Cookie History Repeats Itself

One of my favorite memories about moving out west and getting settled in a new frontier was the kids’ nap times.

I was in my early thirties, and my youngest daughter had just turned three and I remember sending her to her bedroom for a nap one afternoon. I instructed her to stay in her bed while I went a few doors down to meet her big sister at the bus stop and walk her home from morning preschool. When I returned, I checked on my sleeping daughter only to find out that she was not sleeping. “Did you get out of your bed?” “No!” She replied. “Did you help yourself to the cookie jar while I was gone?” “Nooooo!” However, her face gave her away with a big ring of chocolate chip cookies around her lips. I had all to do to keep a straight face.

I spoke to this daughter (now in her early thirties) on the telephone yesterday and while we talked, she was brushing off chocolate chip cookie crumbs from her three-year old daughter’s mouth! I love how cookie history repeats itself!

This post links to “Tell Me a Story” hosted by Hazel, a wonderful story teller. Drop by her blog posted on my sidebar and enjoy a good story. Perhaps you have one you would like to share.

A Surprise at the Mall

I lost touch with a writer friend. I missed her and her cheerful blog posts. We met up in a most unusual way! I’m still in awe of how it happened. I finished my shopping at the mall and took a short cut to get to the parking lot. The path led me through the food court. The smell of Chicken Fajitas stopped me in my tracks. I planned lunch elsewhere, but now I followed my nose. I chewed my first bite of chicken taco salad when, out of nowhere, a loud redhead moved rapidly past the tables and into the booth with me. “I know you !” She shouted. I pondered if I knew this crazy lady. Did she mistake me for someone else? She shouted louder and stuck her finger in my face: “ You’re Mary; you have a blog called Pile of Smiles and you live in the Verde Valley .” It took me a second to compose myself. I stopped chewing my food. I know I stared too long at her face and then she said:...

A Memorial Day Reflection

Memorial Day is always noteworthy for me and my girls. Next Thursday marks the third year of missing their father, my husband. So many thoughts run through my mind. The journey of loss takes on various emotions. The strongest feeling, at first, was emptiness. In a split second, I would forget he departed forever. I imagined things I needed to talk to him about when he got back home. My mind is realistic now. He's not coming back. There will be no more times of sitting on the porch swing together on the front deck staring at the moon and the stars. He would tell me all he knew about the majestic night sky. I have so much I wish I could tell him, like the excitement of seeing our oldest grandchild make a decision to follow Jesus and get baptized on Mother's Day! And our little Amy, 11 years old, I wish he could have seen her on stage receiving her induction to the National Honor Society. Our daughters have their own ...

Hitched to a Rough Road

Photo Credit: Peggy James I got his email and wanted to shout: “Hey, buster, does the phrase “continued behavior pattern” mean anything to you? But I didn’t. Travis is at it again. His email revealed a litany of complaints about our neighborhood, our country road, our board officers, bad decisions made that will cost him money , yada-yada-yada . Travis is a Christian brother but you’d never know it. He is a large, loud man who shoots his mouth off as often as he shoots his guns back here in the hills. He interrupts at our road meetings and, like a typical hothead, he speaks truth but with a tone that makes me feel like I need to duck in case some of his words fly at me and smack me upside the face. I thought we were making progress, but we’re not. It is our rough road that brings us together . Last year we picked up the neglected pieces of our road association. We agreed to assemble once again to talk, make decisio...

Choose Joy in the Journey

Search This Blog