For six years I have been living in a manufactured home. I love this home – I really can't afford this home – but love it. And if I find a couple of roommates, I would most definitely be able to afford to renovate this home.
When I remove the decorations and Christmas tree, I'm going to want to change things. Lately I've been wanting to paint the walls – I even asked my kids to paint them for me as a Christmas present, but so far, nobody is offering. Could it be that everybody is busy? Oh, yes!
For a manufactured home, this one is actually very nice, but the carpeting is old and it was never placed properly – even before I moved in. So new carpeting would be first on my list. And in the space between the dining room and the family room, I'd like to put a wall with a wide opening that curves on both sides – very much like the entryways curve in older homes. Right now I have two white wooden rails that separate my dining room from my sunk-in family room. I love the idea of curving my entryway.
But any renovation costs money (I'm waiting to win the lottery, and winning the lottery requires buying a ticket). Though my neighbor helps out a lot, I wouldn't want to ask him for such a major job. So where do I look?
I would probably start with BuildDirect reviews to see what others have to say about local builders, look at the jobs they've performed, and make my decision based on the opinions of others who have actually used their services. I love the way the homes look on their Facebook page.
In the meantime, I'm scouting my Facebook page for possible roommates to help me afford this new venture ;)
For a long time I didn't allow any kids on my stationary bicycle after my kids broke the first one I had. Decades later I finally bought a new one and NO ONE was allowed to ride it.
But it sits next to my treadmill in my family room now and because everything is open and I can see what goes on in the family room from the kitchen and dining room, I decided to allow my grandkids to use the treadmill as long as they followed the rules. The rules are to walk slowly when babies are around and to hold onto the sides or the handles depending on the child's height.
When winter weather came around, I decided that as long as my grandkids followed a few simple rules (not sitting on the wheels and riding it only if their feet could touch the pedals), they could ride my exercise bike. Great idea, right?
My 2-year-old granddaughter, however, unable to figure out how to ride the bike with her feet in the pedals, devised this new sitting position that allowed her to at least sit on the bike.
Gotta give her credit for her ingenuity.
Have you ever thought about writing for money, but don't want to commit to a blog? Submit HERE. You'll make a penny for everyone who reads your post, another penny for everyone who likes your post, and still another penny when somebody comments on your post. Think those pennies don't add up? Try it!
"I'll be right back," I told Avery, after I sat her down with some paper and a pen. She scribbled on the paper and I made a mad dash up the stairs to grab a diaper and some wipes. In the probably 45 seconds it took me to climb the stairs, grab the diaper and wipes, and run back down the stairs, this is what I found upon my return. So how did I handle the situation? "WOW, look Avery! You drew an "A" (notice her left hand). But next time use the paper I gave you, OK?"
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When I'm at my youngest daughter's home, her kids often play in the back yard with neighborhood kids. Ages range from almost 2 to 9. Yesterday, as I was sitting in the shade, one little 6-year-old boy brought me a broken Humpty Dumpty egg.
"Can you fix it?" he asked me.
"I can try," I told him. "Let me see it."
So he handed me the cracked egg and I attempted to repair it, noticing that it would latch on one side, but the other side was broken.
"I don't think I can fix this side," I said, pointing to it. I noticed he was breathing heavily and I could hear him wheezing. As an asthmatic, I'm sensitive to the sounds of an impending attack. "Do you have asthma?" I asked him.
"No," he responded, "but I think we have wood glue."
(photo credit: Cover of a 1904 adaptation of Humpty Dumpty by William Wallace Denslow.)
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My grandchildren are funny. They get it from their parents, because my kids were funny too. Probably the reason I had kids was because I wanted a steady stream of laughter. But maybe it's just MY sense of humor, so I'll see how you respond. Here is a peek into just a little of what I'm talking about.
Zac, 5, got a nosebleed the other night, his second since we've been in North Carolina. (It might help if he didn't put his fingers in his nose.) Anyway, he came up with a very good reason as to why he keeps getting nosebleeds – he broke his nose when he was 3 and they gave him a new nose.
And then while he was watching Monkey Business while we were in the car on the way to the beach yesterday, he loudly proclaimed his disappointment with the movie because after watching Monkey Business for nearly an hour, he still hadn't seen any monkeys.
I'm having so much fun!
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Camie is in serious trouble. You can tell by the photos how serious her condition is. She has what is called Demodectic Mange. Gloria and her husband, Skip, rescued Camie, also known as Precious Camo, and have been paying for her medical care by themselves.
Camie needs ongoing treatment. She has open wounds all over her body and face and she is in a lot of pain. With your help, Camie can get all of the treatments she needs. Gloria updates Camie's condition on her Facebook page – click HERE to "LIKE" and to read more about Camie.
You can also visit Camie's DONATION PAGE if you can afford to donate (please click the link). Gloria and Skip are providing loving care for Camie. Their medical expenses are steep. Your donations will help her not only survive but thrive. Thank you in advance for your donation.
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Nearly every day since I've been in NC I've been in this pool with these two grandsons.
WOW! It just occurred to me that I did not write one single post for My Heart Blogs to You during the entire month of June, 2013.
Why?
Because I have been devoting whatever writing time I have to a different site where I am actually making money every day!
Wait! Wait! Wait! I can already see you wondering, Where? Where? Where? But before you get your hopes up, let me tell you that when I say I'm making money every day, the money I am making is not a lot. But it could be. I just don't post enough material there. If you had time to write and post there, you could probably make a lot more.
To give you an idea of the kind of money I make for the amount of time I can devote to writing, about the most I ever made on Associated Content, which then became Yahoo! Voices, was a whopping $8 a month. As I said, I don't write very often, so when I discovered I could make $20 a month and eventually more – consistently – writing for a different site posting the same amount of material, I jumped on board. Since I joined on February 24, I've made over $100.
Oh, I can see you laughing already – $20 a month? Are you kidding me? Well, I look at it this way: $20 a month is more than I made before.
The nice thing about this site is that I don't have to write long blogs, though as you can see by even this one, I do tend to write a lot. I just have to post 400 characters! Not 400 words – 400 characters! Do you have any idea how many characters = 400? Let me check from HERE.
From the word HERE above, including the period but not counting the title, this post had 294 words and 1,479 characters. The first four paragraphs, from "WOW!" to "a lot more," had 118 words and 598 characters. Can you write that much? Can you think of that much to say and share? If you can, you can write for the same writing site. Just click the link and join.
BubbleWS is more of a social site than it is a writing site, and you'll meet people from all over the world and get different viewpoints. Read what others have written. Like what others have written. Comment on what others have written. They may reciprocate. And the benefit? For every view you get, for every comment you receive, for every post you make, for every like – and every dislike – you receive, you MAKE MONEY.
I've seen people post comments on Facebook that could have been posted on BubbleWS where those comments could have made them money!
Now you know why I've neglected this site for so long. I've been devoting my time to BubbleWS. Join me there, won't you? Just click the Submit button and start bubbling!
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My daughter and her family moved into a new neighborhood not long ago. Their home is beautiful and they take good care of it, inside and out. Their kids are also very well behaved. In other words, they are a great asset to their community.
When my daughter and her family moved into this new neighborhood, neighbors recognized their asset-ness and warned them about some of the other neighbors, even though the tattletales didn't really know much about my daughter and her family, except for their well-behaved children and the way they kept their home.
I like that sense of community. I remember the day I moved into my neighborhood – the one where I now reside. One of my neighbors rushed over to meet me WHILE I was moving in. I learned from her that the prior residents had raucous parties every night and that the police practically lived in my home before the previous residents were kicked out of the community. Happy to hear that the only parties I would hold would be during the daytime and would include multiple young children, my neighbor went home satisfied.
I'm not sure how the small country community of neighbors reacted to what my granddaughter did the other day in her new neighborhood, though. I can only assume that the idea my granddaughter devised came from a present I bought her brother, my grandson, for his birthday last year (or was it the year before). I had ordered for him a bunch of plain white masks from a school supply company. The masks came with all kinds of markers, crayons, and stickers he could use to decorate the masks. It was a cute project and my grandson invited some of my other grandchildren to decorate them with him, allowing them to keep the masks they created.
The other day, my 8-year-old granddaughter told the neighborhood kids they could buy a mask from her for $.25. Surprisingly they all ran home to ask for quarters to buy her masks. But the masks weren't the masks I'd purchased for her younger brother. They were masks she cut out herself from ordinary paper, complete with hand-cut eye holes.
After the neighborhood kids paid her, she gave them their plain paper masks and told them to color them. One little 6 year old (who just happened to be one of the kids the neighbors warned my daughter about) was appalled at the holy paper he held in his hands. With mouth agape, he glared at my granddaughter and shouted, "What a ripoff! They're not even real!"
I couldn't help but laugh about what I thought the neighbors might think when, after hearing that their children had just bought hand-cut paper masks for a quarter – that they had to color themselves – what else these new neighborhood children would try to sell them.
But I also couldn't help but be inspired by my granddaughter's entrepreneurial spirit. Both of her parents own their own businesses. I have a feeling one day she will too (probably not selling hand cut paper masks though).
Consider this blog your one-stop-shop for Mother's Day gifts.
I've written two articles about Mother's Day gifts for different types of moms. And in this blog, I'm including ideas for Grandma. Just click the links to read the articles already written:
3) BEST Mother's Day Gifts for Grandma (the blog you are now reading)
What is the best gift for Grandma? Not flowers, not candy, and not jewelry – time and memories.
As a grandma, one of my favorite gifts for any occasion is photographs. I would dearly love for all of my kids to get together and present me with a photo album filled with their favorite photos of themselves and their children (and their children). Pictures on my wall are important too, so framed photos are treasures.
But the best gift of all is time spent with my children, my grandchildren, and my great grandchildren. You can't wrap that in a box and mail it, can you? Phone conversations are nice, and Skype is even better than phone calls, but the physical presence of my loved ones around me is the greatest gift of all.
Still feel that you have to actually BUY something? How about a photo mug or a laptop? Say whaaaat? If you insist on buying something, get the whole family together and buy Grandma a laptop. Don't forget to teach her how to use it – and Skype – if she doesn't already know how.
Grandma probably already has everything she needs, but you could treat her to a massage, a manicure, a pedicure, or even a total makeover if you think BUYING her something is necessary. Other than that, keep in touch with her. Share your time. Don't be concerned about what to talk about. Tell her what you're doing and what your kids are doing, and ask her what she is doing. She won't care what you talk about. She'll only care that you cared enough to call.
She wants your presence – not your presents.
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In the past couple of days before the storms hit, the weather had been warm enough to take Avery to the park. But it had also been very windy.
After we played on the trampoline and tried to blow bubbles in the crazy wind, I had to tell Avery it was too windy to blow bubbles, so I walked over to her back step and sat down. Avery joined me.
I pointed out the clouds that were moving quickly and the branches on the trees that bent in the wind. All the while I was helping her wipe her hair away from her eyes. At one point when the wind was blowing so wildly we could barely see each other, Avery reached up and tenderly brushed the hair away from my face.
One little gesture, but it just about melted my heart.
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Every once in a while I look back over my blogs to remind me of the fun and sometimes funny times I've had with my grandchildren. One of those previous blogs reminded me of this situation:
Recently one of my grandchildren (whose name I cannot reveal) took a big ball and rolled it toward Avery (nearly 18 months old) and said, "Avery, let's play Indiana Jones." I couldn't help laughing at his ingenuity.
Hi! I'm not Menopausal Mother (click the link for her blog); I'm Postmenopausal Grandmother. I begged Meno Mom to be a guest blogger, but the woman is so popular, she has a waiting list of people who want to blog for her. So because you might be going through peri-menopause or menopause now, and because Meno Mom might not post my valuable information while you're still going through menopause, I'm posting this blog NOW, because I understand the urgency of valuable information.
Who better to learn about menopause than from a woman who has experienced menopause. I am, quite honestly – and quite humbly, I might add – an expert on menopause. And by expert I mean that I am a pro at being – and acting – menopausal. I also know LOTS of menopausal women.
One time, for example, before she knew she was menopausal (she was actually peri-menopausal), one peri-menopausal mama told management of the area where she lived that one less child would live on Plum Lane if somebody didn't fix her back door NOW!
Everybody, including management, was afraid of the maniacal woman whose meno-moments caused blind fury to erupt from the bottoms of her soles and from the depth of her soul. For the first time ever, they sent home one of their valued employees to save the children from the crazed psycho-mom who lived on Plum Lane.
Menopause does that to women. Take a seemingly gentle human being, rip the blood out of her each and every month for YEARS, thereby depriving her brain from that necessary component – oxygen, while also jumpstarting hormonal outbursts, and then STOP the hormones and watch delirium take over. At least when a man's blood rushes to his pelvic region, he experiences pleasure. For women, the experience is pain, sheer pain, and dementia, and loss of control, and panic, and well, blood loss!
I don't remember making threats to management about removing my child from the block, but because I couldn't close my back door on the hottest of all days, I think the synapses in my brain melted in the heat. I think the heat burned holes in my hormones because, though I couldn't remember making the call, the ranting raving lunatic who lived on Plum Lane turned out to be me. And that valued employee? My sister.
And that poor child? My youngest daughter. From what her one and only brother had told me, she had decided to take the door by the knobs, hang on them, and then swing back and forth during one of the hottest summers on record (1988), pulling my back door away from the frame in the process.
Sadly (for her) I found out years later that she was not the only culprit. Helping her was her brother, one of her sisters, her cousins, and some neighbor kids.
Menopause is funny if you think about it. Peri-menopause is even funnier. It sneaks up on you and plays with your emotions, your mind, and your family. My sister and I were in our 30s when we discussed the possibility of being in peri-menopause. We decided that though we were showing symptoms of the, for lack of a better word, disease, we reasoned that we couldn't possibly be in peri-menopause, because we were too young.
But we weren't – too young, that is.
Fortunately for me (and for you) menopause is just a phase – you know, like the "phase" you went through when you bled month after month after month, year after year after year like someone who'd just been shot through the aorta? Well, that's how mine were anyway.
TMI? Sorry, but my periods were (what's a word that's worse than grotesquely awful – I don't know, but I had cramps that felt – at least for the first two days – EVERY MONTH – as if deranged psychopaths repeatedly clamped my uterus with vice grips over and over and over and...) – anyway, after my fourth child was born, I went for several years with cycles that included a pre-period, an actual period, a post-period, and a mid-period. Rarely did I experience a month without more than a few days when I didn't have some form of a period. So, yes, I DESERVE to be postmenopausal.
But of all the menopauses, post-menopause is the funniest of all. I remember waking up one night completely drenched in sweat. I'd heard that peri-menopause and menopause caused night sweats. I thought I was too young for that, though, because I was in my early 40s on what I affectionately term, "the night of the sweats."
And that was it – one night. I kept waiting for more night sweats to occur, but they didn't. Then, when I turned 48, after not having had a period for several months, I went to the gyne and found out that I was postmenopausal. I remember asking, "That's it? One night of sweating and that's it?" WOW! Menopause is a breeze.
And then (this is the hilarious part about peri-menopause, menopause, and post menopause), without warning (remember I was POST menopausal) the hot flashes began. NOT FAIR, I screamed to nobody! I'm supposed to be done with all that!!!!!!! I'd be sitting somewhere wishing I was naked one minute and then grabbing my soft warm blanket to wrap around me the next.
Yes, funny things happen when you're postmenopausal. You experience a feeling close to how you felt after giving birth (if you've ever given birth). Immediately after having a child, you vow to NEVER have another child – EVER – but something magical happens the next day and you think (erroneously), that giving birth wasn't so bad and you decide to get pregnant again. I had four children and every time I gave birth, I told myself, "REMEMBER THE PAIN – REMEMBER THE PAIN!" But I never did.
Well, let me tell you – the same thing happens with your period. After years of tampons, pads, and cramps, believe me when I tell you that you will FORGET you ever had a period. Forgetting kind of comes with the territory. Apparently blood flows throughout the body and the brain benefits from blood, i.e., having periods. Now, while you are in the throes of menopause, your brain will act as if it has never had a thought in your life. All the things you're supposed to remember get shelved somewhere in that 90% of the brain you don't use and can't access, unless, of course, you go through regression therapy, but that's another blog. The words on the tip of your tongue get crowded out by all the other words on the tip of your tongue, and you can't make a coherent sentence if you try.
It's God's way of being compassionate. He doesn't want you to have to think about such silly things as tampons, when you can't even form words to relate what you're thinking. Imagine walking into a drug store to pick up your monthly supply and not being able to ask for them by name, because the words on the tip of your tongue are tripping over each other as they attempt to speak. Well, now you never have to ask where they're hiding the tampons again. I don't even think about tampons anymore unless I'm watching a commercial about them. That part of my life is O-V-E-R.
Today I don't have to remember to buy sanitary supplies anymore or freak out if one of my daughters used the last product and forgot to tell me. I'm DONE with all that. Ha ha ha ha ha ha! But if I ever have bladder problems, don't expect to find me in the diaper aisle. I'll be buying pads again. Life truly is a cycle.
OK, let's see. I've had my diaper changed, I've had my breakfast, and (as she looks around the house) now what?
I know, I'll take all the videos out from around and under the TV. After I finish that, I'll take all the clothes out of my drawers and throw them around the room. While Grandma is putting the DVDs and wii games back, I'll throw all the folded laundry on the floor.
When she's finished re-folding all the clothes that were in my drawers and all the laundry that was folded on top of the table (silly Grandma, she put it way too close to the edge), I'll go to the pantry and take out all the food. I might even pour out all the cereal. That sounds like so much fun. Except for one thing – the vacuum – it scares me. What to do? What to do? What the heck, I love seeing all the cereal fall out of the box.
OK, what else? Ah, I see that Grandma has a headache, so this might be a good time to pull all the pots and pans out from the cabinets and bash them into each other and onto the floor.
What's happening? Grandma is limping over to me holding a ball. YAY! I love playing ball. OK, two minutes is way too long. I'm bored already. Time to make another mess somewhere.
OK, while Grandma is cleaning that up, I'm going to sneak into my Mom and Dad's room and see what havoc I can wreak in there. Just LOOK at all the supplies they keep under the sink! This could keep me busy for hours.
Oh, no, here comes Grandma again. Will that woman EVER leave me alone?
PROTEST! PROTEST! Grandma's trying to put me down for a nap – in the middle of the day! I am kind of tired though. Nigh Nigh! (yawn) I'll have the whole afternoon and evening to finish my day!
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Oh, gee, what shall I do today? I know. I'll watch TV. I might even make a marathon of watching as many episodes of American Dad, The Cleveland Show, or Family Guy that I can fit into a day. I wonder which one would annoy my grandmother the most.
Probably doesn't matter. Listening to the theme for The Cleveland Show over and over and over and over and over and over…ad nauseum should be enough to send her over the edge.
Then I'll make myself something to eat. I won't pay attention to crumbs or spaghetti sauce that plops all over the stove, the microwave, or the counter. I'm sure somebody will clean that up.
Mom and Grandma should be grateful that I throw stuff in the garbage at all. Of course, I don't notice that the garbage is already overflowing with other garbage, so I'll just throw it in the general direction of the garbage and somebody else will pick up whatever makes it onto the floor.
After I see Grandma twitching from over stimulation because of my endless repetitive TV choices and after I watch her aggravation at having to experience what she refers to as endless torture, I'll play with the new wii she got. You know, to give her a break. After she calms down, I'll have another marathon so she can listen to another theme song over and over and over and over… .
And tomorrow? Another day – another marathon. And when I complete all the series of all my favorite TV shows that Netflix offers, I'll start from the beginning and watch them all over again.
Grandma's note: I was laughing as I wrote this blog, because when I told Jeremy I was going to write it, he laughed too, as I walked him through his day. Oh, I forgot to mention (because I promised him that I would) that he walks around the house on his toes. I think he was probably a ballerina in a previous life. In this life he is already showing great promise as a brilliant (and creative) writer.
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I was born in a hospital that no longer exists. After years of listening to my mother complain that I must be from another planet, I have my suspicions about whether or not that hospital even exists. The hospital was supposedly located in Chicago. At least that's what my birth certificate says.
2. Were you named after someone?
My mother's best friend, Theresa, decided to change her name to Terry, which is what I was called by friends and family until I entered school, at which time my mother told me, "You will now be called by your REAL name, Theresa." I realized then that I had been living a lie. My whole life was a fake. For years I never wanted to be called Terry ever again, but now I kind of like it.
3. If you have children, how many do you have?
Here's a question for which I absolutely know the answer. Four.
4. How many pets do you have?
Sadly allergies prevent me from having any :(
5. Your worst injury?
Hmm, either all the times I fell up the stairs and injured my shins which now consist of one long scar running down both legs, or the three times I fell down the stairs and landed on my back, or the one time I fell down the stairs and broke my toe. Then again it could be the two times I closed my car door on my head while I was still outside the car and I had to get stitches both times.
6. Do you have a special talent?
My creativity causes me to see patterns other people don't see, but I'm not sure if that's a talent or an affliction.
7. What's your favorite thing to bake?
Clay. Not for eating, but for jewelry.
8. Favorite fast food?
I'm not a fan of fast food, but if I had to pick, I would say tacos.
9. Would you bungee jump?
Absolutely, but it would have to be over water, because hitting concrete would cause immediate death, whereas drowning might at least allow for someone to save me.
10. What is the first thing you notice about people?
Body shape and then eyes.
11. When was the last time you cried?
I can't remember, but usually horrific stories of child abuse bring tears to my eyes.
12. Any current worries?
Mostly I'm just concerned about my kids, grandkids, great grandkids, parents, siblings, etc., but I am morbidly concerned about money, money, money, money, money, money…
13. Name 3 drinks that you drink regularly:
Water, water with lemon, water with ice.
14. What's your favorite book?
I have too many favorites, so I'll go back to the first book that impacted me so much, I read it 3 times – Norman Vincent Peale's The Power of Positive Thinking.
15. Would you like to be a pirate?
Huh? Where did this question come from? One of my grandsons calls his privates his pirate, so no, I don't want to be a pirate.
16. Favorite smells?
Lilacs, hydrangeas, freshly bathed babies (oh no! when I was editing this blog for errors, I read freshly baked babies – hope you didn't read that), Opium (the perfume, not the drug), and holiday dinners.
17. Why do you blog?
Blogging appeals to my short term memory and my attention deficit disorder. I can finish one before I forget I'm working on it.
18. What song do you want played at your funeral?
Greensleevesby Jeff Beck! Over and over and over again, because it's short.
19. What is your least favorite thing about yourself?
The disgusting flab that attached itself to my midsection sometime during midlife. I'm sure it came by way of aliens (perhaps they know what happened to the "hospital" I was born in). But I plan to attack it with my new Zumba Core wii game and by Skypercising!
Compassion, empathy, a nonjudgmental attitude, a GREAT sense of humor, creativity, the ability to tolerate me, and a touch of WEIRD!
22. Name something you've done that you never thought you'd do:
Well, I never thought I'd live to see 60, but here I am a year and a half beyond 60.
23: Favorite fun things to do?
Laugh, talk with friends and family, laugh, visit friends and family, laugh,and my new fun thing to do – play with the wii, and laugh!
24. Any pet peeves?
Oh, YES! Read 23 Pet Peeves About RUDE PEOPLE. If you find a bunch of ads covering part of the text, it's because Yahoo! is having a problem, but they promised to fix it.
25. What's the last thing that made you laugh?
Usually things that make me laugh include something to do with my grandchildren. I blog about them a LOT in My Heart Blogs to You. Last night was no exception. Here is my Facebook post: While choosing a mii for our wii, Jeremy, Audrey, and Nolan (3 of my grandchildren) stood in front of the TV leafing through their options – hair, nose, eyes, etc. During Nolan's turn, Nolan got distracted by Jeremy, and I needed to make dinner, so I shouted out, "Nolan, pick your nose." That got everyone's attention, including mine.
And there you have it, the answers to those 25 questions. For my Tag! You're It! I'll contact some of my blogging friends on Facebook! If I don't contact you, but you want to participate, just email me :)
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