Tommy James & the Shondells_Crytal Blue Persuasion

I absolutely LURVE Crystal Blue Persuasion. I remember EXACTLY where I was when I first fell in love with the song. In the back of my Mom and Dad’s ’64 White over Aqua Blue Chevy Impala, in the parking lot at Harrah’s casino, North Shore Lake Tahoe, with my sketch book, colored pencils, and 3 new issues of some teen horror mystery of the day, I had picked up at the local 5 and dime. I was 13 and didn’t have to stay at the Recreation Center (Kids Center) for the first time ~I was truly in my element up there in the higher altitudes, and Life was good. 🙂


Take a Ride in my Magic Radio Flyer

It’s going on 10pm and is a muggy 73° outside. A heat advisory is in effect until Thursday, Aug 12, 9:00 PM. I’m postponing my morning walks until next week, just to be safe. My walking buddy is still going.

I got a call from our neighbors last Sunday morning; they were out for a Sunday drive when they ran across 2 childrens’ wagons near Palmyra. I hoped in the Blazer and headed out to look for them. I found them in an older couples’ front yard, chained to a tree along-side some garden tools and a very nice handled crock.

They had two wagons; one was a Radio Flyer #18, the other was a Blue Atlas. The Atlas really caught my eye, but was in sad shape with much rust, while the Radio Flyer was in good condition, albeit with a newer paint job on the wheels. I’m pretty sure the inside was also re-painted at some point.

This view shows the Radio Flyer with a cactus my Mom had originally planted in a similar Radio Flyer, back in 1968-69. I will have to dig out the photos of the wagon where it was once parked at the Old Homestead, for comparison.

Radio Flyer #18 classic red wagon

The wagon will serve a dual purpose: ease of transport to and from the garage in late Fall, and again in early Spring when we bring it back outside again. DH is going to drill a couple more holes (it has 2 holes in it now) and seal-coat them for added protection from further rusting.

I’ve started another Woodland Lace Doily, for myself, this time. This is one of my favorite little doilies, and will go under my Tiffany lamp, when done. Then I’ll start on a Halloween theme doily.

This is last year’s Halloween Black Cats Doily; I made two, one for myself and a pink one for my oldest daughter, CJ.

What shall I do next….a Spider Web Doily? This one was gifted to my next-door neighbor-she’s the life of the party every Halloween, putting on a spectacular show for all the neighborhood Trick or Treaters~

Tomorrow promises to be hotter than today. It will be a good excuse not to go outside, but remain indoors, working on a doily or Nancy’s socks, whichever strikes my mood~

Hair to Here, No More

I lost 10 inches of old hair 2 days ago, and have finally overcome my initial shock.

I finally got up the nerve to get rid of years worth of L’Oreale Dark Brown 4G; it simply would not fade away gracefully. My normal medium reddish brown was becoming more apparent as it grew out, so I had to do something.

So on Wednesday, after 20 minutes of combing and measuring, 10 inches of my hair was laying in a heap on the bathroom counter, limp, rejected and sad.

I was at once mortified, and then relieved asI dried it and it looked and FELT more healthy than it had in literally years.

From this:

to this:

The dry ends are all gone, it’s laying nicely, so with a heavy heart, but lighter head, I start all over again.

DH took one look and said he wanted to do me, said it would be like doing a new woman, and not cheating. He was smiling as I smacked his ass. I love Mr. Comedian.

DH and I went to a local Harley Davidson dealership last week, and there was I, proudly strutting around with my waist-length hair, feeling all Biker-Chicky and all…

Yesterday we visited another bike dealership in Lake Geneva, and I donned my new Do, and felt like a traitor…do I deserve to look at a bike???

I saw a green two-tone Boulevard (Suzuki) and said, OYEAH, I still have kinda longish hair so why am I slinking around like a shaved rat with my tail tucked…DH said I’d still look foxy on that bike-I LOVE HIM!! ♥♥♥

Classic HD

2005 Suzuki Boulevard

Baby (R)Honda is a Walking Fool at 14 months, Baby can she move!  All I could get was a blur and the back of her head as she was leaving, hehehee!

Have a BE-YOU-tiful weekend!!


An Early Birthday Present, 32 Years Later…

An amazing thing happened a couple nights ago.

I logged into Facebook to post an add in the Many Horses Jewelry Supply Fan Page. While I was putzing around, I noticed a new notification said there was a new message in my Inbox. I went to check it out and noticed the name-I didn’t recognize the last name; it was the FIRST NAME that caught my attention immediately. There was a pause, not more than a millisecond, then I clicked to open it.

The message began with:

Hi Sandra,
I don’t even know if you remember me, but I have thought about you more than once over the years and glad to run across you on facebook.

The rest I will leave out, because in that moment, I realized a dream I had for so many years, was just about to become reality. In a matter of a few minutes, 35+ years were melted away, then I hit the Reply button and we reconnected again.

My 10th birthday Party Entourage, April 1967

I’ve given her my email address and we’re writing now, although it is a bit awkward, and I don’t want to rush in and pour out my soul in one fell swoop. Too much at once just might scare off someone you haven’t see or spoken to since grade school…

I am just happy to finally hear from her, after all these years. It’s not  important to know why we fell apart, as kids often do during their growing up years. We all move in different directions, and we never know where we’ll end up.  Some things are worth hanging on to, and one more of my wishes has been realized. I’m a very patient person that way.


I’ve got another hat on the needles- this time, it’s the Mary Jane’s Pithy Hat, with the cable stitch, for variety. It is going to fit more snuggly, as the stitches are tighter, not so knotty and loose.

Mary Jane's Pithy Hat

I like the look, and the pattern is very easy~the yarn, Red Heart Super Saver. Needles, 7 and 10.5 US.
Baby Mommy called last night to say she thinks we have a TOOTH!
Another milestone to add to her list of accomplishments: Baby Girl is just a step away from taking off on her own, is pushing about with help of mobile upright toys.
I got a new picture of Baby Girl with her Baby Turtleback on~ SO cute! She is such a good baby~ ♥♥♥

Time to place an order at Kohl’s for DD19. They are changing the work cloths and she has to get a specific color polo for winter now, “Hypnotic Blue”, and some new khaki pants. Thank goodness for the 20% code we got in the mail~offset the shipping, every little bit helps!


Hunter and His Gi-Gi’s

My DIL posted a picture of my Grandson Hunter with ALL of his Gi-Gi’s and I was surprised and delighted to see one my mother made for his daddy too!

This is an excerpt of her post:
Grandma AND Great Grandma Gi-Gi’s. The beautiful one covering Hunter was made by Richards mom Sandra and the yellow, green and orange one on the back of the couch was made by Richards Grandma Ranelli. You cant see it in the picture but under the blanket is the other one Grandma Sandra made. He loves them all!!

My mother made each one of her Grandchildren a Ripple Afghan. For that matter, she made every person who knew her, a Ripple Afghan.
When I cleaned out her Sewing Room, I found a trunk full of afghans she had made, and I treasure each and every one of them. She even got me started making them back then. One year, I believe it was 1977, I took orders from various people, and made 4 afghans at $25 each plus materials before Christmas.
That was my first taste of what it would be like to be my own boss, and I spent the next 20 years working to make that dream a reality! I made more than a dozen in the following years, while raising 2 children between 1975-88 and gifted them all. I remember going to Kmart, back when they had a craft section, and I’d buy 12 skeins of coordinating yarns, mostly Sayelle.
I had two more children from 1988-91 and lost interest in ripples for a time.

One day a next-door neighbor invited me over to sit and visit. While I was there, I noticed a beautiful multi-colored Rose Afghan laid out over the back of her couch. I commented on how lovely it was, the many colored flowers against an off-white border. She surprised me a couple days later by gifting the afghan to me. I was so shocked and happy, I couldn’t contain myself. I wanted to make another, but I didn’t have a pattern at the time. I got some yarn and sat down to begin counting stitches in a single square, and started making a new one. It wasn’t long before I had a whole  new complete blanket put together. I wish I could remember who I gave that one too~

What a wonderful thing, the Internet-I have located the vintage pattern and have saved a copy.

After my divorce, I lost track of that afghan, but I do have another one started and will eventually have to finish it. Maybe soon, I’ll pick it back up and get busy.
Ugh, the scanner does this one no justice-the colors are not at all as drap as it appears…I’ll have to wait for a sunny day and get a better pick of the entire works, to-date.
I’ll have to think about who will be the owner of this one.

For now, I have a couple knitted projects to complete-I’m on the final rows of Hannah’s Ina Goda Da Yarna Hat~my personal tribute to Iron Butterfly~

G’night, Lizzy B~

Army Basic Training 1960s: Fort Ord, California

The Secret Window~

Omigosh, is that the house on Watson Wy? :=) I know that house!!!

WOW, that was a surprise!  What were the chances this picture would get recognition?

Me and Mom, 2002

That was the last time I got to hold Mom.

I had just moved to Wisconsin, ready to pick up the pieces of my shattered life,  when I got the call. Dad was seriously ill and in the hospital, and I needed to go back home to take care of Mom~ and my world fell apart all over again.

You see, Mom had Alzheimer’s and Dad had been caring for her for the last several years before anyone even knew what was happening. Oh, I’d get the “we don’t want you to worry…”,  but those words alone were enough to drive me crazy with worry. But I was a million miles away, raising 2 little ones, and 2 teenagers.

I had no idea how bad things were, or the things he’d had to resort to, to keep her out of trouble. He had to unplug the microwave every night, so when Mom got up in the morning for her routine muffin treat for breakfast, she wouldn’t burn down the house. The last muffin Mom attempted to heat, was set for 4o minutes-about 39 too many. The smoldering remnants were tossed unceremoniously in the trash can out back.

I remember thinking how sketchy her letters had become, then they just stopped. She would tell me on the phone, she couldn’t quite put things down to words, and I would tell her  it was ok, I’d rather talk with her anyway. Then dad told me about the time she insisted something was wrong with her Singer 2010 sewing machine. It was one of the first electronic sewing machines, and Mom loved her sewing, made all her own clothes for years.
Nothing was ever wrong with the sewing machine; Mom had simply forgotten how to operate it. How frustrating she must have become, especially when the repairman told her 3 times,  there was nothing he could do… so she quit sewing, altogether. She loved to read her romance novels, but those too, were gathering dust on the shelf.

Dad had taken all the knobs off the range top, too. They were put out of reach in the cabinet, alongside the remains of seasoning packets that had gone out-dated many years before.

Dad came home from the hospital just 3 days after I flew in. He spent his remaining 5 days in a hospital bed, in the living room. I stayed with him  and we watched the Giants almost win the Pennant that year. When they lost, I saw the light go out in his eyes, then he settled back to complete his final journey. We spent the next couple days in each other’s company, neither of us speaking much, just happy to be together again. Most of the day, he just stared at the painting  of an Italian Villa on the wall above the T.V. Mom bought the painting when Dad was stationed in Germany, and although I don’t remember where she bought it, I remember the Street Painter and the day she picked it out.

I imagine Dad was taking his mind back to the home of his father and family, back to Italy.

Sometimes I can almost see him there in the painting,  now hanging in the Guest bedroom. I feel I’m still close to him in that way.

Think I’ll go upstairs and sit a while~


a doily I made for Mom, in her favorite colors~

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