You know your world is aligned when shoes begin sending you relevant messages! Check out what my latest purchase said to me. Here's how it happened.
I was recently nearing the end of a shopping adventure when I decided to make a last stop in a shoe department. I walked up to the 1st aisle and BAM! There sat this awesome pair of running shoes (I don't run, but the shoes are awesome). Immediately, my mind said, "Gosh I pray those are my size and feel good 'cause they are awesome looking!"
Woo Hoo they were my size and they felt good. They were a little more than I wanted to spend because I was in "bargain shopping" mode, but I put them in my buggy anyway.
After shopping and getting to my hotel, I began looking at all my purchases. Congratulating myself on a job well done.
I decided to put on my new shoes. When I took the tags off there was an extra tag on the shoes that I had not previously noticed. When I looked closer I realized on one side the tag had the zodiac sign for the Libra with some information listed- dates, gemstone etc.
It also said: Utopian and harmonious, carefree and outgoing, diplomatic and courteous. Those surely sounded like compliments to me. AND guess what? They were FOR me! I'm a LIBRA.
I promise I didn't even know the tag was on the shoes. BUT- hold on now because guess what the other side of the tag said.
"Look into the skies to see the signs
you are more than flesh & bone
you possess more power than gem or stone
you embody the brightest of all light
recognizing this energy requires keen sight
deal not with just the physical,
but also with the power of your third eye
seek that knowledge and apply
turn that knowledge into wisdom
and build a powerful, but peaceful kingdom
you may have been stifled, but now is your time
deal with self and you may find
total balance and complete sublime
just look into the skies to see the signs"
How did these shoes know everything going on in my life?! I love surprises like this when the world appears to align with everything on your mind and in your heart.
What's the world saying to you? Keep your eyes open, you never know how the message will be delivered!
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Whip it Good!
I'm no Julia Childs, nor Julie Parker of "Julie and Julia" fame. Truth be known, I probably don't even belong in the kitchen. In a perfect world, I would just show up at meal times and eat fabulous meals created by someone who loved to cook. I am right at home in the dining room- the kitchen is just another story.
Most recently, I've joined in a program called, "Slim, Chic, and Savvy." It is a real life changer- in a positive way. As part of this program we discuss filling your body with quality foods. Going for the naturals and such. This really resonates with me. I know, "Junk in junk out. Quality in, quality out."
As part of my enlightened journey toward being slim, chic, and savvy, I decided to follow the advice of our leader and "whip some cream" to put on top of our fresh from the market peaches. (Yes, I've been frequenting the local farmer's market:))
I purchased the whipping cream with the expectation of fresh peaches and cream for dessert. YUM! At home I put the cream in a bowl, added just a touch of sugar- as was recommended- and began whipping. I whipped and whipped. The cream became airy. Then sort of smooth. "This looks good." I thought. Not quite as thick as Cool Whip from a tub, but hey this is homemade.
I took a tiny taste on my finger. YUCK. It did not taste like Cool Whip or any other whip made from water, corn syrup, partially hydrogented vegetable oils, high-fructose corn syrup, sodium caseinate, natrual and artificial flavors, xanthum gum, guar gum, polysorbate 60, sorbitan monosterate, and beta-carotene for color.
Mine was not good. Could it be, that artificial was better than natural? No way! I refused to believe that. So...
I whipped a little more thinking it wasn't "done" yet. Yes, as you guessed it: BUTTER! I whipped my cream into such submission it decided to do me one better and become butter.
As a butter, my product was pretty fair. Maybe I'll even make my own butter from now on. It is so easy! But, my problem lingers. I have fresh peaches waiting to be eaten and not a dollop of whipped cream in sight.
Some of my com-padres in the Slim, Chic and Savvy class think I needed different equipment. They've even suggested a really nifty "whipper." (easily purchased on line) All you do is put in your fresh cream and then it squirts from this canister perfectly "whipped."
I like the idea of this contraption. It surely looks like the easy way to fresh whipped cream with out all the other ingredients you find in the previously prepared type. But, I'm no quitter you see. I refuse to be whipped by my own whipping cream. So today, it's back to the store for me. I'll be purchasing another carton of cream and building another layer of arm muscle as I attempt to make it fresh.
Perhaps to ensure some measure of success I'll involve my nine year old son and let him experience the process of matter changing through the scientific properties: from liquid cream to yummy fluff and if all else fails, forward on to solid butter!
Most recently, I've joined in a program called, "Slim, Chic, and Savvy." It is a real life changer- in a positive way. As part of this program we discuss filling your body with quality foods. Going for the naturals and such. This really resonates with me. I know, "Junk in junk out. Quality in, quality out."
As part of my enlightened journey toward being slim, chic, and savvy, I decided to follow the advice of our leader and "whip some cream" to put on top of our fresh from the market peaches. (Yes, I've been frequenting the local farmer's market:))
I purchased the whipping cream with the expectation of fresh peaches and cream for dessert. YUM! At home I put the cream in a bowl, added just a touch of sugar- as was recommended- and began whipping. I whipped and whipped. The cream became airy. Then sort of smooth. "This looks good." I thought. Not quite as thick as Cool Whip from a tub, but hey this is homemade.
I took a tiny taste on my finger. YUCK. It did not taste like Cool Whip or any other whip made from water, corn syrup, partially hydrogented vegetable oils, high-fructose corn syrup, sodium caseinate, natrual and artificial flavors, xanthum gum, guar gum, polysorbate 60, sorbitan monosterate, and beta-carotene for color.
Mine was not good. Could it be, that artificial was better than natural? No way! I refused to believe that. So...
I whipped a little more thinking it wasn't "done" yet. Yes, as you guessed it: BUTTER! I whipped my cream into such submission it decided to do me one better and become butter.
As a butter, my product was pretty fair. Maybe I'll even make my own butter from now on. It is so easy! But, my problem lingers. I have fresh peaches waiting to be eaten and not a dollop of whipped cream in sight.
Some of my com-padres in the Slim, Chic and Savvy class think I needed different equipment. They've even suggested a really nifty "whipper." (easily purchased on line) All you do is put in your fresh cream and then it squirts from this canister perfectly "whipped."
I like the idea of this contraption. It surely looks like the easy way to fresh whipped cream with out all the other ingredients you find in the previously prepared type. But, I'm no quitter you see. I refuse to be whipped by my own whipping cream. So today, it's back to the store for me. I'll be purchasing another carton of cream and building another layer of arm muscle as I attempt to make it fresh.
Perhaps to ensure some measure of success I'll involve my nine year old son and let him experience the process of matter changing through the scientific properties: from liquid cream to yummy fluff and if all else fails, forward on to solid butter!
Monday, January 18, 2010
Nothing says, "Priceless" like dropped jaws and tears of joy.
Living in a home where everything is male: husband, two sons, dog, cat, and even the two fish, you learn to enjoy sports and entertainment of all varities; not the least of which around my home is WWE Wrestling.
Throughout the last decade, as my oldest son, Matthew, has grown up and the youngest, Cooper, has come along WWE Wrestling has been a staple for entertainment. Most recently, even I have become a fan of one wrestler in particular. (Over time, these things grow on ya')
Most importantly I have enjoyed the camaraderie that swells in the living room on Sunday and Monday evenings when this wrestling entertainment comes on television. The time spent between father and sons oohing and aahing over the moves, feats, and taunting in the ring is a delight to warm any mother's heart. Seeing her three favorite men united in one cause, rooting for or against a decidedly good or bad guy, confirms that dads do have a place to fill in young mens' hearts that none other can do.
Knowing that this entertainment is one of the ties that binds our unit together, you can imagine the surprise we pulled on the two kids last Sunday evening. We simply told them that they were not allowed to have any plans after 2:00 in the afternoon because we were going to have "family time."
Seventeen year olds don't like this kind of thing. Immediately the fussing began. "This sounds labor intensive." "What will I have to do?" "How many hours is this going to take." Blah, blah, blah.
My husband and I said nothing.
Just for fun, I bought each child a package of gum and told them it was for the ride and was their only clue as to what we were doing. We piled in the car and started the 90 minute drive to Florence. Matthew gave up guessing what torment and torture lie ahead and we had a most pleasurable drive.
Believe it or not, we made it all the way into the parking lot of the arena without either of the boys noticing a sign. When we pulled in there were lines of people all over the place. Matthew and Cooper began, "What in the world? Where are we?" My husband turned around and said, "We're at WWE Smackdown!"
That's when the moment hit! Cooper's mouth literally dropped open and then tears of joy began running down his cheeks. Matthew exclaimed and hugged Cooper. "Can you believe it?! I've wanted to do this for years. Remember, Dad we always talked about it."
And so it came to pass. The four of us retrieved our tickets and entered the arena for what was two and a half hours of pure entertainment! My Visa moment came to life- gas to Florence: $28, 4 tickets to WWE Smackdown: $197, dropped jaws and tears of joy from my sons: PRICELESS.
Living in a home where everything is male: husband, two sons, dog, cat, and even the two fish, you learn to enjoy sports and entertainment of all varities; not the least of which around my home is WWE Wrestling.
Throughout the last decade, as my oldest son, Matthew, has grown up and the youngest, Cooper, has come along WWE Wrestling has been a staple for entertainment. Most recently, even I have become a fan of one wrestler in particular. (Over time, these things grow on ya')
Most importantly I have enjoyed the camaraderie that swells in the living room on Sunday and Monday evenings when this wrestling entertainment comes on television. The time spent between father and sons oohing and aahing over the moves, feats, and taunting in the ring is a delight to warm any mother's heart. Seeing her three favorite men united in one cause, rooting for or against a decidedly good or bad guy, confirms that dads do have a place to fill in young mens' hearts that none other can do.
Knowing that this entertainment is one of the ties that binds our unit together, you can imagine the surprise we pulled on the two kids last Sunday evening. We simply told them that they were not allowed to have any plans after 2:00 in the afternoon because we were going to have "family time."
Seventeen year olds don't like this kind of thing. Immediately the fussing began. "This sounds labor intensive." "What will I have to do?" "How many hours is this going to take." Blah, blah, blah.
My husband and I said nothing.
Just for fun, I bought each child a package of gum and told them it was for the ride and was their only clue as to what we were doing. We piled in the car and started the 90 minute drive to Florence. Matthew gave up guessing what torment and torture lie ahead and we had a most pleasurable drive.
Believe it or not, we made it all the way into the parking lot of the arena without either of the boys noticing a sign. When we pulled in there were lines of people all over the place. Matthew and Cooper began, "What in the world? Where are we?" My husband turned around and said, "We're at WWE Smackdown!"
That's when the moment hit! Cooper's mouth literally dropped open and then tears of joy began running down his cheeks. Matthew exclaimed and hugged Cooper. "Can you believe it?! I've wanted to do this for years. Remember, Dad we always talked about it."
And so it came to pass. The four of us retrieved our tickets and entered the arena for what was two and a half hours of pure entertainment! My Visa moment came to life- gas to Florence: $28, 4 tickets to WWE Smackdown: $197, dropped jaws and tears of joy from my sons: PRICELESS.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
We'll leave the light on for you!
My sister was here for a visit this weekend. She said she needed some, "down time to rest and relax." I think this is funny that anyone would consider coming to my home "down time," but hey, who am I to judge?
My sister is not married and has no children. She does have a puppy. Q-tip is his name. Cooper, Matthew, and I named him- that's a story for another day. Anyway, my sister and Q-tip came to my home, the land of boys of all ages, races, and creeds waltzing in and out without knocking, to engage in "down time."
I can tell you, we'll leave the light on for you, but we are no Red Roof Inn.
For example, on the night she arrived I had the pull-out couch ready for her. You know the one with the bar running across the small of your back. Everybody has one of those to offer your guest, right? I had it made up with a couple of sheets and a blanket. I put a pillow case on a couch pillow and figured she'd make herself at home.
She arrived late in the evening and being as I was recovering from "Kindergarten Fun Day," (another whole story!) I did not rise to greet her. Later I discovered that she arrived at our home before Matthew and cousin Clay's curfew. So, on her first night of rest and relaxation, she was roused from slumber a bit later in the night when they came in and engaged her for a time in conversation and tales of 17 year old boy frivolity.
In the morning- and I'm talking morning- 6:55am on a Saturday the dogs and Cooper woke Aunt Martha again. Everybody loves when Aunt Martha comes to visit.
I would like to say that the next night offered Aunt Martha a real opportunity for rest and relaxation. In some ways it probably did. I gave her Cooper's bed on night two. She remarked how comfy it was. I'll have to say it is a nice mattress. Even JR, our 55 pound lab mix, knows how sweet that mattress is. Yes, he crawled in the bed with Aunt Martha sometime in the night. She commented that she did not feel him jump on the bed. She only noted that after some point in the evening, she could no longer move her legs due to his body weight.
Oh the joys of staying with us! I told you we're no Red Roof Inn.
I'm not sure that Aunt Martha got much rest while visiting us, but I've been thinking that perhaps "up time" is the real "down time." Maybe it's the love that comes from teenagers who wake you in the late night or the excitement of a child who wakes you in the early morning or the feel of a dog who can't get enough of you that really rejuvenates. Maybe "down time" is really achieved if while you're "up" you're engaged in matters of the heart rather than in stuff that doesn't matter. Why else would Aunt Martha come to visit us for rest and relaxation?
Whatever her reasons, one thing is for sure: Red Roof or not, we'll continue to leave the light on for her.
My sister is not married and has no children. She does have a puppy. Q-tip is his name. Cooper, Matthew, and I named him- that's a story for another day. Anyway, my sister and Q-tip came to my home, the land of boys of all ages, races, and creeds waltzing in and out without knocking, to engage in "down time."
I can tell you, we'll leave the light on for you, but we are no Red Roof Inn.
For example, on the night she arrived I had the pull-out couch ready for her. You know the one with the bar running across the small of your back. Everybody has one of those to offer your guest, right? I had it made up with a couple of sheets and a blanket. I put a pillow case on a couch pillow and figured she'd make herself at home.
She arrived late in the evening and being as I was recovering from "Kindergarten Fun Day," (another whole story!) I did not rise to greet her. Later I discovered that she arrived at our home before Matthew and cousin Clay's curfew. So, on her first night of rest and relaxation, she was roused from slumber a bit later in the night when they came in and engaged her for a time in conversation and tales of 17 year old boy frivolity.
In the morning- and I'm talking morning- 6:55am on a Saturday the dogs and Cooper woke Aunt Martha again. Everybody loves when Aunt Martha comes to visit.
I would like to say that the next night offered Aunt Martha a real opportunity for rest and relaxation. In some ways it probably did. I gave her Cooper's bed on night two. She remarked how comfy it was. I'll have to say it is a nice mattress. Even JR, our 55 pound lab mix, knows how sweet that mattress is. Yes, he crawled in the bed with Aunt Martha sometime in the night. She commented that she did not feel him jump on the bed. She only noted that after some point in the evening, she could no longer move her legs due to his body weight.
Oh the joys of staying with us! I told you we're no Red Roof Inn.
I'm not sure that Aunt Martha got much rest while visiting us, but I've been thinking that perhaps "up time" is the real "down time." Maybe it's the love that comes from teenagers who wake you in the late night or the excitement of a child who wakes you in the early morning or the feel of a dog who can't get enough of you that really rejuvenates. Maybe "down time" is really achieved if while you're "up" you're engaged in matters of the heart rather than in stuff that doesn't matter. Why else would Aunt Martha come to visit us for rest and relaxation?
Whatever her reasons, one thing is for sure: Red Roof or not, we'll continue to leave the light on for her.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Oh the shoes...
You can view the pictures of Matthew's prom shoes, him and his date at http://picasaweb.google.com/wynngodbold
Enjoy the pictorial followup.
:)Wynn
Enjoy the pictorial followup.
:)Wynn
Sunday, May 3, 2009
"You got to mix it up somehow, Mom."
Being Mom to a 17 year old is, well, unpredictable. Not only does Matthew do and say things that surprise me, but the emotions that are stirred in me by the simple things he does surprise me also. Take for example our recent trip to the tuxedo shop.
It is prom time in Myrtle Beach and my son is a junior in high school. He dates one girl steady. I like her very well. She's outgoing, helpful, and best of all- not afraid to eat with us. Don't get me wrong. She is not a heavy girl. She is simply comfortable eating with the family.
Back to prom... Mallory, Matthew's girlfriend, invited me to see her dress some time ago. It is very beautiful, but I can't tell more because she does not want Matthew to know what it looks like. (This is a small world you know- one of you might see, call, text, im, or twitter the secret to him.)
At any rate, having seen the dress I knew Matthew needed a basic black and white tux- easy enough right? NOT! I've never ordered a tux before. My groom only wore a suit at our wedding for Pete's sake. Oh the choices. I tried to explain to the clerk that we needed help. I'm not sure she realized how much help until we gave her the tell tale blank stare as our response to her first question.
After the "duh" set in, she doubled back and said, "Let's start at the beginning." We made it through the decisions: jacket, buttons, tie, vest, pants, suspenders... on and on we said, "yes and no" appropriately. All the while she nodded approval or hesitated just long enough for us to take her cue and change our minds. This system worked well until... the shoes. The last decision. I thought by now we had this thing in the bag, but when the shoe page came Matthew hesitated and then pointed. He wanted the black and white shoes. I can not even begin to describe these shoes. My only hope at explaining them is to share what my 8 year old, Cooper, said, "Those are bowling shoes." Oh my! But from Matthew came one respectful, serious statement: "You got to mix it up somehow, Mom." Enough said.
If black and white shoes were going to be the "mixing it up" we were doing so be it. In the grand scheme of the 17 year old world- this was a mixin' I could celebrate. After all, those black and white shoes won't be any worse than the head-to-toe sunshine yellow tux his father wore in 1978.
Somebody get me a camera:)
It is prom time in Myrtle Beach and my son is a junior in high school. He dates one girl steady. I like her very well. She's outgoing, helpful, and best of all- not afraid to eat with us. Don't get me wrong. She is not a heavy girl. She is simply comfortable eating with the family.
Back to prom... Mallory, Matthew's girlfriend, invited me to see her dress some time ago. It is very beautiful, but I can't tell more because she does not want Matthew to know what it looks like. (This is a small world you know- one of you might see, call, text, im, or twitter the secret to him.)
At any rate, having seen the dress I knew Matthew needed a basic black and white tux- easy enough right? NOT! I've never ordered a tux before. My groom only wore a suit at our wedding for Pete's sake. Oh the choices. I tried to explain to the clerk that we needed help. I'm not sure she realized how much help until we gave her the tell tale blank stare as our response to her first question.
After the "duh" set in, she doubled back and said, "Let's start at the beginning." We made it through the decisions: jacket, buttons, tie, vest, pants, suspenders... on and on we said, "yes and no" appropriately. All the while she nodded approval or hesitated just long enough for us to take her cue and change our minds. This system worked well until... the shoes. The last decision. I thought by now we had this thing in the bag, but when the shoe page came Matthew hesitated and then pointed. He wanted the black and white shoes. I can not even begin to describe these shoes. My only hope at explaining them is to share what my 8 year old, Cooper, said, "Those are bowling shoes." Oh my! But from Matthew came one respectful, serious statement: "You got to mix it up somehow, Mom." Enough said.
If black and white shoes were going to be the "mixing it up" we were doing so be it. In the grand scheme of the 17 year old world- this was a mixin' I could celebrate. After all, those black and white shoes won't be any worse than the head-to-toe sunshine yellow tux his father wore in 1978.
Somebody get me a camera:)
Monday, April 27, 2009
Let the Praise Germinate- It Might be more Powerful
This weekend my youngest son, Cooper, and I went to visit Grandma. This is my mother who lives in a nursing center in Charleston. My mother has Alzheimer's, however we all suffer from it.
Cooper and I visited Grandma and shortly sensed she needed to rest. We left and went over to Target. $15.00 and a GI Joe later, we returned to check on her and see if she was up to going out for supper. She was.
We went to dinner, but she again appeared restless so we ate and made our way toward the nursing home. On the way, we visited the drive through of Dunkin Donuts. Cooper and Grandma each ordered a donut for desert. We took them to the nursing center. After getting Grandma comfortable in her bed, Cooper began breaking out the donuts.
It is always a joy for me to watch my children when they "rise to the occasion," especially when they don't realize I'm looking. The patience and care Cooper took in getting Grandma's donut to her and enjoying his along with her made my night- not to mention Grandma's.
What a pleasure to watch my young son give my dear mother the joy of a lifetime- a simple shared donut- or was it a moment of love? I looked past the donut and reveled in the love.
I said nothing at the time, but made a point to tell Cooper of my pride and pleasure in his actions the next morning. By waiting until the next day, the impact was greater. As I finished my words, he smiled broadly, but said nothing. He didn't need a bribe, he didn't expect a treat. He acted from his heart and his inner feelings were validated and encouraged when he was not expecting it.
Next time your child does something you are proud of wait a moment- or over night. Then bring it back up with your compliments and watch what happens. You might just see this written on his/her face: "Hmm, if it matters so much Mom or Dad remembered it this morning, I should probably do it again."
Cooper and I visited Grandma and shortly sensed she needed to rest. We left and went over to Target. $15.00 and a GI Joe later, we returned to check on her and see if she was up to going out for supper. She was.
We went to dinner, but she again appeared restless so we ate and made our way toward the nursing home. On the way, we visited the drive through of Dunkin Donuts. Cooper and Grandma each ordered a donut for desert. We took them to the nursing center. After getting Grandma comfortable in her bed, Cooper began breaking out the donuts.
It is always a joy for me to watch my children when they "rise to the occasion," especially when they don't realize I'm looking. The patience and care Cooper took in getting Grandma's donut to her and enjoying his along with her made my night- not to mention Grandma's.
What a pleasure to watch my young son give my dear mother the joy of a lifetime- a simple shared donut- or was it a moment of love? I looked past the donut and reveled in the love.
I said nothing at the time, but made a point to tell Cooper of my pride and pleasure in his actions the next morning. By waiting until the next day, the impact was greater. As I finished my words, he smiled broadly, but said nothing. He didn't need a bribe, he didn't expect a treat. He acted from his heart and his inner feelings were validated and encouraged when he was not expecting it.
Next time your child does something you are proud of wait a moment- or over night. Then bring it back up with your compliments and watch what happens. You might just see this written on his/her face: "Hmm, if it matters so much Mom or Dad remembered it this morning, I should probably do it again."
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