Tug of war, winter or spring; cold or warm ; windy or mild; expressway or back roads. This is the week that just past. On Sunday it was darn near 60 degrees Fahrenheit and today – 3 days later it is snowing, blowing, wind chill of zero. Mark actually drove me into work this morning, it took us 1 1/2 hrs to go the non expressway paths. The expressways were actually not plowed yet, there were accidents up the ying-yang.

So we crept in, braved the fools on the highways and I landed safely at work.

I think I had 6 voice mail messages from others who work for me, doing the same. I always tell the people, if it takes a little longer , that is okay, just get in safe. Take their time and appreciate the time to reflect.

I have had jobs in the past where there was no option to be a little late, in the hospital and at the doctors office, you had to be there and then not leave till back up arrived for the next shift.

But in the office environment, it is nice to know that we should really try to get in on time, but it is better to be a little late then get in a wreck.

Life is like that, we need to stop rushing, we need to stop. I love this ice on a branch that I captured. It looks to me like a koala bear watching a hummingbird getting nectar from a flower. What do you see in this photo. It was amazing that I found this, it only took up a small part of a branch that I was walking by in my front yard. In a rush, I would not have spotted this.

In a rush I would have walked right by, and that sun that is glowing on it would have reshaped it and shrank it.

Yes, we need to remember our friends, our priorities, and take pleasure in the small pieces of art work that God plants all around us, like this ice form from last year. Love to all, Mrs Justa

  Thought for the day..                                                                                                                                      

Courage

……………………………………………” Courage is bringing a child into the world, feeding him and clothing him, caring for him  and clothing him, worrying about him, disciplining him, educating him, preparing him to the best of your ability for the life he is going to have to lead, and then letting him live it. ” D.L. Stewart

How true that is. Nothing more nothing less, just a thought for the day.

Love Mrs Justa

Music may not mean a lot to some people, and to others it is a part of them. From Spring through Fall I think we have about 8 sets of wind chimes in the trees. Where we used to live, we had 3 large maples in our front yard, and one silver maple in the back. So there was lots of places to hang the wind chimes. Here we have a row of pine trees that line the back of our property, so we hear the chimes when we really stretch our hearing senses with the windows open, or when we are in the back.

Someday we will have a back deck, and I envision some posts on it where we may be able to hang some of them. They are various sizes, and so they have various sounds, some sound light the tinkle of a bell, others sound like a small pipe organ, and then every chime in between. We used to have these really long ones, that were pretty, but rather pipe organish in the wind. We had a neighbor who kept coming over and putting big branches up the middle of it so it would not chime. what a sad angry person that must have been. Whomever it was, they did not succeed in spreading the anger to me, I would free it to gong in the wind again. Eventually, I moved it to the back tree.

I find a comfort in the sound of wind chimes, it is like God sent angels to sing to me. I know I am weird like that, but it is a nice world to live in. I sometimes feel like I should be what I see as the life of a  monk, and quietly hum to the existence of life.

Mark laughs at me when I get off on the peace , love and flower child type outlook. But I find it soothing. When we used to camp, I would bring a wind chime, it would sing to us with the background sounds of the babbling brook, or the wind as it wisped its way through the fingers of the leaves.

Can ya tell I am already longing for spring. Gee and it is only the 8th day of winter. So peaceful dreams, thoughts of spring breezes and peaceful songs form nature to all, as I have to readjust my mind for the snow tomorrow.

Love, Mrs justa… Cindy

Today I am going to do a blog in memory, and in respect of my grandmother.

Mark and I spent a little time with Brandon tonight, and as we were there, I was reminded of my grandmother. 

This is a photo from March 1954. I am about 6 months old and on her lap. My sister Pam is in the foreground, we are in grandma’s bedroom. My grandmother was 100% blind, yet notice in the right of the photo is a sewing machine. She would sew things on this, it was powered manually, it had a treadle. She would place her feet on the treadle and rock her feet back and forth, the needle would go up and down. She made aprons, napkins, even a quilt out of rags once. Yet she could not see, she did it by touch. And they were perfect !

I can remember sitting in her room and she would listen to the radio, ( it is behind her in this photo). There were stories told on the radio, and we would sit by it, much like people sit at a TV now. Just being by her was all I wanted.

At a very young age I learned that we always had to keep things where they belonged, we could not put a toy out in the path of where she would walk, chairs had to stay in the same place.

Grandma would sit in a chair and hold me on her lap and read to me, just by knowing the title  of a book. I would turn the pages to what she was saying. I did not know she did not have the words correct, it did not matter.

She was a woman of strength, she never gave up, even though she was disabled, she was challenged by it, she proved that it would not get her down. I am awed by this woman, who had adversities for a lot of her life. She became pregnant, in the 1920’s, out of wedlock, and raised a daughter in a world where people scorned her for this. She lost her sight due to an operation that went bad, she never gave up though. I remember vividly being next to her , I was 4 then, and she was sewing. All of the sudden she mumbled that the pin was heavy,she couldn’t pick it up,  and told me to get my mom. I ran and got mom, and the next thing I remember is looking down from our 2nd floor apartment , as an ambulance took her away. I never saw her again, did not understand what happened, mom told me she was sleeping. Only years later did I find out that she had had a stroke. She never gave up, till her body gave up on her.

So tonight, this is for you grandma, you are so special to me.

I hope 55 years from now, when Brandon is triggered by something that brings me to mind, that he will have special memories of me, as I do of her. With love to you, grandma, and to all, Mrs Justa

Moms and dads of the world, we sometimes fall short on the realization that our kids want to be with us. We get too focused on how busy we are.

What we do as our kids are little will last for a life time.

This is a picture of Jeff, it was taken just before Christmas in 1983. He was a year and 9 months old. We lived with his dad( Walt)  then and we had a 3 level home. The lowest level was the basement, and his dad had about 2/3rds of the basement as a work area. He had saws of all kinda, a lathe, a grinder, some tools the planed, it was a fully stocked wood shop fix it area. When we got married, I remember he said the shop was his, the rest was mine, and he really meant that.

He tended to spend a good portion of our lives together in the basement.

Before Jeff was born and after Jeff was a part of our family. Most of the time it was me and Jeff  mainly in the middle area. Jeff in turn would spend countless hours watching his dad from an opening in the floor, which is what this photo was of.

Jeff had a variety of stuffed animals and toys,

even had some plastic ice cube trays in his stash of items he would play with, and he would play for a bit, and then take whatever treasure he had, and go to the space in the floor to watch his dad. I would watch Jeff, and my heart would smile at his patience, and weep for what his dad was missing.

Ya know, I do not think his dad ever took the time

to realize how much his son idolized him. I still do not think he realizes how much his grown son is like him, but there is one huge difference. Jeff takes time with his son, he has his hands in parenting , bath time is Brandon and dad time. Jeff helps Amanda with meal time, helps her with house work. So through the watching dad from afar, I think Jeff learned he wanted his son to feel his arms, not see them through a space in the floor. And he wants his wife to know he loves her and their child. They are both great parents, and Brandon will know their love. 

We need to all take time to hug

our kids, our grand kids,our spouses or significant others. Talk to your loved ones, spend time with them . For life is short, and one moment they are here, the next they may not be. I truly believe that our kids, our loved ones, our life are gifts from God. We are entrusted with and we are asked to cherish these gifts, and not guaranteed for how long we will have with the gifts. Kids grow up too quickly. Some may move away. Life is sometimes shortened by sickness or tragedy. Do not loose a chance to make a memory, to make an impression.

Love to all, Mrs Justa/ Cindy

Every Christmas time I am reminded of times gone by. There is one Christmas that stands out in my mind stronger and more vivid than the others. I was 10 years old. Is was 1963. My dad had died on November 3rd that year, and left my mom with 6 children, the youngest had been born the same time he had died. Our home had a newborn sister, a 2 yr old sister, 2 brothers 5 & 6  and a sister 11 , me and my mom.

She had been a stay at home mom until he passed, and so we were faced with no money to speak of, with the loss of our dad,  and with the loss of our mom as her role changed . She tried to put our lives in order and she worked and was getting ready to start college. We had just moved into Bayberry, a suburb in Liverpool NY, and mom had to try to figure out how the bills and mortgage would get paid, plus keep clothes and food in the house for all of us.

There was no money for gifts or even a Christmas tree, so we all got some aluminum foil and glue and glitter, and made each other a gift, wrapped them up for Christmas morning. Mom told us the importance of Christmas was we had each other.

I remember there was a Christmas tree vendor in the front of Bayberry, and we drove by but knew we could not get a tree. On Christmas Eve, my mom went down and talked to vendor, to see what he had left, he had a crooked ol’ tree ( kinda looked like a poodle) that he was just going to throw away, so he gave it to her. She brought it home, and found some twine and a hook for the ceiling, as we had to tie the top up so it would not fall over. Under the tree we put of wrapped treasures of aluminum for the next morning.

After all the kids had gone to bed, a car came up to our house. It turned out that the man who owned the local grocery store, ( Mr Crosby) had his employees gather all the toys they had had on display above the freezer, produce and dairy area, and they loaded each toy in his car. The church had also loaded up all the clothes left from a rummage sale, and they delivered them to our home at 10:00 on Christmas eve.

We had only lived in Bayberry since June, and these people, who barely knew us, gave to us more then material gifts, they gave us love, compassion, and belief in the magic of Christmas. It has been 45 years since this Christmas past, but it still gives me chills, a tear in my eyes, and the reminder that Christmas is a special time.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. Love Mrs Justa.

Did you ever have the ability to have a vision on how you can improve something in life.  Not to get wrapped up in the now , but see the tomorrow.

I use this photo as an example of a vision that is coming to be. But this does not have to be a room, it can be anything.

This is the spare room in the house that Jeff and Amanda bought that they are redoing the inside. They had a vision, they saw beyond the disrepair that others may have felt they saw.

After smoothing and treating the wall and painting them it looks totally different. It makes it look like a room one would want to live in.

Life is like that. We see things sometimes for what they appear to be on the surface. We do not take the time , nor put in the energy to have a vision of what could be.

There are people we go by who we may feel unsure about, who may be not dressed as we think they should, and we have no vision of who the person can be.

Some of the nicest people I have met in my life, were also those that had to deal with a disadvantage, a disability, or a very difficult time.

Things are not appreciated unless we work for them, I truly believe that. The things in life that are handed to us, seem to be the things that we feel less devotion to. We need to not so quickly make rash decisions, and be able to take the time to see in the future, to get to know that person that you can easily walk right by, to share your beliefs, to listen to others, to respect that each of us are made up differently, and like this room, something that seems unable to find a positive side to, may have more positive then you could ever imagine.

Patience, vision, belief, nonjudgmental , optimistic life paths are the ones that lead to content. May you have a wonderful future, Love, Cindy

I read an interesting analogy in a book that was dealing with not getting upset over the small stuff. In that book it was referring to how different people respond to issues, problems. The analogy was to try to look at a problem or issue as a speed bump in life.

If we approach it fast, it can cause damage to our cars, sometimes the damage is not known until months later, sometimes we find out instantly. It depends too on what we are driving, a car- a truck, a motorcycle or a bike. If we slow down and approach it carefully, it is an annoyance, but there is not long term damage, and we have succeeded with getting over it.

I found that interesting, as I look at how different people I have worked with and known in my life, how they react to problems, and changes and unexpected inconveniences.

My mom used to always say to me “Haste makes waste” and I think that is kinda the same philosophy. I personally have seen that I have tried to rush through things and have made things worse, or broken things, or totally ruined what I was trying to fix. Sewing a project, cooking, working in the hospital, working at where I am now, shopping. If I take my time, I make it through the problem .

So whether it is a problem at work, a new relationship, an old friendship, a relative, a decision for work, a lay off, a financial decision, a want versus a need.

Life is full of speed bumps, and after living in a mobile home park for 17 years, we can attest to how the speed bump affected the different drivers . If you are riding the motorcycle of life and you hit that speed bump, well you want to hang on, take it at an angle and and protect your spine and butt. If you are in a car- you think you made accomplishments in life and are on a strong foundation, well do not take life for granted. It can rip the bottom out of your life quickly, if you are not careful. So as the days of your life come at you, watch for those speed bumps, and think about how you react, how you handle them. Until later, good luck, Cindy

There is a Swedish Proverb that says ” worry often gives something small a big shadow.” How very true that is. I can worry about things that I can not change, and the worry can consume me. I used to worry terribly, now it is not so bad. 

Worrying can become paralyzing to some people.  I worked with a person that worried about going over a bridge. When at all possible she would take miles extra of road way to avoid bridges, and when a bridge was inevitable she would shake in the seat , sickened in terror.

I can recall times in my past, when I had such fear of life itself, where I would worry about someone breaking into the house, I would stare at a door a door knob, swearing it was moving. Or when I was so paranoid of snow I literally sat on the floor of a passenger seat trembling if there was the slightest sign of a snow flake.

Fear and worry can be such , that it keeps people from living or loving. I had to stretch deep inside, and pull myself inside out, to conquer all the worry I had in the late 70s. There are still things that I might worry about, but the snow is not one of them, it is a fact of life, a worry I conquered. I can not say the same for the dark, I still have a fear of the dark.

I can remember hearing talk shows that only dealt with doom and gloom, and I would be consumed with the world coming to an end. Or as a child in my elementary years, worrying that my mom or dad would die.

Now I love shadows, I look for reflections and images in life. I try to find challenges in the things I used to fear. I found within that I was a strong person, and not the frail weak being I thought myself to be.

Finding comfort in the things that once were frightening, finding reason in the things that were once non explainable, looking for the positive in every situation, all this has helped me to be a better me, a better mentor. I hope the shadows do not consume you, as they did me for years of my past. Love, CIndy

Bob Dylan wrote” May God bless you and keep you always, May your wishes all come true, May you always do for others, And let others do for you….May you build a ladder to the stars, and climb on every rung, …May you stay forever young.”  It is a wonderful thought about having the heavens open up to us and being able to climb every rung to get there, to have the doors of heaven open and welcome us in, as we pass from this part of our life to the next.

Some folks believe one way and others believe other ways, to me there is a life after death on earth. When the sun shines its rays through and I can see the beams, as in this photo, I feel the majestic wonder of the next part of life.

I have a memory that comes to me often, it is back when my son was three years old. I was separated from his dad , had been for maybe 6 months, and I was on my way to day care with Jeff. He was sitting in his car seat, and all of the sudden his eyes focused on something in the sky, his head slowly went from a downward position to upward as his eyes were following something. He had a strange look on his face, something I had not noticed before. So I pulled over and asked him what he was looking at, and he said ” I just saw “papa” go up in the clouds.”

Well I took him to day care and was trying all day to figure out what he saw. That night I got a call from my x husband to tell me that that morning “papa”  had died in a hospital in Buffalo. Papa was a father-in law of a friend I had had who lived close to where my husband and I had lived when we were married. He was an old time Italian, and he took us into his watch, he drove me to my ob-gyn appointments when I was pregnant for Jeff, and once Jeff was born he treated Jeff as a grandfather would treat his own grandson. Jeff loved papa, and after Jeff and I had to move out of our home, Papa and Jeff saw each other much less.

Papa was in a hospital in Buffalo, and had cancer. I did not know he was at this death bed though. So I was moved, amazed, and felt that Jeff opened my eyes further to the wonder of life, and of life beyond. How did Jeff know papa died? Unless he really saw something. He was 3, just started to talk in sentences within the past 6 months, I still get chills when I think of this. And every time the sky opens up like this, I am brought back to that day when papa died. Love to you all, Cindy

For some this may be clear as day , to others they may never understand , but here is an outlook that I think others may be able to relate to. I have spent more of my life above the weight of the recommendations for my height and bone structure. And it is so weird to me, that when I look in a mirror, this is all I see.

My mirror could actually be only a few inches long and maybe 8 inches wide.  For that is all I see. I see my eyes. My eyes have always been the same, it matters not what I weigh, or wear, in my eyes I am whatever size I feel like I am.

So I can put a blouse or sweater on, and it looks the way it does in my mind, not in the mirror.

Oh when I have had those successful times when I have been able to get to my “appropriate weight”  I automatically see more in the mirror. But most of my life, it has been this that I see.

I can be perfectly honest with myself and know that pictures do not lie, and I have always had a problem with obesity at various degrees. It is frustrating to me, because I try so hard to be careful of what I consume, and I find that if it is not the perfect volume and balance, then it is hard to lose weight. And I know I am not alone.

I had been having great success 2 different times with weight loss centers, then the places go out of business, and  it is like a kick in the gut. Once again I feel alone with the struggle. It is like I need a person to be accountable to who can look at what I do and guide me to better strategies.

Eyes are the gateway to the soul. They are the direct line to ones heart.  Eyes tell when a person is happy, sad, sick, angry. I read peoples emotions through their eyes, as I read my life through my own.

So when you pass a person on the street, when you see someone in a store, or in a car next to you, and if they are less attractive then you feel you are, or they are heavier then you are, stop and look at their eyes. They do not need to be made aware of their deficiencies you see as you look at them, they live with themselves every day. In the past 55 years of my life I have been oinked at,made fun of,  snorted at, told I am fat, pushed and proded. I always wonder what these people would do if I ever had the guts to say something like ” I can lose the weight nut you’ll always be ugly.”

Treat others as you wish you were treated, and appreciate that each of us are people, with feelings, with a heart, with a mind, with passion, with goals. I am going to sign off now, and hop on the stationary bike for a bit, and maybe look at utilizing this site to discuss any progress I make, and share with others along the way.

Love to all, Mrs justa

Well, I made it through the dreaded colonoscopy. My favorite room in the house yesterday is shown today in honor of it’s support for my situation. It stood my in think and thin, and helped me make it through the 12 hrs of torture.

My recommendation to anyone doing this is DO NOT MIX 1/2 a bottle 255 gr of powdered miralax with light grape gatorade.

Drinking it in 8oz increments every 15 minutes was tough enough, but it did not want to get through my digestive system, and well it came back out the way it went in.

But the long and the short of it is I made it, and the test was nothing!. They put in an IV, and told me they were adding some dilaudid, warned me I was about to get “loopy” and the next thing I knew I was in another room being told I could go to the bathroom and get dressed.

So I am the epitome of large intestine health, and do not have to go through this again until 2013.

Now the very unearthing, very disturbing thing about this all was the feeling of loss when I am being put on a clear liquid diet for a day. In the morning I felt like I would never make it, it was not fair to make a person do a clear liquid diet, I was feeling cheated. This disappointed me and opened my eyes to my attachment to food. I was shocked at how I was internalizing this restriction on consumption. I am not one who pigs out on stuff, but I definitely had some subconscious things going on with the clear liquid diet.

So I am going to really look into this, counsel myself, and go back on a very restricted menu plan to make sure I am balancing out the proteins, veggies, starches, dairy, fruits and fats. AS something is out of whack for me to have almost felt a withdrawal. Yes, I was disappointed in myself, and awakened. Love to all, Cindy

This photo was on goggle images, titled preparation for a colonoscopy. I found it humorous a few weeks ago when Mark had to prepare for his, but today is the day of preparation for me, and well , I am not finding it so funny.

I guess we all have to go through it once we turn the magic age of 50, but my mom had a theory that she did not want to know anything, so she avoided all diagnostic tests whenever possible.

Her thought was if there is something wrong with me, let it take its course.

There is some reason to that thinking, and especially when the test is 24 hrs away. So today I am home, sipping on clear liquid, taking some ducolax and then drinking 64 oz of miraliax and Gatorade. Yep, looking forward to it, I am getting the posting out of the way now so that I am free to do other things later. Maybe I will get a good book read in the time of solitude I plan to be having.

I won’t go back into my rhetorical pondering of what possesses a person to specialize in GI, but I can assure you the thoughts are running through my brain.

So for all you under 50 folks, take heed, my today will be in your tomorrows. And for those who have done this, you know what today is going to be like. Take care to all, Cindy

In this world that is going so fast and furious, we are not really taking time to see all. At least in the world I am exposed to, people are rushing, seeing things and people but not taking time to see them through the eyes of their heart, of their soul.People are doing things out of anger, frustration, desperation.

This world seems to be in a whirlwind, tragedy, turmoil, hustle and bustle. It seems as though there is less stopping and seeing what we can do without and instead reaching for what we want.

The financial crisis is haunting me, what is the right thing to do, save, 401K, retirement, or hide it in a mattress.

The auto makers are screaming bankruptcy, and there is the mother who for whatever reason supposedly murdered her precious child, the talking heads complaining about everything, the governors who are corrupt, the public figures who take advantage of their availability to things others can not get.

I like living in the country, because in the ride from the hustle of the city to the calmness of the country, I can put some of this insanity behind me, leave it in the urban area. I can turn off the news, turn off the TV, and put on some vinyl 33 RPMs , or belt out some karaoke songs in the privacy of my own home.

Where I work, it changes its personality as the evening hours start to come into sight. There is a plaza not far away from work that during the day is bustling, but come 7PM the stores start to close down, it is not safe to walk around in places that are okay at 7 in the morning. But in the country, well we are pretty isolated , sure stuff happens in the country too, but the atmosphere is different for me. I feel safer.

We need to stop all this chaos, we need to slow down, we need to stop wanting things we can not afford, we need to remember to appreciate the people in our lives, the beauty that is there in the world that we pass by in our hurry to no where.

There is a country song that has a lyric that there is not luggage rack on a Hurst. What is important in life is what footprint we leave behind, what people we helped, what legacy we left, not how much we had in our bank accounts, or how much overtime we can get in, or how much square footage our homes are, or what kinds of furniture we own. No it is the stuff we can not buy, no need for storage,  it is what we give of ourselves , that is what is important. Peace to all in the valley and pathways or your life journey this weekend. Love, Cindy

Tuesday I took the day off to help out Jeff on his and Amanda’s new home. Jeff set me free in 3 rooms and I painted throughout the day. It was nice to be able to take time off to help him. I have wanted to do something to help them, and this proved to be something I could do without any problems.

this was the finished product.

A feel good day 🙂

Mark has been helping Jeff and Amanda with their dog each day. Badger remains on the steroids and needs to go out often. So Mark goes over there for 6 hrs a day and is able to rest his leg and get up to let the dog out as needed.

I would like to go over and help some more, but I do not know how that will play out in the net couple of days. But we will see.

It always feels good when we can help someone out, and this was definitely a feel good day.

I am a tad tired tonight, we had the company party for the clients at work. Me and my partner in managing the department were watching the areas to make sure the guests were okay, and that they did not get lost in any restricted areas.

So I am pooped. That too was fun.  They had a horse drawn carriage ride for guests to go around the village we are in. It was a cool night with the caterer offering hot cider or hot chocolate for those venturing out on the quaint ride. A nice week. Love to all, Mrs Justa

Harriet Stowe once wrote ” The bitterest tears shed over graves and for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.” Whoa! Is that not a face slapper? Have you ever had someone die and you never told them something you wanted to? Or have someone die and the last time you spoke it was in anger?

I have, I will again, and it is so true. I am brought back to my parents and my sister. All whom there were words unsaid, thoughts not shared, gestures not done. And it is true, the hurt I have will never go away. There is my dad first. He used to call me princess. I was only 10 at the time, and he was so dear to me.I cherished him, but I do not think he knew that.

I never got a chance to grow up with him, for him to meet my husband, to meet my son, so guide me in lifes paths, oh I have chosen some pathways in my life that I am sure I would not have gone on, had he been alive.

Then my mom. She died 9 years ago. She was overseas on a trip in Germany. She had been gone for a week and was going to be returning home in 2 days. But she never came back. I never got to share some things with her that I wanted to. I always expected her to be there. She was my friend, my critic, my guidance, my inspiration. I am found wondering if she ever knew that?

And my sister, she was 1 1/2 years older then me. She was a troubled soul. A tough life, and a lonely life. I wanted to know her better. She kept things from me as if to protect me from her pain. I feel bad for the way she died, she was alone in her apartment and from what we have found out, she had not been feeling well , and had gone to her sink in her bathroom for a drink of water. When her body was found the water was still running, and she had been dead for 4 days, lying in front of her sink. I am troubled by never telling her all my thoughts, never traveling to Ohio to visit, never really being a good sister.

So Harriet, wherever you are ,I agree, I am sure there are others who have the same tears shed over graves, like you and like I do. My advise is that we need to not put off spending time with people we care about, calling them , talking to them, giving , before it is too late. Love, Mrs Justa

I become more complacent as time passes. Things that would have made me slam a door, or stomp away in frustration, those things do not affect me the same way any longer.I am more mellow, like the fog on the land.

  As a pre teen and a teenager I felt frustrated often. At the age of 10 my dad died suddenly. I had a stay at home mom until that day he died. All of the sudden, our mom had to become the soul bread winner for us. And we, well we learned quickly how to grow up.

Pam and I were the oldest at home. She was 11 and I was 10. The others at home were 6,5,2 and a new born. Mom had to get a formal education and work also. With mom in college, she had to study, so Pam and I were the 2 she depended on to help out around the house, to bath the kids, and read them stories, to iron the clothes and try to clean up the house, to walk the dog and help with homework.I loved the kids, but I wasn’t ready to grow up so quickly.

We were placed in the adult world at a time playing Jacks, jump rope, hide and seek , kick ball, monopoly and rummy were more on the line of what we were accustomed to.

I can remember having people in school talk about things they were doing after school, and I had to get home and get the 2 youngest from the sitters and bring them home. Pam liked the soap operas after school, so I remember feeling slighted, and we had squabbles, we had no talking sessions, and she was sometimes mean to all of us. So I became the one that took charge, that cared for the kids and tried to keep some semblance of order to life. I had times when I would stomp up to my room after mom came home, out of frustration. Mom did not have time to breathe with all her studies, and she never had time to talk to me. I felt alone, sad, and lost.

In middle school, after the kids were tucked in bed, my friend became a evening to midnight disc jockey, ( Jimmy OBrien) he had no curfew, and would put me on hold as he chose another song,I would work on my homework while I was on hold, I had one of those shoulder things stuck on the receiver of the phone so my neck did not get a crick in it,  he listened to my life woes , he would assure me the life is worth every minute of it and he would tell me that my mom was doing the best she could and that she needed me to be there and help her, and never made me feel like I was a pain. He never was more then a disc jockey on the other end of my phone, but I think he kept me sane in an insane situation. I am sure I drove him nuts, calling every night and sitting on the phone for hours, but he never told me to quit calling.He was a person I could talk to about anything. He was my guardian angel , and I do not think he ever knew that.

Those days dragged to me, they went on forever, it seemed like days went on longer then they do now, like it took forever for 5th grade, 6th grade, 7th grade and so on to end. I felt cheated by life .

Now the years zoom by. How does time fly so fast? It flies faster each day, each year. In just 3 weeks 2008 is going to be history.I can not figure out why though. Life is fast now, chaotic, and full of ups and downs. There are still the same number of hours in each day, each year, but they fly by.

Life is full of happy and sad times, back then they lasted longer, now they go so quick I can’t remember if I am happy or sad- and whatever I am, it will change in a second. So in this second of happiness I say good night, Love Mrs Justa.

Today was the first real blustery day of the 2008-2009 season. We have drifts and wind smacking at the house, the plows are out, but when the snow is drifting with each gust , one is bound to drive on some slippery roads.

We ventured out around 12:30 -1 to go over to Jeff and Amanda’s new house. We took it slow and steady and made it there safely.

Mark is limited on what he can do for any great length of time, so we brought a  folding chair for rest breaks for him.

He got the job of painting in the pantry, no climbing or heavy work at all, basically standing still and painting. He did a good job and took breaks as he needed to.

Me, I was given the bathroom, it was a second primer to put on the walls before the final paint goes on. I tried to be careful with not getting primer in places it shouldn’t be, and when Mark was done, he brought his chair down in my area, and then helped roller some of the walls as I did the brush stuff on the edges of the ceiling, floors outlets and windows.

We stayed for about 2 hrs, but left in the daylight, as the snow has been coming down quite hard.

It was fun, an accomplishment towards helping them get into their house, and I am thinking of taking a day off and painting during the day. The is still all the trim, and there are at least 2 more rooms that need to be done.

Jeff and Justin were working on the kitchen floor and counter tops. We wish we could have stayed longer, but were glad we were able to do what we could.

So on this blustery December Sunday night, we are here, safely at home, and have home made pizza cooking in the oven. MMMM smells good ! See ya later, Cindy

“It is a rough road that leads to the height of greatness”

A Latin proverb that makes me think of the state of the world as it is right now, and if this proverb holds truth, the future looks bright! Talk about mounding roughness in the road.

Businesses failing, money loosing value,

stocks plummeting, huge amount of money being given to folks who did bad business and are now crying for help. The cost of living not met by wages, the cost of taxes going higher.

Well according to this proverb,

this is all leading to better days ahead.

In my life I have had many a rough road

. I have had to wipe the slate clean and start over again from scratch more then I care to say. And yes, I guess each time I have picked myself up, brushed off the dirt, licked my wounds and trudged forward, there are things that did get better.

So hang on everyone,

know that there are going to be trials we are all going to go through, and believe in your inner strength. I know you can come through it, I know I will too. My 401K is getting more into it now, in hopes that when the height of greatness hits, it will have a little more in it. We are trying to scrimp and save as much as we can, for we know not what the future will bring.

Let’s walk this road together, and see where we end up. Love always, Mrs Justa

I took this photo because to me this person is one who makes a statement. Obviously for reasons that are disabling, this man has to rely on a scooter to get around. Yet he takes his disability and makes the best of it.

It was a sunny breezy day, mid 70s, and we were on top of the hill looking at the sites and enjoying the lake with Indi.

This man made me appreciate my legs, my ability to walk to the top of the hill. But more then that it also was a statement, an inspiration,  that when life gives us lemons we need to make lemonade. Someone said once that God does not give us challenges we are unable to handle. I have to remind myself of that.

I have run across people in the hospital that are unable to walk, so they just sit, demand people wait on them and whatever muscles they have are lessened in strength. This man sits, I did not see him walk, he may be able to only walk a little distance, but he found a way to get out of his home and enjoy the beauty of the day.

To him I salute him, to me, I am not going to get hung up on what I can not do, but what I can do. Love, Mrs Justa