Hey, Y'all,
Right now, you may be asking, (or maybe not, ha) "What in the heck is finaglin' (fuh-nay-glen)"? Well, now, a finagler is one of these people who can work people around to give them what he wants, without that person realizing that he has been "worked" or finagled. One definition is that a finagler is one who uses trickery to deceive another to cheat him out of something. The question for today is: are you a finagler? Do you really work at it? Are you good at it?
Whether you realize it or not, we begin as children learning to finagle, when we watch others figure out how to get what they want. Another title that we give a finagler is "con artist". I've seen kids con their parents to get something that they want. It is one of those traits that are glorified by kids on sit coms. It irritates the hooey out of me, to see them behave in such a manner, and to know that so many children watching them are influenced.
Unfortunately, it is a part of our human nature to try to con or finagle people when we want something from them, isn't it? We try persuading by words, or bartering, to influence someone else to give us willingly something we want that they possess. Have you ever observed that? Or maybe done that? I am pretty sure that I have.
Well, that is it for today. I never know where I am going for sure with a subject when I begin it. I just kind of let the ideas and the words flow. I was going to write about Fun, but I thought this subject would be more unique. This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for today. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. Welcome to all my new friends as well. Thank you all for stopping by, and I hope you'll be back. Bye for now. More later.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Enough and Extra
Hey, Y'all,
When is the difference between enough and extra? Sometimes, the enough never seems to happen, thus never becoming extra. Does that make sense to you? Growing up with little money, and all of us being born in the 20's and 30's depression era, there often was not enough for any of us to eat well, or to be physically satisfied with it. We were no different than millions of people at that time, and I see the same thing happening in today's economy. What does that do to a person's inner self? (An age-old question, I am sure, and one that I am not goint to try to answer)
One thing that we did have though, and we shared, was caring for others. We had love for each other, and respect, we grew in our appreciation of the kindness of others to us, as well. People were kind (mostly) and we learned the difference between enough and extra. We learned that no matter how little or how much we had of anything, we shared and so we had extra even when we didn't.
I love to do for other people. As I stated in earlier postings, my mom "took in" her sisters and brothers, when they were down on their luck, even when we had little to nothing. She had an aunt that we called "Ainty" (Auntie with a classy pronunciation to those of you who pronounce the "u") who would come to "stay" with us sometimes when she was out of work. Ainty was a nurse who took care of people and she had a little black doctor's bag that she carried with her.
Any of my brothers or sister would do anything they could to help someone who needed it, because we grew up that way, and genuinely cared for others. With us, we considered enough to be extra when we needed to share. There were several times when we had nothing to eat in the house (back in the mid 1930's. I remember one time when I was about three years old, we lived across from a lady who ran a restaurant, and she gave us a bowl of lima beans and pan of cornbread, and oh, that smelled and tasted so good. (I can't stand lima beans to this day, but they were good then).
We learned about sharing when other people shared with us, and knew how wonderful it feels to be provided with food when you are hungry. I love to feed others and have them sit at my table and enjoy good food and fellowship. In my home, there is always enough and extra, just like when I was growing up. I love to share.
Well, that is it for today. This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for today. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. More later. Bye for now.
When is the difference between enough and extra? Sometimes, the enough never seems to happen, thus never becoming extra. Does that make sense to you? Growing up with little money, and all of us being born in the 20's and 30's depression era, there often was not enough for any of us to eat well, or to be physically satisfied with it. We were no different than millions of people at that time, and I see the same thing happening in today's economy. What does that do to a person's inner self? (An age-old question, I am sure, and one that I am not goint to try to answer)
One thing that we did have though, and we shared, was caring for others. We had love for each other, and respect, we grew in our appreciation of the kindness of others to us, as well. People were kind (mostly) and we learned the difference between enough and extra. We learned that no matter how little or how much we had of anything, we shared and so we had extra even when we didn't.
I love to do for other people. As I stated in earlier postings, my mom "took in" her sisters and brothers, when they were down on their luck, even when we had little to nothing. She had an aunt that we called "Ainty" (Auntie with a classy pronunciation to those of you who pronounce the "u") who would come to "stay" with us sometimes when she was out of work. Ainty was a nurse who took care of people and she had a little black doctor's bag that she carried with her.
Any of my brothers or sister would do anything they could to help someone who needed it, because we grew up that way, and genuinely cared for others. With us, we considered enough to be extra when we needed to share. There were several times when we had nothing to eat in the house (back in the mid 1930's. I remember one time when I was about three years old, we lived across from a lady who ran a restaurant, and she gave us a bowl of lima beans and pan of cornbread, and oh, that smelled and tasted so good. (I can't stand lima beans to this day, but they were good then).
We learned about sharing when other people shared with us, and knew how wonderful it feels to be provided with food when you are hungry. I love to feed others and have them sit at my table and enjoy good food and fellowship. In my home, there is always enough and extra, just like when I was growing up. I love to share.
Well, that is it for today. This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for today. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. More later. Bye for now.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Doctor, Anyone?
Hey, Y'all,
Well, now, here is a question for you....do you realize that we are pronounced living by a doctor when we are born, and must be legally pronounced dead by a doctor for the death certificate to be valid? When we, as children, show signs of serious illness, Mama takes us to see...the doctor. As we grow older and begin to care for ourselves, the doctor continues in his (uh, her, sorry, didn't mean to be sexist here) importance to our well-being. Wonder if that is why they command such salaries? Must be. (But that is beside the point and not really intended in my soliloquy.)
I was going to tell some doctor stories that I know, and I will just a few, but please know that I have a lot more of them than I can relate today (trying to keep it short enough to be reasonably read in our present Challenge).
This one, I will tell, though. Each of my four brothers and one sister and myself were born at home. Back in the 1920's and 1930's when we showed our little faces for the first time in this world, very few women went to the hospital to bear their children. That is, those who were struggling just to make a living, as my parents were, did not. Each of my brothers and my sister, and I, were good-sized babies, the smallest being around 9 pounds and each successive one being larger. The doctor, upon delivering me (the fifth one), pronounced me as being 14 pounds, and then nearly three years later, my youngest brother, John, as weighing 17 pounds. He had delivered numerous babies and knew weights the way a butcher who works in a meat market would.
Now, when my brother, John, was born, my mother was torn internally, and the doctor pronounced that there was no need to do any stitching because she was going to die, anyway. Well, my mother was made of stronger stuff than the doctor knew, and lived another 36 years and worked in a hosiery mill, standing up, operating three machines for 26 of them.
One of my favorite television shows is "House" which, as most of you know, is about an eccentric doctor who is a genius at determining the cause of illnesses, but is a disaster when it comes to personal relationships. There are all kinds of doctors, and like most people I have had some really great experiences with them, as well as some horrible ones as well. More I will save for another day. Thanks for listening.
This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for today. Please feel free to share any experiences you might have had. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. Bye for now. More later.
Well, now, here is a question for you....do you realize that we are pronounced living by a doctor when we are born, and must be legally pronounced dead by a doctor for the death certificate to be valid? When we, as children, show signs of serious illness, Mama takes us to see...the doctor. As we grow older and begin to care for ourselves, the doctor continues in his (uh, her, sorry, didn't mean to be sexist here) importance to our well-being. Wonder if that is why they command such salaries? Must be. (But that is beside the point and not really intended in my soliloquy.)
I was going to tell some doctor stories that I know, and I will just a few, but please know that I have a lot more of them than I can relate today (trying to keep it short enough to be reasonably read in our present Challenge).
This one, I will tell, though. Each of my four brothers and one sister and myself were born at home. Back in the 1920's and 1930's when we showed our little faces for the first time in this world, very few women went to the hospital to bear their children. That is, those who were struggling just to make a living, as my parents were, did not. Each of my brothers and my sister, and I, were good-sized babies, the smallest being around 9 pounds and each successive one being larger. The doctor, upon delivering me (the fifth one), pronounced me as being 14 pounds, and then nearly three years later, my youngest brother, John, as weighing 17 pounds. He had delivered numerous babies and knew weights the way a butcher who works in a meat market would.
Now, when my brother, John, was born, my mother was torn internally, and the doctor pronounced that there was no need to do any stitching because she was going to die, anyway. Well, my mother was made of stronger stuff than the doctor knew, and lived another 36 years and worked in a hosiery mill, standing up, operating three machines for 26 of them.
One of my favorite television shows is "House" which, as most of you know, is about an eccentric doctor who is a genius at determining the cause of illnesses, but is a disaster when it comes to personal relationships. There are all kinds of doctors, and like most people I have had some really great experiences with them, as well as some horrible ones as well. More I will save for another day. Thanks for listening.
This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for today. Please feel free to share any experiences you might have had. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. Bye for now. More later.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Cacophonous Cloudbursts and Collections
Hey, Y'all,
Well, I already had my title for today's posting in my mind, and then when I was awakened in the early hours by thunder, lightning crackling, and the sound of hail hitting the windows by my bed, I just knew I had to use the words cacophonous cloudburst in my title. Ha!
Anyway, now that I have used them, I'll have to say that I did go back to sleep and dreamed that the house I was in in my dreams had a leaking roof, and my children were little, and we were looking out at the very small apple trees and they were loaded with huge, enormous, gigantic apples (would you believe big?) ha. Must be Farmville was invading my dreams. A neighbor came in and was looking around at the leaks in the ceiling, and said, "Yep, you need to get that fixed. Maybe I can do it for you."
Now, on the the collections. Are you a collector of stuff? I'll bet most of you are. I know we, as bloggers, are collectors of ideas and words, but we share them with others (we can't help ourselves). I am a lover of words and their sounds and how they trippingly roll from the tongue.
Here are some pictures of some of my collectibles in my house. I love Teapots, and what is more, I quite often enjoy a good cup of hot tea, and my daughter, Carol, makes wonderful iced tea. (I can't make iced tea worth a hoot!)
As you can see, I do like the little stuff (it doesn't take up a lot of space, and some of the things, like the cars and the gnomes, my husband enjoyed the collecting of. There is a vase in the center of the sixth picture down, that belonged to my mom and she purchased it for five cents in the year 1914. It is almost a hundred years old. I treasure it because it is one of the few tangible items that she left behind. My husband called collectibles "dust catchers" and I guess that is true, huh? The wooden knick-knack holder in the last picture, my husband had made for me on our 20th anniversary by a friend of ours who was a carpenter.
Well, that is it for today. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for today. Bye for now. More later.
Well, I already had my title for today's posting in my mind, and then when I was awakened in the early hours by thunder, lightning crackling, and the sound of hail hitting the windows by my bed, I just knew I had to use the words cacophonous cloudburst in my title. Ha!
Anyway, now that I have used them, I'll have to say that I did go back to sleep and dreamed that the house I was in in my dreams had a leaking roof, and my children were little, and we were looking out at the very small apple trees and they were loaded with huge, enormous, gigantic apples (would you believe big?) ha. Must be Farmville was invading my dreams. A neighbor came in and was looking around at the leaks in the ceiling, and said, "Yep, you need to get that fixed. Maybe I can do it for you."
Now, on the the collections. Are you a collector of stuff? I'll bet most of you are. I know we, as bloggers, are collectors of ideas and words, but we share them with others (we can't help ourselves). I am a lover of words and their sounds and how they trippingly roll from the tongue.
Here are some pictures of some of my collectibles in my house. I love Teapots, and what is more, I quite often enjoy a good cup of hot tea, and my daughter, Carol, makes wonderful iced tea. (I can't make iced tea worth a hoot!)
Well, that is it for today. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for today. Bye for now. More later.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
A Quiet Sunday Afternoon
Hey, Y'all,
Well, here it is on Sunday afternoon, and I'm kind of resting up a little, watching some Andy Griffith on TV Land, and scoping out some of my fellow bloggers, and thinking about tomorrow's "C" edition for my own post. For the past seven or so months, I have been attending the church where Carol and Daryl are members and enjoying it, but had noticed the Baptist Church that is just down the street from where I live. Being a life-long Baptist, I decided to try it, and went this morning.
I realized that I felt at home immediately when I entered the church and decided I would go back this evening and see how the evening service goes. The church is a small one, by modern standards, and reminded me of my home church back in New Market, Tennessee. I attended the Sunday School class following the early service, and enjoyed meeting the senior ladies in that class. They made me feel quite welcome as well.
I have played some Farmville this afternoon, and also I went over to Carol and Daryl's house for lunch, and talked with them about the church and how much I enjoyed it. One nice thing about the church is that most of the people there live in the local area, and will be easy to socialize with during the day.
A nap right now would be good, I think, and I have about an hour and a half that I could nap, and I may just do that. I look forward to visiting a lot of other blogs during the next weeks.
This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for now. Much love to each of you, my friends. More later. Bye for now.
Well, here it is on Sunday afternoon, and I'm kind of resting up a little, watching some Andy Griffith on TV Land, and scoping out some of my fellow bloggers, and thinking about tomorrow's "C" edition for my own post. For the past seven or so months, I have been attending the church where Carol and Daryl are members and enjoying it, but had noticed the Baptist Church that is just down the street from where I live. Being a life-long Baptist, I decided to try it, and went this morning.
I realized that I felt at home immediately when I entered the church and decided I would go back this evening and see how the evening service goes. The church is a small one, by modern standards, and reminded me of my home church back in New Market, Tennessee. I attended the Sunday School class following the early service, and enjoyed meeting the senior ladies in that class. They made me feel quite welcome as well.
I have played some Farmville this afternoon, and also I went over to Carol and Daryl's house for lunch, and talked with them about the church and how much I enjoyed it. One nice thing about the church is that most of the people there live in the local area, and will be easy to socialize with during the day.
A nap right now would be good, I think, and I have about an hour and a half that I could nap, and I may just do that. I look forward to visiting a lot of other blogs during the next weeks.
This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for now. Much love to each of you, my friends. More later. Bye for now.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Boogers and Books
Hey, Y'all,
(Tawkin' in East Tennessee-speak today) Didja ever think about Boogers? Ewwwww, you say? Well, now they is all kinds of boogers. The first time I ever heard of boogers was when my Ant Daisy was stayin' with us when we uz livin' in Possum Valley. They was two kinds that she mentioned regular to us. When we would be pickin' the boogers out of our nose, she would ask, "Are ye cleanin' the halls? Are ye 'spectin' comp'ney?" Our Ant Daisy had all kinds of sayin's, don't che know? And then there was the other kind uh boogers that make noises durin' the night er day, even. We had a loft in the little cabin that we lived in down there in Possum Valley, where my bruthers slept, and our Ant Daisy would say right before the boys went up to go tuh bed, "I hear old Raw Hide n' Bloody Bones (the Devil) up there and he's waitin' for ye boys." She loved to skeer us. She thought that was really funny. She was my mom's sister, and quite often, she'd come and "stay" with us, when she was down on her luck (out a work, havin' problems with her husband at the time, etc.) I don't know at the number a times we took her in. She certainly brought her own kind of entertainment with her. We would be outside n' she'd look up and see a buzzard flyin' overhead and say, "Looky thare, they're a comin' after ya." Now, about the boogers, my mom could tell us some awful skeery stories about them, too, and about ghosts n' all kinds of spooky stuff. We grew up on them stories, cause we delighted in bein' skeered. We'd sit around the fireplace at night with the wind a whistlin' outside and mama would tell us about a house out in Texas whur at a certin' time ever ev'nin' the windus' 'ud shut down, and the doors 'ud shut, and the plates 'ud slide out frum the cab'net onto the table, and the chandelier would play music. We listen'd and wonder'd at how that cud be.
All the stories we herd growin' up must be why we all loved ta read. One of the first poems I remember hearin' started off with "There is no Frigate Like a Book" . I wondered what in thuh world is a frigate? Then I found out it was a ship that moves out on the high seas. The poem is by Emily Dickinson, who wuz fasanated by thuh fact thet readin' kin take us far away in our imaginashins like nuthin' else can. Hurray fer books and fer boogers too.
My mama's mama was half Cherokee 'n I'm sure she grew up listenin' to stories told to her, and musta pass'd 'em on to Mama. In fact, I know she heard stories growing up, because l've herd some uv 'em.
Do you know any stories about boogers? I'll betcha do. If you have any trubble understandin' any a these words taday, jist read 'em outloud and they'll cum to ya.
This is Blabbin' Grammy signin' off fer taday. Much luv ta each uv ya, and I'll be seein' ya agin'. Bye fer now. More later.
Friday, April 1, 2011
April ->>>August and After
Hey, Y'all,
Well, I guess this is going to be somewhat of a saga, so...here goes. This is kind of my last year in recap, but kind of all at one time instead of in bits and pieces. This story is not told to gain your sympathy, but to relate how very gracious our God is in supplying our needs as we have them.
Last year at the end of April, I was planning to attend our grandson's wedding here in Texas. Matthew and his dear Amy were getting married on the first weekend in May. I couldn't leave my husband, W.B. (Dubby) by himself because he had dementia, and was not able to care for himself, and so I left him in the care of an assisted living facility that he and I had both been in for a month the year before when I was recovering from surgery. We lived in East Tennessee at the time. So, on the first of May, I flew to Texas and left Dubby in the facility. While I was here in Texas, he fell and broke a hip the day before the wedding, which he then had surgery to repair, and I headed back home the day following the wedding. His nieces and our good friend (and surrogate daughter, Allie), looked after him in the hospital until I could get back home. God supplied that need as it came.
From the hospital then, it was into the nursing home for him (and me, kind of, because when a family member is in the nursing home the rest of the family is there, too, many hours of the day). All through the month of May and June, there were many things to be done, and I had the support of so many people - friends, family, and some that were strangers but soon became friends. I also had the grace of God to bear me up. During that time, there were many decisions to be made...what to do if Dubby didn't make it home but had to remain in the nursing home indefinitely (till death) and how could we afford it? The truth is, we could not have. God supplied the ways for us to go.
I decided to go ahead and apply for Medicaid, because we have never been what could be considered wealthy by the world's standards. After talking it over with Carol, we decided the best thing I could do was to buy a house out here in Texas. While I was rushing around, getting documents, and caring for Dubby every day at the nursing home, our daughter, Teresa, who lives in Alabama, and I, searched for the right house online while our daughter, Carol, and her husband, Daryl, out here in Texas searched in person, actually seeing the houses. They found one that we had liked the looks of to be quite suitable, in a good neighborhood and wheelchair accessible in case Dubby got to leave the nursing home. God supplied that need.
In the meantime, my Dubby was not getting any stronger, but weaker, and among other problems, had to be permanently catheterized because of kidney failure from his diabetes. Carol and Daryl arranged for him to be accepted at a local nursing home here in Texas, and our niece, Donna, who lives in East Tennessee, came and took us from the nursing home in TN to the airport in Knoxville, and saw us off on our way to Texas. We arrived here and Carol picked us up at the airport and took us the a wonderful nursing home here in Texas that was only about five minutes from the house I bought here with Carol's help. This was on July 7th, and twenty days later, he was gone to be with our Lord. I had just been home to Tennessee to pack up the house and my neighbors, the Benjamins, literally packed it up for me with my directions. I had driven back with my good friend, Ina, and God supplied that need so that I would not have to return to Texas driving by myself. My Dubby had told the nurse that night that he was going home and he went to be with our God the very next morning.
The whole family here, and our grandson in Illinois with his family, came back to Tennessee to honor him and see him laid to rest. When I say the whole family here and in Illinois, I mean sixteen people plus me. He would have been so pleased. The funeral services were beautiful and I had the support and love of so many friends there that we had known in our lifetime there. God was right there with us.
While we were in Tennessee, I discovered that our daughter, Teresa, had breast cancer and would soon begin treatment for that. God has been so good to us in the past few months, bringing her and her husband, Tom, through the time of recovery in her illness. (God is good all the time)
The months since Dubby's passing have been a time of mourning for me, and still, quite often, I feel the sadness creep over me, but I know that Dubby is in God's hands. I have found so many new friends here, it is wonderful. The people at Carol and Daryl's church just opened their arms to me and took me in and comforted me in my time of sorrow. I have been attending a Bible study in James and realizing anew how very much God is there for all Christians who have trials and sorrows. It has been a very fulfilling study for us.
I have been able to slowly adjust to being alone, and my family here has been wonderful. Teresa is recovering and has been able to keep working from home...God is good all the time...and I know their faith has been strengthened by the trials they have been through. She is almost finished with her radiation treatments. We get to see each other on Skype and talk almost every day.
Well, that is a good portion of my story. I get to see our grandchildren often because most of them live here in the area, and it is wonderful. I keep in touch with family back in Tennessee and am planning to visit for a week in May. I keep busy here, and have become a Farmville player, and have met a lot of wonderful people that way. I feel like I know them personally. I am a "people person". I look forward to getting to know many of you, my blogging friends.
This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for now. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. Bye for now. More later.
Well, I guess this is going to be somewhat of a saga, so...here goes. This is kind of my last year in recap, but kind of all at one time instead of in bits and pieces. This story is not told to gain your sympathy, but to relate how very gracious our God is in supplying our needs as we have them.
Last year at the end of April, I was planning to attend our grandson's wedding here in Texas. Matthew and his dear Amy were getting married on the first weekend in May. I couldn't leave my husband, W.B. (Dubby) by himself because he had dementia, and was not able to care for himself, and so I left him in the care of an assisted living facility that he and I had both been in for a month the year before when I was recovering from surgery. We lived in East Tennessee at the time. So, on the first of May, I flew to Texas and left Dubby in the facility. While I was here in Texas, he fell and broke a hip the day before the wedding, which he then had surgery to repair, and I headed back home the day following the wedding. His nieces and our good friend (and surrogate daughter, Allie), looked after him in the hospital until I could get back home. God supplied that need as it came.
From the hospital then, it was into the nursing home for him (and me, kind of, because when a family member is in the nursing home the rest of the family is there, too, many hours of the day). All through the month of May and June, there were many things to be done, and I had the support of so many people - friends, family, and some that were strangers but soon became friends. I also had the grace of God to bear me up. During that time, there were many decisions to be made...what to do if Dubby didn't make it home but had to remain in the nursing home indefinitely (till death) and how could we afford it? The truth is, we could not have. God supplied the ways for us to go.
I decided to go ahead and apply for Medicaid, because we have never been what could be considered wealthy by the world's standards. After talking it over with Carol, we decided the best thing I could do was to buy a house out here in Texas. While I was rushing around, getting documents, and caring for Dubby every day at the nursing home, our daughter, Teresa, who lives in Alabama, and I, searched for the right house online while our daughter, Carol, and her husband, Daryl, out here in Texas searched in person, actually seeing the houses. They found one that we had liked the looks of to be quite suitable, in a good neighborhood and wheelchair accessible in case Dubby got to leave the nursing home. God supplied that need.
In the meantime, my Dubby was not getting any stronger, but weaker, and among other problems, had to be permanently catheterized because of kidney failure from his diabetes. Carol and Daryl arranged for him to be accepted at a local nursing home here in Texas, and our niece, Donna, who lives in East Tennessee, came and took us from the nursing home in TN to the airport in Knoxville, and saw us off on our way to Texas. We arrived here and Carol picked us up at the airport and took us the a wonderful nursing home here in Texas that was only about five minutes from the house I bought here with Carol's help. This was on July 7th, and twenty days later, he was gone to be with our Lord. I had just been home to Tennessee to pack up the house and my neighbors, the Benjamins, literally packed it up for me with my directions. I had driven back with my good friend, Ina, and God supplied that need so that I would not have to return to Texas driving by myself. My Dubby had told the nurse that night that he was going home and he went to be with our God the very next morning.
The whole family here, and our grandson in Illinois with his family, came back to Tennessee to honor him and see him laid to rest. When I say the whole family here and in Illinois, I mean sixteen people plus me. He would have been so pleased. The funeral services were beautiful and I had the support and love of so many friends there that we had known in our lifetime there. God was right there with us.
While we were in Tennessee, I discovered that our daughter, Teresa, had breast cancer and would soon begin treatment for that. God has been so good to us in the past few months, bringing her and her husband, Tom, through the time of recovery in her illness. (God is good all the time)
The months since Dubby's passing have been a time of mourning for me, and still, quite often, I feel the sadness creep over me, but I know that Dubby is in God's hands. I have found so many new friends here, it is wonderful. The people at Carol and Daryl's church just opened their arms to me and took me in and comforted me in my time of sorrow. I have been attending a Bible study in James and realizing anew how very much God is there for all Christians who have trials and sorrows. It has been a very fulfilling study for us.
I have been able to slowly adjust to being alone, and my family here has been wonderful. Teresa is recovering and has been able to keep working from home...God is good all the time...and I know their faith has been strengthened by the trials they have been through. She is almost finished with her radiation treatments. We get to see each other on Skype and talk almost every day.
Well, that is a good portion of my story. I get to see our grandchildren often because most of them live here in the area, and it is wonderful. I keep in touch with family back in Tennessee and am planning to visit for a week in May. I keep busy here, and have become a Farmville player, and have met a lot of wonderful people that way. I feel like I know them personally. I am a "people person". I look forward to getting to know many of you, my blogging friends.
This is Blabbin' Grammy signing off for now. Much love to each of you, my friends and family. Bye for now. More later.
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