A while back, (before GPS), my brother, Billy and I met in Denver, where I was going to run in the Boulder Bolder. I flew in from Texas and he flew in from California. After we both arrived, we rented a car and off we went to make our way to my mother-in-law’s home in Loveland, where we were staying. We might have gone by way of the race track. I don’t remember. Anyway, I was the driver and Billy was the map reader.

About thirty minutes into our drive, we realized we were lost. Billy suggested we pull over and figure out where we went wrong. I thought that meant we would take a look at the map and together determine the best way to get where we were going.

I forgot my brother is just like most guys I know. He spent the next several minutes trying to figure out who’s fault it was that we were lost. Did he read the map wrong, or did his sister make an unauthorized turn?

Finally, I said, “Billy, we don’t  have to figure out who’s fault it is. We’re not married.” For some reason, that made sense to him and the remainder of the trip went great!

These two pictures were both taken during that trip to Denver. In the 2nd picture, Billy is hunting for our car after the race.

A friend of mine and her husband were on an RV trip and found themselves in a  lumberyard and there was no place to turn around. They had to back up, which can be extremely difficult if you’re towing a 32′ motor home. She swore she had nothing to do with it and he must have agreed because he blamed it on the dog. They had to find a place for her to go potty…fast!

It was tough for me when we became empty nesters. Oh, of course I missed the kids, but it wasn’t long before I realized I was the only one to blame when a tool was missing or someone had eaten the last of Kip’s M & M stash. The dogs couldn’t even help me out with those two. There were times when things happened that maybe, possibly, were the fault of someone else who lived at our house.

Sometimes, it is impossible to tell who is at fault and I think it’s a waste of time to try to figure it out. I’ve started to say things like, “I might have been sleepwalking and hid your favorite pen, but I have no idea where I put it. Have you checked the pocket of the shirt you wore yesterday? I might have put it there.” I love to see the lightbulb go off.

Have you noticed the male species can rarely find anything? My boys were always looking for their shoes. Kip would always say the last time he wore them, he put them in the closet where shoes go when you’re not wearing them. I always asked the boys if they had looked anywhere but on the ceiling.

I hope this blog isn’t construed as male bashing. I’d rather think of it as female enlightenment. I know you must be thinking of your own examples.

Hi, I’m Yram Sicnarf and I’m a little tardy filing this report, but I got delayed in London and a, well…read on.

The royal family and a few unexpected friends were out in full force to celebrate the Queen’s ninety-second birthday for the second time. They have this big parade with lots of pomp and circumstances, and I will say there were more circumstances than pomp…read on.

Windy Lindy Bergh: Wow, Airy. Aren’t you glad I got wind of the most spectacular event of the royal calendar year? We almost missed Trooping the Colour. I sure hope this airplane has enough fumes in it to get all the way there. I hate bailing out.

Airy Heart: Is that why they call you Windy, Windy? Is it ’cause you always get wind of big events?

Windy: No, Airy…it’s because I’m a Lindy Bergh and I fly higher when the wind’s beneath my wings. Why do they call you Airy, Airy? Never mind I think I have a pretty good idea.

Airy: Look! the Queen’s house people are all lined up to march in the parade. They must be so happy to get out of the house. Take a look at that one! She looks a little like Yram.

(Prince William is wearing the traditional bearskin cap of the Queen’s guard..Airy is a little off in her description. It’s called the Household Division. There are 400 musicians and 200 horses that march….That is Yram Sicnarf. She’s in disguise due to her recent legal difficulties. It appears she is dangerously close to getting another restraining order.)

Lav: Man, MG! The Murdo reunion parade was way more casual than this Troop’s one.

MG: Yeah…I can’t believe we have to carry our own sign. I asked a couple of those house people to carry it, but they had a coughing fit and didn’t answer me. They must have the day off.

Windy: Where did all these planes come from? We must be getting close. We better land.

Airy: Get us close to the balcony, Windy. I want to hobnob with the royals.

KK: Don’t get your knickers in a twist, sweetheart. I’ll leave as soon as my ride gets here.

Princess Kate: Prince William, do you see that copycat? Do you think she looks more chic in my hat than I do?

Prince William: I just hope The kiddos don’t beg us for a feline!

Pattycake: I’m serving cake at the after the party, party. Queen E. thinks it might rain.

Looks like Charles photo-bombed the after the party, party picture. Where is everybody?

Lav: I don’t think I can walk another step, MG. Did we take a wrong road? I think we got turned around. Can I have a horse like KK?

MG: Hey! Isn’t that Yram who just went by in the back of a police car?

When do we get to color, Mommy?

Airy: Do you think we’ll make it home in time for Tuesday night dinner? I’m hungry!

Windy: Sure thing, airy. I feel the wind beneath my wings.

I posted an op-ed, (smiles), on Facebook five years ago. That was long before I began writing the blog. It’s rather fascinating to me that I had the seeds of minimalist thinking and living planted in my brain over five years ago, and quite a coincidence my ‘opinion’ popped up on Facebook as a memory.
I want to preface this by saying, I think it’s okay to have and admire nice things. I like to think my tiny home has nice things in it. I just have to realize when I have enough. Possessions that aren’t meaningful to me, don’t tell people who I am. 

Here is my mini tirade…Five years ago…

As I’ve grown older (okay old), I have come to understand that I have spent many years fighting a battle that no one can win.  There has never been a defining moment when I realized that I have enough.  There is always more to get. I fell into the “keep up with the Joneses” mentality. It hasn’t been so much for myself, but for my family. I should have impressed upon them that those Jones people have an endless amount of money. I should have told them that in the end, even the Jones people are judged by who they are, not by what they have.  

My grandparents gave me so much that had nothing to do with money.  My parents had their financial ups and downs, but I now remember priceless things they said, and the things they did for me that had to do more with time than money.  

I beat myself up when I couldn’t stretch the budget far enough to buy the $200 tennis shoes for my kids, even though I wore the $15 Walmart shoes. Status symbols were a much bigger deal in Texas than some of the other places we had lived. I managed the $100 brand, but it was not appreciated. It wasn’t their fault. I fed into it. 

I didn’t realize  the best gift you can give your children and grandchildren is for them to feel security by means of  unconditional love, a happy home, enough food to eat, a roof over their heads, and most of all strong values. Those things are by no means easy to consistantly provide, but are far more important than stuff, stuff, stuff.  I wish I had learned that lesson sooner.  

Money, status, and things don’t buy love and respect; especially if the important things that make us all feel secure are diminished. It’s a hard one and it never really gets easy.  

When we leave this world THINGS go back into the box, but the ideals we stood for and the respect we earned, stay in the minds of the people who knew us and loved us for all the right reasons. 

I am so fortunate to have grown up in Murdo, SD. It was not a perfect childhood, but with my large extended family surrounding me, I got everything I needed. They were my happiness, and I can still reach back and get what I need from them. 

Today, I can also count on my wonderful family and amazing family of friends. I am so blessed.

I gotta go now.  I think I may have won the lottery.  Wait!  I already have.

***************************

Remember the good in your past. It puts everything into perspective, and makes for a much happier now.

The Bridge to Contentment…as captured by a SD friend, Dianna Kenobbie Diehm.

They came from Colorado in their brand new bumper pull.

They battled wind, rain and heat. (That day was terrible.)

The battery died, the water heater didn’t heat…the TV was complicated.

Dave said to Karlyce, “I’m beginning to think… this camping is overrated.”

When they finally arrived, they were pretty beat. 

Karlyce said, “Brother Kip, You can keep this heat!”

Kip said, “Sister you’re a loony tune. I told you not to come in June.”

The next day things got a little better, and I told Karlyce I would come and get her.

We told the guys they’d better start hopping and fix that stuff while we went shopping.

We felt kind of guilty running all over town. We were sure their feet never hit the ground.

It turns out we were right. They were so (not) busy, they didn’t see the light.

We spent the next three days laughing, eating and having fun, even though it stayed hot from sun to sun.

When they left this morning, and we waved goodbye, I really thought I was going to cry.

Kip shook his head in disbelief and said, “I hope they know there’s no relief ahead.”

They’re going to visit friends in Houston…

Dave will say, “Karlyce, what have you done?

Going toTexas in June is plain… stupidity.”

She’ll say, “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.”

Though it’s mostly true, I think it best…to say I’ve written this poem in jest.

I know they’re having fun with friends and so that’s where this story ends.

Miss you guys!

The moniker, “step-father”  makes me think of Cinderella.

She had a wicked step-mother…

Who wouldn’t let her find a fella.

She had mean and simpering step-sisters…

They said she was a freak.

Poor Cinderella had to think her future would be bleak.

Then along came a fairy-god-mother…

A magic wand was her trademark.

Cinderella went to the ball…

And knocked the Prince out of the park.

For step-mom and step-sisters…

It didn’t end too well.

They couldn’t get the Prince from under Cinderella’s spell.

Some think happy ever after… 

Is only in fairy tales.

Some think it can be found…

After everything else fails.

*****

When you married my mother, I didn’t know you very well.

I hoped you’d make her happy. Only time would tell.

You not only gave her love…

You gave her what she needed more.

You were the same good man each day…

As you were the day before.

It’s been forty-six years now, since you and Mom were wed.

When asked about my brother and me…

This is what you’ve always said,

“He’s my son and she’s my daughter.” (You don’t say that you’re too young.)

You were fourteen when Bill was born. I was born when you were twenty-one.

Our family is pretty big now. To our kids you’re Grandpa Gus.

When you married our Mom…

We got the best for all of us.

(Billy, Gus, and I at Horse Creek where we spread Mom’s ashes)

**********************

After all these years, step-father could be something I might say,

Because when friends or family need you…You’re only a step away.

And when you need your son or daughter, we hope you’ll always know…

We’ll step up just like you have… since all those years ago.

Happy Fathers Day, Gus…We Love You

I’m still going through mountains of old photographs. For a short, lighthearted post, I decided to show you a few that brought back memories and made me laugh…

My boss in Denver had babies very close together. She wore this dress so often, we all got really tired of it. For Halloween, I got the dress, blonde wig, and glasses and dressed up like her.

I was over it by lunchtime…

“Do we need to put Head and Shoulders on the list, or are you both just thinking?”

“My head doesn’t itch…I’m just thinking.”

We’re going straight to jail from here…

This is one of my favorite pictures of Nikki with her mad face.

Olivia got caught one morning helping herself to some leftover pizza from the night before. She got it out of the garbage.

Skyler stopped to smell the flower.
This is my brother, Billy, looking for our car. We were in Colorado for the Boulder Bolder race. I ran 5 miles uphill and we walked another 5 to find the car.

I’ll add these two from today. We took the dogs to the groomer and Dollie sat by the door all day waiting for them to come back.

x

Have you ever noticed that back in the 40’s and 50’s everyone who had a car, had their picture taken in front of it. Look at some of the old pictures you have of your parents or grandparents. I will bet you’ll find one with them standing in front of a car. I showed this pic in a blog I wrote the other day. Now I’ll show you what Mom wrote on the back of it.

From Kip’s family albums…

The first two are of Kip’s Uncle Klar. Doesn’t he look dapper in his riding breeches? The second two pictures are of a gal-friend of Kip’s mom ‘s. Her name is Mary Delle. I think she liked her car.

These were all in Kip’s family albums. The third one is his dad, Mack, with a crazy friend.

A couple of Mom and Dad

The first Army photo is of my dad. The second one was in Mack’s army album. He must have taken this photograph of his buddies as I don’t think he’s in it. Kip’s dad and mine were both in the Army Corp of Engineers and served at the same time. Their birthdays were two months apart. Kip’s dad was killed in a motorcycle accident when he was serving in Italy. He was only 27.

Grandma and Grandpa Sanderson

“Hey…would you all mind taking a picture of me by your car?”

It makes me wonder if people just wanted to show off their cars or did someone say, “Let me take a picture before you leave?”

We have pictures of all our kids with their cars, but I haven’t run across any except one of Mason standing by the car he disliked intensely. Kip, like most men, can tell me when a photo was taken because he knows the year and make of the car. He has pictures of all the cars he has ever owned. He almost cried when he saw the picture of his prized red Chevy Super Sport after a relative backed into the driver’s side door.

I really believe that boy’s and men’s identities are closely tied to the kind of car they drive.

Prince Phillip said that? I wonder if Queen E. knows!