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Tag: mothers

10 Things I Learned

It’s almost Mother’s Day.  I learned a lot from my mother.  I learned a lot from being a mother, and from other mothers.  I’m still learning.  These are just a few. 10 Things I Learned from my Mother: Family is forever. You can fly high, fall down, and get back in the game when you have a safety net of love. It’s important to be nice. Look at things from the other person’s perspective. One, catholic, and apostolic faith is a grounding force. Bitch is not a bad word; sometimes you gotta be tough. Flexibility knits souls together. Sacrifice, hard…

NaBloPoMo: Mother and Four Sisters Journey East (Day 1)

Most of my family lives in Michigan. Three’s just me and Frank that live in another state. (Frankie, if your read my Once A Little Girl Blog. Yes, Frankie is one of the Little Kids, the one I put the diaper on. Frankie or Frank-the-Prank, or Frankfurter, or Frank by any other name; He is my Pal.) It’s probably no accident that the two of us live the furthest from our origin. We are the most independent, the most rebellious, the most adventurous. Anyways, that’s how I choose to see it.

I had a bright idea: take Amtrak to the small town near Mom’s. I can rest, write, read. The time is a about the same, 5-6 hours, depending on whether we get waylaid by a freight train, but I’ll arrive at just about the same cost, and no travel fatigue. That is, if I don’t count getting to the train station.

First, I get to attend Duckie teaching acrylic painting to the general public.
“I hate you for talking me into doing this!”
“I love painting. Did I spell anything wrong in my instruction?”
“I can’t wait.”
“I hate you.”

20130610-070140.jpgDuckie is wonderful. She takes over the crowd with her smile and her detailed instructions. From the small piece I get to see. I had to leave for the train 15 minutes in. I could have left at 2:08 on Metra, got to the station at 3:30 and ran for the 4:00.

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Photo Friday: Be Quilting

Grandma B pieced quilts when she was a little girl.  That’s what little girls did way back when, according to her.  In the summer, she sat with friends on a blanket in the yard and pieced together quilts. Grandma B never learned to quilt.  Her mother did the quilting. I made a quilt for Mom and Dad back when my little ones were, um, little.  My sons sat with me, needles in hand, sewing with unknotted thread.  They “sewed” as long as their attentions allowed.  Mom and Dad both cried tears of joy when they received our labor of love. …

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