All posts by Rhonda

I'm a 57 year old lover of life, family, friends, and creative writing (amongst numerous other activities, people, animals, big ideas, and things). I am a native Minnesotan now living in my happy place of "Minnesconsin". I was a case manager/social worker for many years in Wisconsin and am now ready for my new chapter in life as a writer. I enjoy writing about my day to day (mis)adventures, the people I love and those that inspire me, places I've traveled to, music that makes my world go 'round, politics and current affairs, and general observations and ideas about life and ideas on how it could be improved. My hope is that my blog will be interactive and uplifting.

Grateful State of Mind

The Thanksgiving holiday is upon us! In honor of that, I’d like to take a moment today to talk about gratitude.

I recently found myself reading Brene Brown’s “The Gifts of Imperfection”. In it, she talks quite a bit about gratitude. She found in her research, which largely consisted of one-on-one interviews with people who practice “wholehearted living”, that practicing gratitude was a major component of these peoples’ lives.

This made me remember that many years ago, I bought myself this little book by Sarah Ban Breathnach titled “The Simple Abundance Journal of Gratitude”. It’s a journal to capture what you are grateful for each day for one year. I missed days or even a week or two here and there, but for the most part I wrote down my gratitudes daily. I still have this journal, and I’ve been reading through it.

Reading my entries reminded me of the sweet and simpler times when our kids were young. I recorded such gratitudes as having a nice, long phone conversation with my mother-in-law, having our checkbook balanced correctly, having Mr. NOA come home earlier than expected from work, and the simple joy of watching our oldest chasing a butterfly.

One of many lines from “The Gifts of Imperfection” that ring true to me as I ponder what I’m grateful for right now is “it seems that gratitude without practice may be a little like faith without works-it’s not alive”.

Makes me think I ought to start a new gratitude journal right away.

So, here I go with a few of the things I am truly grateful for these days:

It goes without saying that what I’m the most grateful for is my friends and family and the strong bonds we share.

Yet, there’s lots of simple things I am grateful for too.

Like:

Having an array of sweatshirts, comfy pants, and fuzzy socks to wear when I’m chilly.

Working appliances. I can bake a cake if I want to. I’m able to do my laundry without having to drive to a laundromat, rolls of quarters weighing down my purse.

Having a job that allows me to help my fellow community members in a concrete way.

Dogs I love who do silly things like run in small circles and bounce up and down with happiness. At the moment, we are dog-sitting for our daughter and her fiance (did I tell you they got engaged over the summer? Yet another gratitude).

Our Radar and his friends Dash and Max (aka Radar-ling, Dash-ing Ding-Dong, and Sir Maxwell Butterball)

The music of Brandi Carlile. She is often my go-to when I’m putzing around the house or making supper. The woman can sing anything.

The teachings of Brene Brown. As a former social worker (still one at heart, for sure) and a writer, I appreciate her wisdom so much.

Family movie dates. We caught the movie “Twisters” in the theater together last summer. Next up is going to be “Wicked” next month.

Words. The ones that are strung together in the form of song lyrics. The ones I read before I go to sleep at night. The ones that come out of the mouths of the people I love. The ones I use to express myself in writing.

Laughter-or more specifically, the things that get me laughing. I get one of the local papers delivered weekly, and something in last week’s edition had me and Mr. NOA cracking up. The following question was asked of the kindergartners at the elementary school: How do you cook a turkey? A few of their responses:

From a kiddo named Emmett: I will go in the forest and shoot a turkey. I will find him on a tree. Before I cook the turkey I need to get the meat out by cutting his skin off. Cook the turkey at 40 degrees for 40 hours. The turkey is done by checking the grill. When it’s beeping I take the turkey out. I will eat hot sauce with my turkey. For dessert I will eat Halloween cupcakes.

From a kindergartner named Cheyenne: Go fishing for a turkey. Put it in the oven when its like super hot, or just a little bit hot. Just for 5 minutes. Actually just 2. Put gloves on and grab it out of the oven when it’s done.

And from a tyke named Jasper: You got to get a turkey from the garden shed. Then cook it with the oven for 30 hours. You can have squash and mashed potatoes with your turkey. You eat it with a spoon and a fork. For dessert, I would eat Gushers.

Let’s all be grateful that these kindergartners aren’t in charge of our Thanksgiving dinners, right? We’d end up with our houses burnt down or salmonella poisoning if that were the case!

I hope you, my readers, will take a moment to ponder what you’re grateful for right now. Sharing in the comments would be appreciated too, as always.

Finding Joy in the Tube

When things feel dreary, happy little distractions can help.

Whether the dreariness you feel is a result of the current American political landscape, the now leaf-less trees under a gray November sky, or the dread of the upcoming holidays, unwinding in front of the tube can be a temporary balm for what ails you.

Wouldn’t you agree?

Allow me, a person with a pretty eclectic taste when it comes to at-home viewing options, provide you all with my best recommendations.

These are the t.v. shows and movies that have recently captured my funny bone, taken me on adventures, and/or given me the warm fuzzies. Also known as “feel-good” viewing.

  • Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist. Zoey is a super-smart twenty-something who works as a coder at a Google-type company. Her Dad is dying and she, along with her Mom, brother, and his wife are coping with all the big feelings they have about it. Zoey has an MRI (don’t worry she’s fine), after which she has the ability to deeply feel how others are feeling and thinking via song-and-dance numbers performed only for her by others in her life. There’s so many sweet romantic moments and lots of surprises (who knew Mary Steenburgen and Lauren Graham could sing?). If you are a fan of Rachel Bloom’s “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” you will enjoy this too (and bonus! Greg from that show is on this one!) This show is an absolute delight. You can stream it on Peacock or on NBC.com
  • The Voice. It’s good fun in my book. I appreciate that, unlike American Idol back in the day, it doesn’t include snarky judges and a spate of horrible singers being publicly humiliated. I think it’s especially fun to see the contestants take on a wide variety of songs and add their own flair to them. The camaraderie amongst judges Michael Buble, Gwen Stefani, Reba McIntire, and Snoop Dog is super cheesy, light-hearted fun.
  • Unsellable Houses and HomeTown on HGTV. These are the shows I watch when I can’t make up my mind and I just want to decompress. Unsellable Houses features twins Lindsay and Leslie who live in the Pacific Northwest, who fix up homes with a team of carpenters, artists, and other professionals, so that the sellers can get the most bang for their bucks. It’s amazing to see the transformations. HomeTown is similar to that, though it features the husband and wife team of Erin and Ben, who fix up houses in their hometown of Laurel, Mississippi for buyers. Erin is an artist and I almost always love whatever she comes up with (custom wallpaper and original wall art, oh my!) Ben is a master craftsman and seeing the pieces of furniture he can create in his massive workshop is fascinating.
  • Quiz Lady on Hulu. This is a movie starring Sandra Oh and Awkafina, who play odd-couple sisters who work together (after quite the struggle) to get Awkafina’s character on a game show so she can win money to pay off their mom’s gambling debts. It’s absolutely hilarious and quite heart-warming.

What are your “feel-good” viewing recommendations? Please share in the comments!

Lest I forget, today’s song choice:

Sensational Solo Sightseeing in DC

This blog post has been a work in progress for over a week now. It’s getting published today in spite of the anguish I feel over the results of the Presidential election.

You can go ahead and make fun of me, call me dramatic, whatever. I’m distraught and worried about what the next four years is going to look like for us all, and I believe I have reason to be.

This very well may be the last time I post anything remotely political on this blog. I’m spent; yet determined to carry on with my quest to put some measure of good out there into the world via this blog.

That said, I greatly enjoyed my time in Washington, DC during the last week of October. Those of you who have been following me for a bit may recall that I was planning on traveling as Mr. NOA’s “plus one” for this work trip in our nation’s capital.

Inspired by a book I read as part of my “24 books in 2024” challenge, “Life in Five Senses” by Gretchen Rubin, which I wrote about it in this post, let me tell you all about my experiences sightseeing solo in DC through my own five senses.

SIGHT

I saw the American people and foreign tourists in all their glory. On the Metro platform, the blond yoga lady with her mat tucked under her arm. Little ones in their strollers. The buddhist monks (or Hare Krishnas?) with their orange sarongs on the National Mall. Some were more red. It made me wonder what the significance of the colors orange and red were to them. There has to be some significance, right? I visited the National Gallery, where I had the pleasure of viewing a large installation of French Impressionist art. It is amazing to me how large some of these pieces are and how much they look like actual photographs.

At the International Spy Museum, I got to see a multitude of exhibits featuring various gadgets used by spies over the years. I enjoyed some interactive exhibits there as well. There was an area where you could sit down and do these perception games. That was really interesting. Seeing a man’s face that at first to me looked like a woman sitting down with her head over her knees. The picture morphed several different times (or was that an illusion?) until at the end it was clear that it was a man’s face. It looked to me like Fred Flinstone. The other perception game I did was where I had to read a list of color words (like purple, white, brown, etc) but the colors didn’t match the word for the color. The mind is an interesting thing. It took concentration to get that right.

HEARING

This is more nuanced because the truth is, my hearing has diminished over the years. I did hear a lot of honking. One thing a person ought to know about visiting our nation’s capitol is that it’s cars that have the right of way, not pedestrians. Pedestrians, while there are plenty of them in DC, are essentially 2nd class citizens there. You could have 42 seconds to get from one side of the intersection to the other, and that black sedan turning left is going to be mere inches from you as you stride to the other side. The engineers (or is it operators?) of the Metro trains whose job it is to announce things over the loudspeaker were hard for me to hear. It’s similar to the experience one has at a children’s play where the kids don’t project their voices while simultaneously speaking rapidly. Luckily I didn’t have to rely on the voice on the loudspeaker to know where my next stop was as there’s a digital sign embedded into the wall that notifies the passengers of this important information.

TOUCH

This brings me to “touch”. One thing I did a lot of touching of whilst navigating my way through DC was escalator railings. This was due to my neuroses regarding escalators. They freak me out. My Grandma, the one I was closest with, had the same affliction. Though the difference between us is that I will indeed ride escalators. My Grandma, Pearl, flat out refused. However, elevators were an acceptable alternative to her. I have this macabre image in my head of falling backwards while riding an escalator, clunking my noggin on the metal as my body rapidly descends to the bottom. So, yes, if you see me on an escalator I will be the woman clutching onto the railing for dear life, taking deep soothing breaths while ascending or descending.

SMELL

Cannibas, which is legal there. What’s interesting is that I remember it being a bigger feature of my experience in DC when I was there in 2022. I didn’t smell it almost literally everywhere I went this time. I greatly enjoyed the savory aroma of ethnic dishes that wafted through the air as I walked through a pedestrian mall on my way to the Smithsonian Museum of American History. I resisted the urge (perhaps I shouldn’t have) to taste any of it, however, as I wanted to maximize my time in the museum.

TASTE

On my way back to the Union Station Metro to catch my train back to Silver Spring, I enjoyed my first ever “black and white” shake at the Shake Shack, along with some parmesan truffle fries. That cool creamy deliciousness was such a sweet little reward after having logged over 14,000 steps per my Amazfit watch. A glass of chilled Chardonnay was savored later when I met up with Mr. NOA and some of his work colleagues at a slightly upscale restaurant we enjoy visiting in Silver Spring.

Here’s a little collage of some pics I snapped during my sightseeing tour:

Defecate or Disembark

Or, as my Dad used to say, “shit or get off the pot”.

That’s how I feel sometimes about blogging, among other things.

I’ve always been a person with a thousand ideas in my head, often at the same time. This makes it challenging to make decisions, which leads to anxiety. I suppose that’s why making “to-do” lists on the regular works for me. I have a mission written in black and white, and all I have to do is follow it.

The “to-do” list method doesn’t exactly work for creating blog posts, however. Writing blog posts is far more nuanced than doing a load of laundry and checking it off my list. There’s thought that goes into it. Oftentimes, for better or worse, too much thought (hence the reason if you are a regular follower of this blog, you may notice there’s sometimes long pauses between posts).

But then, sometimes anyway, I get to the point where I’ve had enough of all of this overthinking. Enough of the brain chatter I’ve been marinating in.

Surely I am not alone in this quagmire of indecisiveness.

Perhaps for you it’s a decision about going on that vacation you’ve been pondering for months. Or if you should take that class that piqued your interest. Or something simpler like if you are going to buy that snazzy new coat you saw at your favorite department store. Whatever it is that gets you hemming and hawing ad naseum.

Don’t you just get so tired of it? I do.

Let me give you an example from my personal life. I’ve known for a long time that I don’t have it in me to be apolitical. Until recently, my apolitical-ness has been shared on occasion via this blog and other social media platforms. Earlier this month, I decided to put myself out there and “walk the talk” as they say. Twice I volunteered to canvass in my community for the Democrat party. I got off the “pot” and did my best to embrace the discomfort of knocking on strangers’ doors to advocate voting for Harris/Walz and the Democrats down ballot. It felt good to do so.

I aim to do more of this in other areas of my life, because making a decision and then taking action on that decision, while scary, is empowering. Staying in my head and not actually doing anything to express what’s in there does not move me forward.

I think it’s wise to remember the lyrics from the band Rush’s song “Freewill”: “if you choose to not decide, you still have made a choice”.

Seems pretty fitting in a lot of cases in this life, don’t you think? Not making a choice leads to inertia and stagnancy. It doesn’t move us forward at all. It just holds us back.

What “pot” do you need to unload on or choose to disembark from in your life?

Knock it Off

I wonder who on earth came up with the idea to refer to an American female who exudes privilege and demands to speak to your manager, “Karen”?

If their identity was ever determined, I’d ask them “Why….just why?” Was there a woman named Karen that hurt them?

Think of all the wonderful women named Karen out there. My aunt, who spelled her name “Karyn”, God rest her soul, was a wonderful human being. She gave great hugs, had a boisterous laugh, and loved her family fiercely. It warmed my heart when I received a Christmas card from her, maybe a year before she passed, in which she wrote, “I love you”.

Then there’s Karen, the lady who was the program director for the non-profit I work at prior to my employment there, who always finds time to volunteer to help our clients.

And the wonderful, big-hearted, kind, and faithful Karen I knew and admired so much from the church Mr. NOA and I attended in the early to mid-2000’s.

If one must come up with one single female name for this type of woman, shouldn’t it be Judith?

Amanda Peet as Judith in a favorite comedy of mine, “Saving Silverman”

I’m kidding around here a bit, but bear with me.

Imagine your name is Karen. Or Judith, for that matter. Your name-the one your parents lovingly gave you, has been co-opted. Your name is now synonymous with this image of an uptight, screechy, demanding woman who is shunned from society based on her actions.

That’s got to suck, right?

This is but a minor example of how social media has given us permission to spout off in judgement of others. It’s not healthy for any of us. I am guilty of spouting off and I imagine you are too. It’s human nature. But not the best of human nature.

I think those of us using the name “Karen” in this way ought to knock it off. Surely, if we feel compelled to call out the abhorrent behavior of a female in public, there’s got to be a way to refer to said female beyond using an actual legit name. Maybe call her “Cruella”, or “Maleficent”? Just a thought.

To no one’s surprise, I’m certain, I’m going to sign off with a song performed by a most beloved “Karen”. Her voice is the auditory version of butter, don’t you think?

***Image of Judith courtesy of https://www.blu-ray.com/movies/Saving-Silverman-Blu-ray/29787/***

Reflections on Vinyl

A couple of Christmases ago, Mr. NOA bought me a new turntable. It was something I had wanted for a while. We have a finished basement here in House Number 8. Ever since we moved in, I had visions of utilizing that space for random, music-infused friends and family fun times. A turntable with an eclectic collection of vinyl was sure to bring my vision to life.

Thus far, I have only purchased two vinyl albums: Billy Joel’s 52nd Street (a favorite of mine in the 80’s) and “Mellow Gold” which is one of those compilation albums (3 albums in one!) comprised of pop hits from various artists in the 60’s and 70’s. I picked that one based on the songs listed on the back cover. My favorite songs in this compilation include “Sundown” by Gordon Lightfoot, “Doctor my Eyes” by Jackson Browne, and “She’s Gone” by Hall and Oates. There’s also two songs on this album that I recall singing in my “Madrigals” group back in high school: “Baby, I’m Yours” by Barbara Lewis, and “Cherish” by The Association.

I know, I’m such a music nerd.

Friends, I can count on one hand how many times in the last almost two years that I listened to these albums in my happy-good-times finished basement. And the only other person who was ever present with me any of these times was my 10 year-old grandson, while we were creating art together on the big folding table I have down there.

Now, I have faith that my HGT finished basement will become a veritable music-filled hang-out spot as time marches on; for now, however, I’m on a mission to find used vinyl to up the chances this will happen sooner rather than later.

Here’s what I recently found at a local thrift store. Perhaps it should have come home with me-however it seems more fun to consider what is going on with the album cover.

Clearly, these are “fancy” men. They envision being adored by their fans and they dress impeccably. I’m not sure if the red roses are being tossed to them by their audience or if this is just a show to ensure all are aware that these are chivalrous, romantic cis-het men who most certainly shower their ladies with beautiful bouquets on the regular. And what on earth is with the fish?

I’m sure they had an artistic vision for this cover. I was going to continue this snark-fest and pontificate on the song titles featured on the back of this album, but I got distracted by Google. However, before I could put this little blog post out there into the world, I felt compelled to at least do a quick search on this band.

Turns out, Heaven 17 included two of the guys from the Human League, and it appears this album actually was considered great by fans of 80’s English synth-pop. Human League put out one of my very favorite pop songs in the 80’s, “Fascination” which I wrote about here.

So apparently you can’t judge an album by its cover. Nor if you don’t even listen to it.

Speaking of album covers, I picked up a coffee table book (A Brief History of Album Covers by Jason Draper) while thrifting a couple of years ago. I have leafed through it several times and came to the conclusion that I can’t possibly display it lest my grandson gets to looking at it. The commentary within this little treasure is for mature eyes only.

So, tell me, my fellow vinyl lovers, what do you play on your turntable?

Let me leave you with a slightly more recent favorite song of mine, which I stumbled upon whilst perusing YouTube looking for songs to share from my “Mellow Gold” album. Turns out, Beck came out with an album of the same name. I hope you love the absolute weirdness of this video as much as I do.

Reading and Travel: Past and Soon

I’m at about the halfway mark with my self-imposed challenge for this year of reading 24 books. Not as far as I thought I’d be at this juncture, but I’ll get there.

One of the books I very much enjoyed is “Life in Five Senses” by Gretchen Rubin.

Essentially, Gretchen, a writer in NYC who pens self-reflective non-fiction, has a moment in her eye doctor’s office that gets her thinking about how she takes her eyesight for granted. This gets her pondering about her sense of hearing, touch, taste, and smell. As a result, she decides she’s going to do a deep exploration of her five senses and document her findings along the way.

She decides to start, naturally, with her sense of sight. She proceeds to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art on a daily basis. She often did it solo, which is how I most enjoy visiting museums. I felt a kinship with her along with a little slice of envy. She noticed different things on various pieces of art as time went on. Depending on the time of day she was there, the light would hit differently and change the way she saw them.

The Envy Part: I’ve never lived in NYC, nor have I even visited there. I hope to, someday (visit, that is). As a teenager in the ’80s, I would fantasize about living in a NYC brownstone, working as a journalist for Rolling Stone, and meeting up with friends after work for happy hour in one of the many chic nightclubs there. To have the ability to take myself to the Met whenever I pleased as she did for this book-well, I’m envious.

The Kinship Part: The last time Mr. NOA and I traveled to Washington, D.C. together (me as his “plus one” as this was a work trip) was in December of 2022. I took the Metro into D.C. from Silver Spring, Maryland, and visited some Smithsonian museums. It gave me so much pleasure to walk around and check things out that I was interested in at my leisure. I wrote a blog post about it, which included pictures I snapped on my journey while Mr. NOA was busy with work meetings. Yet I never published it.

In fact, I tried looking for it in my “trash” folder but poof! it’s gone. I guess the trash eventually takes itself all the way out, right?

I have no great reason for not publishing it. Maybe it was due to the vibe of the city feeling off in my mind, as the U.S. was coming out of the Covid-19 era and so many businesses had shuttered. Climate change was evident as there was nary a flake of snow on the sidewalks and the temps were strangely mild. We even saw some roses still blooming. It was just a different experience for me than the last time we had been there (December of 2019). The energy was just so subdued. I always like to stay positive in my blog posts, and I guess I just couldn’t muster an acceptable level of positivity to warrant publishing that particular post.

Here’s one picture I took during that trip.

From the Smithsonian American Art Museum-I love this truism: “We are Made of Stories”

Next month, I will be joining Mr. NOA on another work trip to our nation’s capital. I am hopeful and jazzed about this trip. Hope is in the air, as we appear to be on the cusp of moving forward with our country’s leadership. You might think me naive, but I believe the energy in our nation’s capital will reflect this sense of hope. I’ll spend time between now and then researching online what new exhibits I can explore solo at the Smithsonian and elsewhere in D.C.

Any suggestions you have for me (of either the books to read or sites to see in D.C. variety) in the comments are most appreciated!

As a grateful American as well as a fan of The Chicks, who is fascinated with the history of the intersections of pop culture and American history, I leave you with this outstanding version of The Star-Spangled Banner.

Massages for Self-Care: Yay or Nay?

Personally, I say a big fat “Yay!” when it comes to getting a full body massage.

In fact, I just had one the other day. I won’t have another one for probably three months, however, as my talented and very pregnant massage therapist will be on maternity leave for a while. I’m not planning on finding a substitute for her either, because I believe it’s unlikely I’ll find anyone as good as her and heck, it might be nice to save myself a little bit of money.

I started getting massages on a regular basis probably 12 years ago. Mr. NOA and I would pay for the lovely Anna to give us deep tissue massages every 2 weeks or so. She was so good at her job. She was friendly and easy to talk to as well. I would often spend most of the massage chatting with her about the trials and tribulations of parenting, and my work life.

I had such a good connection with her that I was comfortable enough to ask her a question that had been simmering in my head since she started giving me regular massages. I asked her if clients ever farted while enjoying her massages. She replied that they most certainly did and it didn’t faze her at all. She told a story about a male client who often would fall completely asleep on her table and let ‘er rip. She laughed as she told me this and assured me she would not be offended if I had to release some gas myself during my sessions with her.

When I get massages from my current massage therapist, we typically chat for the first few minutes about the weather or what we’ve been up to since my last massage. After that, I zip my lips and just let my body melt beneath her heavenly (and suprisingly strong) hands.

It took me a few sessions with her for me to feel comfortable not being chatty the whole time. It begs the question for those of you reading this today who also are fans of massage therapy: do you feel compelled to chat with your massage therapist when they’re working on you? Or are you more of a “melter” as I have become?

I remember a client I had, back when I was a social worker, who had MS (the relapsing- remitting kind). He got regular massages. It seemed to help him quite a bit. I always believed that, due to him being anti-social and paranoid, his massage therapist was likely the only other human who laid their hands on him, like ever. He lived alone, had few friends and generally did not seem to like people. This always struck me as heartbreaking. I think we often undervalue the power of human touch.

I’ve been in therapy for a few months now (the mental health variety). Recently, my therapist asked me a question I don’t think any other person has ever asked me: what are you doing for self-care? It caught me off guard, and all I could manage was to say that writing is my primary mode of self-care. Not writing just to post in this blog of mine, but writing for just me. It helps me sort through what I’m thinking and feeling and it often gives me needed perspective.

But that’s not all I do for self-care, obviously. The massages I get are deeply relaxing and stress-reducing. Petting and talking to my good boy Radar is a form of self-care. Spending time in the sunshine is a form of self-care for me. Writing a to-do list and checking things off as I go is self-care for me. It give me a sense of accomplishment; a little boost.

Whether or not you, my readers, enjoy massage therapy as a form of self-care, I’d love to read any comments you’d like to share about what specifically you do that falls under the self-care umbrella.

As always, I am ending this blog post with a song. This one is not only gorgeous but fitting for the relaxing and contemplative vibes I experience when I’m on that massage table.

The Alphabet Game

Over the 4th of July weekend, my daughter, 10 year-old grandson and I went on a road trip together to visit family and friends.

As we were making our way up to the “Northland”, my grandson was immersed in playing games on his tablet in the backseat. After a while, I could hear the voice of one of those young adult “gaming bros” on their YouTube channel going on in their annoyingly enthusiastic manner about whatever game they were playing.

The grandma in me decided I had enough of that business. I suggested, with no actual confidence that this suggestion was going to be embraced by the kid, that we could play the “alphabet game”.

You know this one, right? I can’t imagine it was just my family (actually, me and my Mom, Bonnie) that played this on long car rides.

Anyway. It’s a simple game. All you do is start with the letter “A”. You “spy with your little eye” that one simple letter. You might find it on a sign. Or on the license plate of the vehicle that just passed you. Then, of course, you loudly exclaim “I found an A!” and proceed onto the letter “B” and so on until you get to “Z”. The first person who gets all the way through the alphabet wins.

Thankfully (or perhaps not, as it became a bit of an obsession over the course of the weekend), the kiddo latched onto this suggestion of mine with gusto.

Playing this game with him on this road trip was a huge highlight of this grandma’s summer. The “Alphabet Game” did the following wonderful things: it gave this bright boy a mental challenge. It gave us an opportunity to interact with each other for a sustained period of time. It got him off that obnoxious “gamer boy/man” YouTube channel so my daughter and I didn’t have to suffer through it any longer. It gave me a great memory. My hope as this boy’s grandma is that he was imprinted with a great memory too.

Baby, this kid is a firework indeed.

It’s Sunday and I’m Still Here-Where Are You?

So.

How is YOUR summer going thus far?

Have you been able to enjoy the outdoors in whatever way you prefer?

Have you taken at least a little bit of time to rest and rejuvinate?

My answers to these questions would be thus:

Fantastic. Busy, but I hate that word because it connotes that I’m in some way special, important, “above it all”. Let’s just say that my social calendar is fuller than usual these days. This is not a complaint. Nor is it a “brag”.

Spending time outdoors for me this summer has been hit and miss. Largely because of all the rain we’ve been getting here in Minnesconsin. But today is Sunday and we’ve got a lovely family get-together planned at my in-laws on this sunny, blue-sky, calm wind day so outdoor time with the people I love so much is happening.

I’m going to do something a little weird here and pause my train of thought for a musical interlude. This is a wonderfully written and very 60’s groove-ily performed piece of music, IMHO.

I wouldn’t say that I’ve taken much time to rest and rejuvinate this summer. Again, not a complaint nor a “brag”. But, I would add the word “yet” to my answer. Mr. NOA thankfully has completed a years-long work project as of last week and he’s taken several days off starting this month and through the end of September. For this, I am grateful. It means that personal rest and relaxation are on the horizon for me, as the Mr. will be free to pick up a bit more slack (of the household variety) as well as occupy himself with outdoor projects.

One thing I’ve been focusing more on these days is photography. Though, I feel that calling it “photography” is a bit much. It’s just me using the camera on my cell phone every now and again. For no great reason, I often neglect to take pictures of family and friends (as well as me and Mr. NOA), amidst our gatherings, but I have been enjoying taking pictures of my environment.

Here’s a few:

I wish you all the best vibes on this beautiful Sunday!

Speaking of beautiful vibes, here’s a song that, to me, embodies them like few others do.