anything. I let go of worrying about what is going to happen. I let go of thinking I am responsible for anyone else's life. I have no authority over how other people behave, feel, or react. If I have no authority, then I have no responsibility. I let go of thinking I am responsible for anything other than my own affairs. Other people can take care of themselves better than I can.<p>Work hard (there are many kinds of work), be humble (no need to be any more than you already are) and do good (just smiling counts as good).</p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-87631615680557940252022-08-09T12:33:00.005-04:002022-08-09T12:38:00.802-04:00No More Unspoiled Beaches<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyk2qG841oUkQM6we4BCeOXwNVvBYoaJamnVORd0kI_L_GGVO3KaX8r_7Hc3AtcFLMobXqyXh-3XkcR4NAeZUoiNLwP5EzVXsE9BVPDlt18CUzuAP9F1hCUnSzJ-ulSzAXCiw1OCTyAsQSK2nLtb0aDR_-zX-3rMuolYNE8yeOOQ3ldqcrcDLfzC-eQQ/s1024/DSCN0221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyk2qG841oUkQM6we4BCeOXwNVvBYoaJamnVORd0kI_L_GGVO3KaX8r_7Hc3AtcFLMobXqyXh-3XkcR4NAeZUoiNLwP5EzVXsE9BVPDlt18CUzuAP9F1hCUnSzJ-ulSzAXCiw1OCTyAsQSK2nLtb0aDR_-zX-3rMuolYNE8yeOOQ3ldqcrcDLfzC-eQQ/s320/DSCN0221.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>With all the crazy growth in Virginia Beach we have lost any of our charm. No more unspoiled beaches, small cottages, or seaside amusement parks. Sadly, it's rare to even get a view of the ocean in between all the gigantic "oceanfront" hotels. As a local, I can't even find a place to park! Thankfully my neighborhood is land locked so it's pretty stable. I do miss the quirky spots that used to make Virginia Beach unique. Now we're just like any other "resort" city that has been commercialized. Sad.<p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-86661545831244168802022-06-01T15:53:00.007-04:002024-02-01T11:14:06.363-05:00Wishful Thinking<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuduXd8aiDiPJOaXQcDxPWnc0eUjf8aXj6MfbjUCz2MgqFqxm2L_NJoBK58svmIBT5tH6HyLV3MEB57fPK80Rv4VCuiJaJtesxhKuETLX1wQO3ZuTiJ5pODdyRU2Rl-bRiJIZaDtVg7Azt08-GP9FGO7D8cqEiPukDpOlPDeMt6nemdtiqJdkveS_-Pg/s640/IM000724.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuduXd8aiDiPJOaXQcDxPWnc0eUjf8aXj6MfbjUCz2MgqFqxm2L_NJoBK58svmIBT5tH6HyLV3MEB57fPK80Rv4VCuiJaJtesxhKuETLX1wQO3ZuTiJ5pODdyRU2Rl-bRiJIZaDtVg7Azt08-GP9FGO7D8cqEiPukDpOlPDeMt6nemdtiqJdkveS_-Pg/w200-h150/IM000724.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><p>It's so hot outside that I feel nauseous if I'm out for more than a few minutes. Maybe I'm getting older. Maybe I'm spoiled by air conditioning. Maybe I'm happy to be inside with a book. Or maybe, just maybe, </p><p>IT IS HOT OUTSIDE!!!</p><p></p><p>Excuse me while I go chill out.</p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-57022990914149025532022-05-10T13:30:00.003-04:002024-02-01T11:14:30.792-05:00Welcome Home<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWALGsudsc_-H2A2jexdWfVlrGyTcdepGUOq9-9GDGFdDg6nKvyLuVXRN8tpMrXfvFWU9kuhtfTv2JdHoMrYBBhmN7lhltA8hh9s9e7e6IkEf24l2aSdVCCFDJperucou8FjotqeJzjGji4_CSNe5D8n70vdpTvcxlOMy2UH92Q1DamDAwxkZpnh07A/s4096/IMG_20220423_145103898.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWALGsudsc_-H2A2jexdWfVlrGyTcdepGUOq9-9GDGFdDg6nKvyLuVXRN8tpMrXfvFWU9kuhtfTv2JdHoMrYBBhmN7lhltA8hh9s9e7e6IkEf24l2aSdVCCFDJperucou8FjotqeJzjGji4_CSNe5D8n70vdpTvcxlOMy2UH92Q1DamDAwxkZpnh07A/w150-h200/IMG_20220423_145103898.jpg" title="Welcome" width="150" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>This wreath on my front door says it all. Welcome to my happy place. As I have gotten older, I have less desire to go on adventures. Heck, traveling to Norfolk is an adventure now and I've done that once in the last five years. I am content to work in my garden, read a good book, or browse through a magazine. It has taken awhile for me to learn that we all lead lives as we see fit. Every life is unique. Rejoice in living whatever life makes you happy!<p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-34804314836100936682022-03-04T19:14:00.001-05:002022-03-04T19:18:01.234-05:00Morning Ritual<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiw89Tevpa563LTYEvn4_SC53dIMNlBNshPSnMFeJ2Rpdde2z0uXa3snMkL9pXLIYsGg_EvYKvYd1lfyGV3gmWREWDkVI2YarSJh9Ef5VHZHHSSzRrQV-22CnNmIq4qpOUwIPzx0VUyjJLip52uznJsGZvO1fcYNlH0RmlMLagJIRe7fdUHMcoAw9VqqA=s4096" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiw89Tevpa563LTYEvn4_SC53dIMNlBNshPSnMFeJ2Rpdde2z0uXa3snMkL9pXLIYsGg_EvYKvYd1lfyGV3gmWREWDkVI2YarSJh9Ef5VHZHHSSzRrQV-22CnNmIq4qpOUwIPzx0VUyjJLip52uznJsGZvO1fcYNlH0RmlMLagJIRe7fdUHMcoAw9VqqA=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><span><div style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">My favorite time of day is early morning. I have my coffee, my toast, and the newspaper. The sun comes in from my deck and lights up my room. Life is full of these simple pleasures. The challenge is to slow down and enjoy them. It's easier for me now... I'm retired!</span></div></span><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><p></p></div>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-11280584792478900632022-01-30T12:10:00.003-05:002022-03-04T19:17:28.461-05:00Snowy Gnome<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhxiHp0-1G56860yEAff6hDwrE5K72lOugd5CCqwiRwSUkPp60l9960NEf8EnbG9Fs1KvgkCiI6lnm1Z8v6iotI_BT_4z1LSnMISCW2EX0wXeWUot0REqSFoUWBELUERD0gU5Rux2tlW0a7egmSUWMO8CvIknEK--xuFxMmbRzVETBKbt68ElUv4fpznA=s4096" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhxiHp0-1G56860yEAff6hDwrE5K72lOugd5CCqwiRwSUkPp60l9960NEf8EnbG9Fs1KvgkCiI6lnm1Z8v6iotI_BT_4z1LSnMISCW2EX0wXeWUot0REqSFoUWBELUERD0gU5Rux2tlW0a7egmSUWMO8CvIknEK--xuFxMmbRzVETBKbt68ElUv4fpznA=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><p><br /></p>We've had some snow. Not a lot but enough to remind me to appreciate the warm days when I can work in my garden. I've started carrying a pedometer to track how many steps I take each day. On the days I go outside I average about 3,000. On "snow days" I'm averaging about 300. Most of those 300 are to the refrigerator. I start back to work next week where I will step on the scales to see how much I weigh. I'm scared.<p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-57207084396085247782022-01-03T16:31:00.003-05:002022-01-03T16:31:37.542-05:00Time moves on...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgO-TJ3FnmmV1HlekR9M_jEf3nkzTUS-aXzEW9HCUl4dDLVIDQ0St5adOSVdSzO8nohQTbmoFeOgxLjAy3KHNav6ZicX_OnQK4qCi1j4KLe5gm342ODNSkCe0eAX-xego8bsrdIW0GcI3_9_twOYvYjpG2JevMEfZbzA1vsY6aLuLzE38_0Ap7RmnM4Hw=s640" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgO-TJ3FnmmV1HlekR9M_jEf3nkzTUS-aXzEW9HCUl4dDLVIDQ0St5adOSVdSzO8nohQTbmoFeOgxLjAy3KHNav6ZicX_OnQK4qCi1j4KLe5gm342ODNSkCe0eAX-xego8bsrdIW0GcI3_9_twOYvYjpG2JevMEfZbzA1vsY6aLuLzE38_0Ap7RmnM4Hw=w200-h150" width="200" /></a></div>This is a picture of an older Virginia Beach house that was converted to a pet spa and then torn down about 5 years ago. The longer I live in Virginia Beach the more I see all the quaint landmarks disappear. It's sad because without local charm VB is not any different from any other metro city. So much for "resort" destination. <p></p><p> Happy 2022!</p><p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-35443583076976993582021-12-13T17:03:00.006-05:002024-02-01T11:14:53.801-05:00Dog Love<p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlYfFjzAYtJgEzQtjB11M--oohvFhrBRgaUXNsneKBzdUyU2hVDyqMn2Q5EVCubLUj0q0K-TsyRoZItSsRG20TCj6Z8VJSCDWFKqUUx776SgOLcT2FsYaqq1_N01QuAjWbER30SgqhHkW_eMQayOuDHEpJKYSMH8pNYGEXkzpasDZjHgIdWXlnrkX2LA=s4096" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhlYfFjzAYtJgEzQtjB11M--oohvFhrBRgaUXNsneKBzdUyU2hVDyqMn2Q5EVCubLUj0q0K-TsyRoZItSsRG20TCj6Z8VJSCDWFKqUUx776SgOLcT2FsYaqq1_N01QuAjWbER30SgqhHkW_eMQayOuDHEpJKYSMH8pNYGEXkzpasDZjHgIdWXlnrkX2LA=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br />This is my niece's dog Hula Hoop. She is a very BIG girl. As she's gotten older, so have I. I don't mind so much that she uses my couch as a dog bed. Us old girls understand each other. I love her and she's always happy to see me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-76570968726884069852021-07-06T15:13:00.001-04:002021-07-06T15:13:22.459-04:00An Ordinary Day<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOKzegtIpKuaAFZXx9zxylV7RQxA1c4Z0Efg2OGqdeMnmcCi3r4KMlVykpRMfak2RjMt2P8WFOQwVwqlF80MxuRhGT6E1xkJBjpyVR7fchNwMHixCDCY9_ZpfTb702cEbicRRJizOspEN/s4096/IMG_20210609_074645716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOKzegtIpKuaAFZXx9zxylV7RQxA1c4Z0Efg2OGqdeMnmcCi3r4KMlVykpRMfak2RjMt2P8WFOQwVwqlF80MxuRhGT6E1xkJBjpyVR7fchNwMHixCDCY9_ZpfTb702cEbicRRJizOspEN/s320/IMG_20210609_074645716.jpg" /></a></div><br />There is something sacred about an ordinary day. I've said that many times and will say it many more. What is an ordinary day for me? Everyone I know is healthy. The sun is shining and the garden is alive with colorful flowers. I sip coffee while I work the newspaper's crossword puzzle. After my morning part-time job I drive to the grocery store and buy good food for dinner. American Ninja Warrior is on TV tonight. I have a lamp to see by when I read in the evenings. I go to sleep in a bed with clean sheets. <p></p><p>An ordinary day. Isn't it wonderful?</p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-85469501801496960202021-04-28T16:17:00.005-04:002021-04-28T16:21:16.171-04:00Purple People<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimyZ5PtoD-czaWwTnl4z4PIWLqmhn894HqikA7OeRUlxPJe5oeDE2V9aKSSbP_uU7OP7Kj_WTXWRtHltMokPHar2phaUdURkf5SntHPtRYOlLOqmFfuxdPxCQ2BBiH8nk3CwHgTXf0kmD_/s1280/DSCN1997.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimyZ5PtoD-czaWwTnl4z4PIWLqmhn894HqikA7OeRUlxPJe5oeDE2V9aKSSbP_uU7OP7Kj_WTXWRtHltMokPHar2phaUdURkf5SntHPtRYOlLOqmFfuxdPxCQ2BBiH8nk3CwHgTXf0kmD_/w320-h240/DSCN1997.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>It's okay to be different everyone from everyone else.<div><br /></div><div>These iris are all lovely. All the yellow ones are a little bit different from each other. The purple one is doing only what a purple one can do... being the best purple she can be! </div><div><div><br /></div><div>So if you get a chance be a purple person. But watch out for the one armed, one eye, giant, purple people eater!<br /> <p></p></div></div>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-79866387627430378742021-03-11T16:29:00.004-05:002024-02-01T11:15:37.461-05:00Funny Crows<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMulusOQxwZ_je-CZJcEMwHyClPQSMC7MfcIl-udRNAsY_KYsCjGaT-N0JFDNym_tqxjpydE24NPLfWCfoDpGaGyOYgIEMUNk2sCFcV2pjKtRsvoNGpQUl1ElG00l7RIBXuu3ALmRa6yb/s2048/DSCN1918_208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMulusOQxwZ_je-CZJcEMwHyClPQSMC7MfcIl-udRNAsY_KYsCjGaT-N0JFDNym_tqxjpydE24NPLfWCfoDpGaGyOYgIEMUNk2sCFcV2pjKtRsvoNGpQUl1ElG00l7RIBXuu3ALmRa6yb/w320-h241/DSCN1918_208.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This is a good time of year for me. I work in the yard and miss my Casey but I can still feel her with me. <p></p><p>Funny story... I put out a shallow dish with some mealworms in it. The crows (Heckyl, Jeckyl, & Moe) love mealworms. Anyway, Heckyl saw the dish and went crazy! He gobbled up all the worms and then when there was nothing left but dust he kept pecking. I guess crows have tongues but not long enough to lick the dish. It was funny. Almost as funny as me flapping my arms and saying "caw caw." I don't think they understand my dialect.<br /> </p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-37963123708594414772021-02-18T16:26:00.003-05:002021-02-28T12:19:43.896-05:00Perseverance <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWYjHVrQc8546f7BMkvIK_SMcb8JXLd50xRjcWB6fva1C-PxgevozV5g8xdXEzl_DOjnaz2PA9jTs1Jo_kvSRvWMQ2Qo7zpU3CQsOk723J1Z34K09aruidJ0CLcSzvndX5sZNrru7tgua/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="112" data-original-width="112" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWYjHVrQc8546f7BMkvIK_SMcb8JXLd50xRjcWB6fva1C-PxgevozV5g8xdXEzl_DOjnaz2PA9jTs1Jo_kvSRvWMQ2Qo7zpU3CQsOk723J1Z34K09aruidJ0CLcSzvndX5sZNrru7tgua/" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>The rover Perseverance just landed on Mars. If mankind can land on Mars imagine what we could do if we aimed for peace on Earth. </p><p><a href="https://mars.nasa.gov/mars2020/multimedia/raw-images/" target="_blank">Raw images from Mars</a></p><p>This rendered image from <a href="https://www.nasa.gov/nasalive" target="_blank">NASA Live</a> <br /></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-76030059288518691452020-12-05T14:46:00.000-05:002020-12-05T14:46:04.727-05:00Time to bloom!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYr4sggRSfKNSqHo3M43pW0_dXCKngkjN22JASJyeJMYk6HSUTaVZCZrmB9kx0NZqNycHkS9yUdRO3RQZSq0G_fMATQvxKFCo_LY4SIAZ1W95XpvE1ICBWS86alexVQDXn2rancDfummHI/s2048/IMG_20201201_163128709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYr4sggRSfKNSqHo3M43pW0_dXCKngkjN22JASJyeJMYk6HSUTaVZCZrmB9kx0NZqNycHkS9yUdRO3RQZSq0G_fMATQvxKFCo_LY4SIAZ1W95XpvE1ICBWS86alexVQDXn2rancDfummHI/w155-h207/IMG_20201201_163128709.jpg" width="155" /></a></div><p><br /></p>This clematis is "supposed" to bloom in the spring. This one and only flower is blooming in December. Nature has a way of letting us know when the time is right for an action or decision. I've realized that if I'm having a hard time with a decision then it's not the right time to make it. Getting older sort of makes me feel young again when I say "No, I don't feel like it." So I don't need a reason and I don't need to explain. I just don't feel like it, I may never feel like it, or I may feel like it on Tuesday. Ah, wisdom. <p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-869416260709280351.post-53199123565664664702020-10-07T16:40:00.008-04:002024-02-01T11:16:12.605-05:00Luka Love<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgas7gyiXMEHyz1FzipHy77Czhbk2ljdmjw8MASDerT7Xwgt3f9uIr4JbZQ6AqQkeDAD8yPv2VAfAOxdLjnF3bUJrm5KL_2MftOgP9gd-3y7RPP7DxM5mPRGYnWYdiWC8-4CRUhQrZsaC-J/s2048/IMG_20200906_201257.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgas7gyiXMEHyz1FzipHy77Czhbk2ljdmjw8MASDerT7Xwgt3f9uIr4JbZQ6AqQkeDAD8yPv2VAfAOxdLjnF3bUJrm5KL_2MftOgP9gd-3y7RPP7DxM5mPRGYnWYdiWC8-4CRUhQrZsaC-J/w150-h200/IMG_20200906_201257.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br />My niece brought her baby to me. I remember holding her as a baby so it was very joyful when she put him in my arms. At one point we were under the umbrella and I put my knees up so I could rest him on them facing me and talk to him. He started to squawk. So I turned him around so he could see all the trees and he was quietly looking all around. This is me talking to him and telling him all about the big wide world. There were other pictures but this one is my favorite. It is the beginning of a beautiful relationship. <p></p>BookSandBeachhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07220925196269073546noreply@blogger.com1