keen boot saved my life, written by a chipmunk

Posted on June 9, 2022 by Shanda

There is a very persistent rain today and so a perfect day to tell a story.

I am a small red chipmunk. They tell me the hunters love chipmunk meat and there are five such hunters living in the yellow house on a nearby hill. And though they are fed the best cat food money can buy, they still prefer freshly caught and killed chipmunk. This is what I was told and told again by the one and only elder chipmunk in my family (the rest were eaten in their prime). But most don’t believe The Bad Thing will happen to them, until it does, and thus it was for me. I would never become a meal. The day I almost became one, I was dancing.

I am a lover of the arts; literature, drawing, music, light, and expression. And I was dancing that day, when suddenly I was seized. My audience (mostly ants, flies, bugs, and butterflies), gasped. I was suspended in air, except for a tightness of teeth in my back, and away I went.

Inside the open window the hunter flew, and landed with a jolt on a terrible floor. Instead of earth, and grass, and good smells, it was barren and perfectly flat with no place to hide.

The hunter, a skinny striped cat named Bones, put me down briefly to absentmindedly lick a tiny sliver out of his paw and off I went, as fast as I as could run, looking for a small tunnel or hole to hide in. Tunnels and holes are all over the place outside, but not in this terrible place, the only hole I saw led to nowhere.

It was a boot. I felt the hot breath of Bones as I pressed as hard as I could into the very end of it, the toe, and I turned my face away, curled into a hard oval, and clamped my tail around myself like a vise. I stiffened and held onto the boot with every fiber of my being.

Still the cat tried. An epic battle began between Bones and Boot. If it had been any other boot but Keens, I wouldn’t be writing this story right now. Keen boots are performance quality, built to last with the most durable of materials. They are strong and keep the foot safe and warm and dry, stable and secure, and I might add, they kept me safe as well. No cat was going to get me out of this life-saving boot.

I felt a different touch, a touch of inquisitive gentleness, of soft slender fingers, and then I heard a scream, many screams….. or perhaps one long scream. My heart stopped and then calmed. My Savior had appeared and what I thought was a scream was really the trumpet sound, announcing her arrival. I felt my safe boot lift up in the air, and I was being carried, yes danced, outside. The best place to be.

She, along with two of her children, left the cat in the house, and then kindly tapped the boot on the driveway so I could understand it was time to go. It took several attempts, but then I was free. I ran across the driveway into the shrubbery.

It took several days for my paws to stop shaking and hold this pen with which I write.

I avoid the yellow house and all of its property now. I learned my lesson. As usual, the words of the elders are ignored in preference for personal experience. How I wish it weren’t so.

But I never stop thanking God for that boot, and for that woman, both of which saved my little life that day. They will be the subject and inspiration for my beloved art until I die, preferably of natural causes.

my exodus from the boot

I am going to make everything around me beautiful – that will be my life.

Elsie de Wolfe

little stories

Posted on October 5, 2018 by Shanda

This morning I said, “Seth, I’m putting your snack in your backpack,” and he turned and looked at me with the “oh-no- mom’s- going- to- see-what-I-have-hiding- in-there” expression on his face. So I did a search and found two strange “squishies” that he had pilfered from his friends. “I’m just borrowing them.” he quickly explained. Squishies are all the rage with Seth and his friends and he doesn’t have one but I told him (like I tell all the children) DON’T BORROW YOUR FRIENDS TOYS OR LET THEM “GIVE” YOU THEIRS!!!!

*****

The other day we were getting ready for football practice and I said, “Seth, don’t forget to put on your cup.” “Oh, I don’t wear a cup to football anymore,” he said. “You’ll get hit there sooner or later and then you will,” I replied, airily. He was insulted. “MOM. I have GOOD REFLUXES.”

*****

Yesterday we were in the car headed to football practice. “Mom, why does that truck have chuffy cheeks?” Sarah wanted to know.

*****

“Oh, this is so good, try this, E,” I said, handing Ethan my cup of iced matcha green tea latte to sip.
“It tastes like condensed grass.” he said.

*****

We returned home from an outing an hour ago and I got the mail before coming into the house. In a stack of junk and catalogues, I found a letter from the local meat market. My name and address were written out by hand on the envelope. “Why are they sending me personal mail?” I questioned out loud. I opened it and read, “If you shopped here in August, check your bank statement, we believe we owe you money.” I was completely flummoxed. I handed the note to Rich, and he in turn checked our online bank statement and found that they charged our credit card 461 dollars. “Did you spend that much?” “No way, not on meat.” So, he called and spoke to the same lady whose name was signed to the letter and she excitedly told him how she had worked behind the scenes to find me and make the discrepancy correct. It turned out that the true meat total was 46 and she charged me 461…… and I myself stood there in the store, signed my name, and let it happen. “I don’t know how I made such a mistake,” I apologized to Rich. “I wonder if I had kids with me or waiting in the car.” “You were frazzled,” he agreed.

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“has good refluxes. doesn’t need a cup.”

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“chuffy cheeks”

“condensed grass” ……..my beverage of choice

“I believe we owe you money.”

i am made aware of another mothering mistake

Posted on April 25, 2018 by Shanda

I simply love it when the children and I have time to chat without distractions because it gives them the chance to air their little grievances. This morning Seth and Sarah were all ready for school with about 10 minutes to spare. I stood by the door watching for the bus while Seth sat on the floor and Sarah sat on the couch. The family dog was flat on the floor, sound asleep and exhausted after a busy day yesterday when he escaped through his hidden dog fence and ran around the neighborhood for hours. We have since figured out that his collar is broken so in the meantime, we were discussing how we cannot under any circumstances allow him go outside when the bus came, as he usually does, and having Parker as the topic of conversation reminded Seth of something that hurt his feelings…..and naturally, it was my fault.

From the floor, he spoke up. “Mom? MY favorite animal is the dog. Caleb’s favorite animal was the SNAKE but then as soon as I decided MY favorite animal was the DOG he changed HIS favorite animal to the dog, too.”

(Caleb is his big brother and almost 4 years older than Seth.)

I turned away from the window to look at him. “Well, you can both have dogs as your favorite animal, besides, I’m sure that Caleb still likes snakes better.” But as I said this I realized that Seth was correct; Caleb has become a Dog Expert and watches lots of videos on youtube about……dogs. And has been begging me…..for a dog of his own. Well, it’s beside the point. Having siblings means having to share your favorite things with them. Life isn’t fair, ya know.

“And I feel ignored….” Seth continued, wide eyed. “I feel ignored because now, when you see a dog, you say, ‘Caleb, look at the cute dog’ and….. I’m ignored.”

He began to get actual tears in his eyes over this thought. It was obvious it came right from the heart.

As he buried his face in his hands, ashamed to be crying, I looked at Sarah, shrugged my shoulders, and bugged out my eyes, meaning; “Can you believe this kid?” She raised her eyebrows at me and it quickly became clear she was on “his side.”

She said, in a lecturing tone, “Well, Mom, the name Caleb MEANS DOG.”

“All this is MY FAULT?” I asked.

“You could have named Caleb Seth and Seth Caleb.”

I was stunned. So I raised my arms and said dramatically, “I would like to apologize to the entire room, especially YOU Parker, because you ARE a dog and you have to listen to all this. From now on,” I turned back to Seth, “If you and Caleb are together with me and I see a dog, I’ll say SETH LOOK AT THE CUTE DOG.”

Parker is elderly now so it touched my heart that between the three of them, he was the only one to slowly creak to his feet and walk over to me in order to accept my apology and get his ears rubbed.

Seth was smiling again, no doubt imagining Caleb’s face when he realized Seth took back his favorite animal and he would no longer receive motherly notifications about dog sightings,

then……thank heavens…..the bus arrived.

~snow in March~

Posted on March 8, 2018 by Shanda

Ah, the changeable weather of March.

This is what we woke up, nothing too terrible, but school was already cancelled and for hours and hours we felt rather let down. . . . .in fact, the roads were perfectly fine when I ventured out with Sarah for her dentist appointment at 11.

Next door to the orthodontist is a small floral shop so the two of us ducked inside to look around before heading home. It was warm and cozy and we met a cat named Penny. Sarah said, “Penny is a great name for a cat.”

No one appreciates flowers like a Northerner at this time of year. They are a feast to the eyes. . . . .

We came home with this arrangement. . .and a soy candle.

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back at home. . . . .

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David and I played Monopoly with Seth and Sarah. It was laborious. And not fun. By the time I had a total of 2 properties, everyone else had like 7. I kept landing on non property spaces. Seth played like he lives life, with no regard for keeping things orderly and neat, flipping around on the floor, spilling his iced tea, and so on. He also got tired of the game even though he was doing very well. We eventually congratulated ourselves for quitting at the half way point. (we made it that far) But isn’t the penguin token so cute? I thought of you, Dad.

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“Why aren’t these kids in school?”

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“I can’t relax in these conditions.”

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The Christmas Cactus surprised me with one more blossom! (in a cobalt fiestaware planter)

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Rich got home from Dallas just in time for the big snow-day. Everyone was glad to have him back. . . .including Parker the dog.

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Eventually the snow picked up.

Rich went out with the children to buy a mattress for Joanna’s visit (tomorrow) and I had a nice hour or so to watch the snow fall and read my book (Don Quixote) which has been a highly amusing literary surprise.

“Published in two volumes, in 1605 and 1615, Don Quixote is considered the most influential work of literature from the Spanish Golden Age and the entire Spanish literary canon. As a founding work of modern Western literature and one of the earliest canonical novels, it regularly appears high on lists of the greatest works of fiction ever published.” ~wikipedia

I picked up a copy at the thrift store for like 5 cents.

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When they arrived home with the mattress, I had just put chicken enchiladas in the oven. Everyone was so hungry. Enchiladas were never anticipated quite like this. We looked into the oven every 30 seconds to see if they were done. Meanwhile, Rich told me all about his wonderful deals at the mattress store. The man in charge gave them his full attention because, as he said, “You will probably be my only customers today.” Rich told me his story as the children all hovered around, listening and watching for Mama’s reaction, after all they were so proud of their Dad and knew I would be, too.

Alas, just as Rich finished up his report and concluded by saying, “Wasn’t that a good deal, Shan?”, Seth “ate his chair”, in the words of our 15 year old son. He had been rocking back and forth on his stool, leaning on it instead of sitting on it, and it slipped out from under him and landed on him with a loud crash. We all looked down at Seth on the floor as he started saying, like he was trying to convince himself or maybe pray for a miracle, “I’m okay, I’m okay! I’m okay!” Rich helped him to his feet and dusted him off. It was dear little his nose, the part right between his eyes. It swelled up slightly and bled a little but was not broken. “Wow, he totally ate that chair,” said Dave, “Is the chicken done yet?” Seth went to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. A picture would be nice right about now but I wasn’t in the position to be photographer at that point, I was too busy congratulating my husband for buying 2 mattresses, 2 pillows, 2 sets of sheets, a mattress protector, arranging free delivery and old mattress pick-up, all for the PRICE OF JUST ONE MATTRESS!!!!!!!!!!!! “Wasn’t that a good deal, Shan?” “Wait, I’ll tell you just as soon as I feel Seth’s nose to see if it’s broken………….”

I’ll just post this photo again. Boy was dinner good. They all dug in and enjoyed as they ate in front of the TV and got up for seconds and thirds. Yes, TV is totally okay during meals on snow days.

The rest of the day passed lazily. PTL

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The snow continued to come down heavily and we woke up this morning to yet another snowday. Rich plowed the driveways and headed to work after telling me, “No, I cannot take them with with me,” and the children went right outside before 8, after breakfast to make hyenas. (I don’t know but they took the bag of carrots, I saw Parker running around with one in his mouth)

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I filled up the bird feeders and admired little cat tracks.

I’m blogging in front of the window with my slippered feet up on the sill. When I look outside I have to squint a little, the snow is so white and bright it puts our ideas of “white” to shame.

a little husband and wife story

Posted on March 6, 2018 by Shanda

On Friday night I started falling asleep before our tv program was over so I gave up and went to bed. A few hours later I woke up to complete stillness in the room and thought, “Wow, Rich never came to bed, he must have fallen asleep on the couch!” Nothing gets by me even in the middle of the night……I don’t even need lights to get to the bathroom at night. Thus I got up and blindly walked around the bed to the bathroom and then when I was done, to save myself some steps, I started crawling over Rich’s side of the bed to get back to my side. To my shock and horror, I landed right on top of my husband who was flat on his back, peacefully asleep. He woke up startled, grunted, and reached out his hands to grab my arms and help me over which I thought was strange but I quickly backed up while apologizing and went back the way I came, which was around the bed and not over the bed. I crawled under the covers meekly on my side and held my breath. Thankfully he fell right back to sleep and so did I. By the next morning I was laughing and laughing. I had never jumped on top of my husband while he was sleeping before. Although I secretly knew he wasn’t really trying to be chivalrous and gentlemanly about helping me get over him, it made for a good story. I also wanted to see if he would react to my altering reality slightly. After hearing me tell the tale to the children multiple times that morning he finally spoke up and teased, “You can go right ahead and keep telling yourself that I was trying to help you but I was really trying to protect myself, I was in a very vulnerable position.”

And that’s the truth.

longer story

Posted on February 8, 2017 by Shanda

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The Impact of Food….Or Family?

At my home, our eating habits as a family have changed a bit over the years. I am the oldest of seven children, and as a result our household is one of constant, noisy hustle and bustle. My dad is a hard worker, and has worked his way up in the company that he is a part of, therefore we are reasonably well off. We don’t really have to scrimp and save to get what we need. However, my parents both come from families that had to live frugally while they were growing up, and so they both have the habit of frugal living etched into their DNA. The kinds of food that we eat and the close ties that I have with my family help to enrich my experience with food. It is very safe to say that it is not the food itself that keeps me coming back to certain places and certain dishes, but the strong memories and pleasant experiences that I have had over the same plates and in the same restaurants with my family and friends.

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I was born in upstate New York, the state my parents love, and also a state that is known for it’s cultural foods. My Dad is a great lover of pasta and pizza, and pizza is a favorite food of my family’s. One favorite pastime of ours when we go to New York to visit our extended family, is to meet at our favorite pizza restaurant and to catch up on the latest events around a fresh, hot pizza pie. Thin crust is, of course, the way to go in New York, and it is usually topped with flavorful sauce and heavy mozzarella cheese, with the occasional topping of pepperoni, mushrooms ,bacon, or sausage. I have countless great memories of the restaurant, which my parents and grandparents have been providing with service since that day that it opened it’s doors. I have countless pleasant memories with pizza in general. I have spent some time up at Castleton University, since it is where one of my numerous brothers goes to college. One of the first things we did together was explore the various places to eat in the area. To our great delight, we found a wonderful little pizza shop only about 10 minutes away from the college. As soon as we opened the door, thick, warm, and familiar scents of tomatoes, cheese, and meat flooded our nostrils. Smiles instantly leapt onto our faces as we cheerily said hello to the staff. It was an environment that made us feel at home, and it was just one more pleasant experience with this wonderful food.

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This brother and I are very close, he is only a year younger than I, and we’ve had our fair share of experiences when it comes to food. When we were very little, we used to spend a lot of time in our Grandmother’s blueberry patch. We call it “hers” because it is conveniently right across the road from her house, however it is entirely wild. My Grandfather painstakingly grooms it. He is always keeping the grass around the huge blueberry bushes mowed short, and is constantly making new pathways upon which to walk through and around the bushes, and lengthening, widening, and improving existing ones. The blueberry patch is quite large, and my Grandparents share it with other animals of the forest. Bears, deer, rabbits, turkeys, foxes, and countless songbirds are all appreciative of my Grandfather’s work at making the blueberries accessible, and they can be found in among the bushes on a daily basis. My siblings and I have many fond memories of walking through this blueberry patch with our Grandma, oftentimes joined by the occasional Aunt or Uncle. We would comb through the bushes, looking for the biggest and ripest berries, which we would pluck and place in a bucket to bring home. Grandma keeps large quantities of berries in her freezer for the off-season, and she uses these to bake into pies, muffins, or pancakes, which she always treats us with whenever we visit. Her pancake recipe is one that she has perfected, and is one that my Mom uses to this day.

This same Grandmother keeps a large garden, in which she grows corn, peppers, onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, pumpkins, radishes, and any other vegetable that she decides to grow on a given year. My mom has a small garden every year as well, but Grandma’s garden has always been the garden to us. She is always finding creative ways to cook vegetables from the garden into her home-cookies meals, and she also takes great pride in her pickles, which she makes in batches every year from her cucumbers. These cucumbers were always a source of pleasure for me as a kid. I looked forward to being able to pick and eat them whenever went to Grandma’s house. They are the perfect snack, crisp and crunchy and as fresh as they could possibly be. Half of the fun was hunting through big, thick, and rough cucumber leaves to find them, and then snapping them off the vine and washing them thoroughly with the garden hose before eating them. She gets all of her seeds from a local market which is open at certain times of the year and contains all manners of plants and seeds, along with locally produced syrups and honey. This market is another favorite place to visit for us, and whenever we go to visit my grandparents in the fall we usually make a pit stop there at least once or twice.

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When it comes to cooking, I would like to say that I’m decent, although my cooking skills have never really been put to the test. I can read a recipe and produce an edible result, but my Mom is the one who does most of the family cooking. Usually, her meals are pasta-based since these are the meals that my Dad tends to enjoy, in fact, if he ends up cooking for some reason or another, we will most likely end up eating spaghetti (or pizza). My Mom makes all manners of pasta, from the favorite spaghetti, to lasagna, ziti, or stuffed shells. When she doesn’t make pasta, she’ll make savory roast beef or sweet and salty pulled pork, or she’ll make various dishes with fish. She is quite a creative cook and has a whole bookshelf dedicated to cookbooks. She is always looking for new recipes that the family will like. My Mom used to be a lot more strict when it came to junk food than she is now. When I was little we almost never had candy or soda. Now, although it is still by no means prevalent in the home, it is not sanctioned as heavily as it was back then. My cooking tends to include lots of pasta as well. I’ll usually make penne, bow tie pasta, or spaghetti, and serve it with marinara or vodka sauce along with meatballs if I have them. I also make a splendid teriyaki salmon dish, which is made with maple syrup and teriyaki sauce marinated and baked into it to give it a wonderfully sweet flavor. I also make salad a lot when I’m with my friends; iceberg lettuce combined with carrots, cucumbers, broccoli, cheese, and croutons topped with caesar, ranch, or french dressings. This is by no means the healthiest salad in the world, but we consider it a healthier option than fast food at least.

My brother and I used to be somewhat explorative with our early cooking. Mom used to let us play around with ingredients and make our own homemade soups. We would gather our desired ingredients, usually a mix of vegetables like peas, corn, beans, and potatoes, and we would usually use hamburger and beef broth and explore how these ingredients worked with each other to produce unique flavors. Mom would always be close by and would assist us if she felt like we needed more experienced help. Once, when Mom was out of the house, my brother and I decided that we would try our hands at baking a cake. Unfortunately, we had little to no knowledge of baking, and I have since forgotten the exact ingredients that we used. All I know is that we used far too much cocoa powder, and the result was a disaster of a “cake.” Mom returned as we were contemplating where we went wrong, and she was extremely amused. Years of living with many kids have taught her not to be surprised when we do things that she’s not expecting.

These experiences that I had while growing up have shaped me to be the person that I am. Walking through the garden and the blueberry patch with my Grandparents, creating wonderful failures with my brother, trying different pizzas and pizza shops with my Dad, eating my Mom’s home cooked meals; these are all positive encounters with food that I have had that have moulded my culinary techniques and tendencies. Our experiences with and around food are some of the strongest ones that we have, and these memories with those that we love are what keeps us connected to the foods that we eat.

***

Jacob wrote this yesterday for college composition.

I was making homemade meatballs while he worked.

little story

Posted on February 7, 2017 by Shanda

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My gingerbread angel looks like it’s a clown but it is not.

It looks like it has a crown on top uv it’s head.

It looks like it has no moth.

but it dus.

It has three butins.

***

by Sarah, age 6

yee haa

Posted on October 26, 2016 by Shanda

A delightful story came home in Sarah’s backpack on Monday. Picture me reading this in the kitchen after baking two batches of two different kinds of homemade cookies, for my children.

It was a fascinating eye opener for me, as I tend to live in dreamland where children don’t care about video games as much as smiling parents with big hugs, warm cookies, friendly kitty cats, a big front yard outside in the country, lot of siblings, and clean bedrooms full of a magical assortment of good wholesome toys, puzzles, and books.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

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It’s the “evre day” that gets me. If it said “sometimes” or “occasionally”…..sure. But “evre day”? really?

So, without Further Delay….

Evre Day Aftr Scwol, by Sarah, six years old, & perhaps a genius

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I went don stars. too play viteo gams. I like to play viteo game. I like playing mincraft. Sarah said, “I like playing mincraft.”

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I saw a Zombe it was abowt to esplod my howse. Me and my dogs ar going to cil the Zombe. Sarah said, “cil it dogs.”

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I dfetid the Zombe. And I was hape. And my dogs wr hape to. I went bac to my howse to feed my dogs. Sarah said “I love my dogs.”

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Aftr I dufetid the Zombe I went to my hose. In my hose I gave my dog’s mett. Sarah said, “I love my dog’s”.

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Aftre I gave my dog’s mett I went to go hunting with my dog’s. Sarah said, “yee haa”.

The End.

sixty years ago and more

Posted on September 13, 2016 by Shanda

My mom read the last blog post and said maybe Jean’s recipes were still at the Thrift store so naturally I went down there this morning to see if they were. I said to myself, “Also, if there are anymore of those scrapbooks I will buy them.” There were no recipes anywhere and I came away with 20 or so scrapbooks and two books for 3 dollars. I felt rather like I was getting away with something. These books are a treasure trove of history.

I sat on the porch for a long time this morning, quietly turning the pages and only getting through two of them. They are delightfully engrossing.

“Afghans watch television at an American exhibit in Kabul.”

Look at their eyes.

Jean was a teacher. And as of the scrapbooks that I have, she was not married. There aren’t any personal things about her in the books but some cards and little notes given to her by friends and/or acquaintances, and a couple small certificates. There are no personal opinions or notes. The only key to her personality are the clipping she saved. Things like politics, weather, historical sights, antique furniture, poems, quotes, comics, bible verses or prayers, and animal photos. “You can know a lot about a person by the things they collect.”

“the information that he had been stricken by what is commonly called a stroke was camouflaged in medical double talk.”

“Grant us the grace of perspective as we listen to the centuries rather than to the hours.”

He’s so cute, he’s the same age as my Seth!!! So adorable.

“Photographing Animals is a Fascinating Hobby” I can agree to that.

“The duck has established an imaginary boundary line and every time Frank crosses it, the duck jumps in front of him and quacks loudly until the child turns back.”

“There is nothing too little for so little a creature as man. It is by studying little things that we attain the great knowledge of having as little misery and as much happiness as possible.”

“Mrs. John F Kennedy moving from the White House with her two children today.”

“We are tired of television and of staring stupidly into the screen.”

“We aim to get together and have some fun instead.”

******

I stared at the date on the calendar when I came back inside. To my surprise, it was 2016.

Have you ever had that feeling before?

loving hearts!

Posted on July 27, 2016 by Shanda

(((this was so exciting!)))

Last week, I took Grace along with me to a second hand furniture shop. I was looking for a dresser for Caleb because his had broken and we had to throw it away. All of his clothes were now located in the toy box and/or all over the place and it was driving me crazy.

We traveled the back roads, which was fun, and we even stopped at a little boy’s lemonade stand. Grace hopped out to make the transaction with him and got back in the car after spending 2 dollars on big red cups of warm watery lemonade and brownies that were as square and dry as chocolate hay bales. But we enjoyed every bite because the little boy reminded us of our Seth and he was sitting so still at his stand waiting hopefully for sales.

We arrived at the furniture store and didn’t make out very well as far as dresser shopping goes. It had only taken minutes to admit defeat, and because we hadn’t ever been in this particular town plaza we decided to check out the other shops, too, since we were there anyway. I mean, it would have been a waste of gas not to do more shopping, right? Conveniently, right next door was a upscale consignment shop full of all the things girls like; clothes, bags, more and more clothes, and to a lesser degree, knick knacks and accessories. Grace found a couple of very cute dresses and I found a shirt. (Okay, two shirts.)

We paid for our selections but as we went out the door the security alarm went off. We went back to the counter so the saleswoman could go through our bag to see if there were any sensors left behind in our items. As she worked, I just so happened to look down through the glass counter into the jewelry case and saw that they had some Tiffany jewelry.

Ten years ago, Rich gave me a Tiffany ring for Christmas. I still have the photos that he took of me opening the blue box wrapped in red ribbon, with a sweet yummy baby Caleb sitting on my lap. The ring was my first experience with Tiffany and it was a heavy, gold “Loving Hearts” ring, very lovely.

I had it on my finger the day Grace and I were together.

As I studied the Tiffany pieces the shop had, I noticed they had a SILVER Loving Hearts ring, exactly like mine!

I immediately knew…..that ring was for my dearest friend and daughter, Grace Lillian. I asked if we could see it. The lady handed it to me, and I handed it to Grace. “See if it fits your finger, this one, the same finger I’m wearing mine on!”

She obediently put it on, and it fit! Thanks to that false alarm (there were no sensors on our clothes) we ended up with a sweet surprise, a ring to match her Mama’s, for Grace. And it was from a second hand shop, marked at a very nice price, plus an extra 20 percent off!!

We walked over to our next stop (ice cream!) looking at our hands, all smiles.

Well, the ring was previously owned and admittedly, quite grimy with a few scratches. But no worries, because on Sunday afternoons Rich gets a craving for Pinkberry and the only Pinkberry around is about half an hour away, in a fancy-type mall which includes a Tiffany jewelry store, with guards at the door. So on Sunday, Grace and I nervously went in past the guards and asked if we could have our rings cleaned. The ladies cheerfully directed us to the back where customer service was located and the woman there told us that my ring could be done within minutes, but because Grace’s was silver it had to be left there for 48 hours. We reluctantly left the ring with them. Forty eight hours indeed passed very quickly and yesterday we drove back to pick it up.

It was like new!!!! I couldn’t believe my eyes, the ring was so sparkly and shiny, just as silvery as could be. And, come to find out, jewelry cleaning was a free service that they provide for their customers! We left a dirty ring and were given back a sparkly one in return.

We skipped out the door and naturally took a hand-selfie right there in the mall!

It was all rather like a fairy tale of some sort!

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PS, Caleb ended up with a very nice dresser–from Goodwill! In fact, his siblings are all jealous! Rich is very happy that he married such a bargain hunter.

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It has 9 drawers and a square cupboard in the middle for his treasures.