Tales of the Ordinary Days

Back in the days of Easter cake and dyed eggs (aprons painted and handmade courtesy of Grandma Mary) Another Easter Sunday is upon us. As we sat in church today, the boys on one side and Garrett on my other, I reflected on how my Easters have changed over the years. St. Wenceslaus Church was filled with dolled up tots, wearing their Easter dresses and mini-ties. In years past, my boys would have been dressed to the tees with brightly colored polo shirts and cool shoes. Now as young adults who choose their own clothes, I will give them credit for looking very handsome today as well. My Easter preparations have also changed significantly over the years. I reflected on the fact that this was my first Easter with the boys with no Easter baskets or dyed eggs. I actually bought no candy and didn't even consider it. Garrett and I had to ponder what we did last Easter. Did we have our kids and were we even together? After slight hesitation, we remembered that the two of us...

Our very large garden was just past the white barn As children, we would help our mom and grandma tend to our large garden on our grandparent's farm. Below are my mom's words on memories surrounding our garden... _______________________________________________________________________ The huge garden was on the south side of the big barn, the cattle lot abandoned long ago, but rich with "aged" manure. Mom knew it was perfect for a vegetable garden. You name it, we grew it, by the bushel. Oh, did I mention the cantaloupes? None better, hands down! the tomatoes - what a crop. How many pints and quarts I canned - lost count. You kids called them "screwed" tomatoes - not "stewed" as was the proper name (the ingredients for stewed tomatoes are tomatoes, onions, celery and sugar). the sweet corn was to die for! our chest freezer was busting at the seams. All of us, Mom, me, Sandy, Matt and Mark worked together to plant and had fun doing it. Stri...

Promotion announcement in 1995 It's a wrap. I am officially a Lutz Alumni...former employee..past shareholder. No mounted picture will be displayed on wall memorializing my past work and none is needed. Just a new chapter in my life and as I like to say; it was a good run. As the boys helped me pack up my office today, Grant asked "Mom, is this weird? Are you sad?" I thought for a moment and knew that although the sentiment was a little bittersweet, I felt fine. "Grant, when you finish 7th grade, will you be sad to be done or ready for 8th grade?" "Both, but mostly happy for 8th grade" was Grant's response. Bingo. As I drove off, I knew that all the people I have shared life with, co-workers and clients, would still be friends. I am only a stone's throw away. The nature of our relationship will just change a bit and no more tax seasons for me <smile>. After arriving home I dug through some basement files looking for my init...

Gma Doc, me, Great-Gma Hahn, Mom This four generations picture was taken June 14, 1975 at St. Margaret Mary's Catholic Church in Omaha, Nebraska. We were at my Uncle Dennis and Aunt Rebecca's wedding (Guest blogger today is my beautiful mother, Mary)... Joan, a bridesmaid, rode with us to Omaha. For the entire ride she and I sat in the back seat while I finished the alterations on her dress. I was sweating bullets and she was in tears! The dress was purchased in Omaha with alterations to be made there, but it didn't happen. Joan brought the dress home with her on the Thursday night prior to the wedding; I did what I could on Friday, but didn't finish. What a ride!

Photo by Grant (my very reliable photographer) I decided to break out my yellow sweater today. I am guessing the inspiration was Easter. It reminded me of a blog I wrote some time back after the purchase of this canary treasure. Today will be a blog repeat... _______________________________________________________________________ People are known to have flashbacks to traumatic childhood experiences. Memories that are in the dark recesses of their mind and triggered back to the present by some trivial incident. I just had this happen to me. Fortunately my lost memory didn't entail physical harm or something incredibly sad. Don't get me wrong; at the time it was devastating to me. But I can now chalk it up to yet one more childhood experience that helped thicken my skin. The flashback came to me just an hour ago at work.  I was sitting at my desk; quietly working.  One of my partners, Scott, walked by my office and commented in passing,...

Fr. Mel died a year ago. That's so hard to believe. The above photo was forwarded to me from Louie, a mutual friend of Mel's. Funny how life has interesting turns. A year ago Louie and I were honorary pallbearers at Mel's funeral and now I see her frequently at physical therapy. My ACL surgery brought me the pleasant surprise in sharing a bit of life again with this awesome lady. We both knew this anniversary was approaching when we chatted at my last visit. With smiles and teary eyes we remembered our old friend. Louie shared some notes and pictures from his family. His memory is very much alive despite the year that's passed. It amazes me how many people he positively touched during his time on earth. Heartwarming stories of him have frequently popped up over the last year. His empathy and connection with the human spirit are evidenced by these stories. I only knew Fr. Mel during the last years of his life when he was battling illness. With this timing came an ...

A Scheel's run after dinner I hear parents complain about their kids not knowing the art of playing. Not at my house. No doubt I would prefer that video games were outlawed, but my boys do know how to have fun and play. And play means the good old fashion way; being outside, making up games, wrestling, creating...the good stuff. Tonight was a good night. All three boys sat around the kitchen table for dinner. Both Stefano and Garrett were here to join us too which was frosting on the cake. The dinner conversation centered around hockey, weekend fun, sports, and boy jokes. There were many smiles. The lack of table manners was covered up by the enthusiasm in their non-stop dialogue. My boys are just plain fun. Their methods to make their mother laugh does draw them many "byes". Too many, I'm sure, as I am quite sure they use these tactics to game the system. Oh well. Consider me gamed. Like my mom always said, sugar is better than vinegar. (side note...check...

Mom catching a ride with little sister, Kathy My mom is my biggest blogger fan (thanks, Mom!). But the truth of the matter is that she is the master memory-holder and story teller. She holds the coveted position of curator of the family genealogy files. A fetish for details, Mom sleuths every hole in the family history timelines and traces names of the unrecognized faces in the old family photos. She's a pro. And Mom has an eye for a great photo. She finds the treasures hiding in old albums. The best photos carry a story. There is nothing better then when my e-mail lights up after she stumbles on a good one. The above photo came with the note below. I love the the naturalness to the snapped picture; with Kathy pulling up the back of her dress and my mom working on her ladylike posture. "I was going to Briar Cliff at the time. Not sure about the Microbus' year. We didn't have it very long. However, David had many a "party" in it when he was a senior. A...

A visiting friend has cried foul on our basketball fixation of late. Admittedly born without the sporting gene, talk of back-to-back games and broken brackets sounds mad to his foreign ears. "How on earth can watching a bouncing ball fascinate the masses?" Welcome to March Madness. The next pause from our amiable friend was the abundance of TV screens in every public establishment. From fancy restaurants to the media-ridden sports bars, we Americans are never far away from our favorite live game. A seemingly spectacle to foreign eyes. A norm to our daily living. We can't get enough. And it would be deemed impolite not to ask your waitress how her bracket looks. Although most are in touch with the current standings. An update is only a Tweet, FB post, or streaming video away on our I-phones. Mad? Nah, just a great diversion to close out the winter and bring in the spring. You know what they say...when you go to Rome, do what the Romans do.

Isn't Garrett cute? His dad thinks so... then he blinked and 40 yrs passed Time. An asset often. An area of stress; many times. Although we all cherish it, we also wish it a way at times too. A good friend once shared with me his mother's wise advice "never wish time away". This was shared after some whining on my part on my child's "terrible twos" stage. So as I sat in church with irrelevant children, back in the day, I would remind myself of this. Instead of sweating it, I remembered there would be a day I would be in church alone; smiling at other's babies and wondering how mine grew so fast. Everyone told me this would happen and it did. Time is something I value very much. When it's limited, I'm greedy with it. Raising kids I would often think of the value of an hour and how one used poorly was an hour taken away from them. With Garrett in Denver and our time very limited, we have grown used to enjoying every minute we have toge...

All is forgiven...Abby snuggles up to me I like milestones. Today is one week post-surgery. Amen to Week One under the belt. The second milestone was getting under the covers again. Last night was the first night in a week I slept under the covers on my bed. Bliss. My cat, Abby, is just as pleased with life back to nighttime normalcy. Abby is fickle. Last night at piano I played a song called "The Woman is Fickle" (for those interested...from the beginning of act 3 of Guiseppe Verdi's opera Rigoletto - 1851). All I could think about while playing the song was "no, I'm good. The fickle female in my house is my cat". My short-term sleeping arrangement and temporary immobility had sent her into a tail spin. She was told not to climb on me. She hated that. She wasn't allowed to sleep in my room. This was followed by her hissing at Stefano. She hated my crutches. She was annoyed by my "stuff" on her side of the bed. I was invading her spac...

I love good news. I love a happy ending. When God has other plans, my heart is heavy. This weekend I received notification from two Caringbridge posts. One was on a friend who miraculously was living life with no signs of her cancer. A true joy and a blessing. I was so happy for this amazing woman and her family. The second post had the opposite news. This friend is losing her battle with cancer. She is in hospice and dying. A shock. She is young; very young. She was so full of life the last time I saw her. I was at a loss on why God would take her from us. Such a joy on earth. Now I can only pray; knowing we are all human and God has a plan for each one of us. A plan that none of us know. A plan that can be painful and difficult, but can also be joyful and happy. One day at a time. Live each day to the fullest. Two favorite quotes come to mind as I pray for my friends as they continue their journeys. Both of these women exemplify the spirit of these quotes and live by th...

Gifts of flowers in full bloom I woke up to a room full of brightly colored flowers; blooming brilliantly. What a pleasant surprise and a great way to start a day. I really haven't had this much attention since I had babies. In fact I keep thinking back to those days. That's really what this recuperation reminds me of...except no newborn. Lots of people milling around, helping out. Visitors, flowers, and phone calls. Forgetting the time of the day, but with the days flying by quickly with me wondering what I really accomplished. Instead of waking up to a newborn to be nursed, it's pain pills at the wee hours and ice bags. It is funny how we completely forget about periods in our life and then later incidences bring them front and center. For me, my room full of flowers and my delicate condition (which like the childbearing days, really is not that delicate) so remind be of the baby years. The timing of my boys' April births and this March date is probably another ...

Compression icing at PT The advice I've been told over and over with my injury is the importance of PT, PT, and more PT. Today was my first physical therapy appointment. With it, I feel nothing short of on my way to recovery and back to sport. A good day. I look forward to the day when this is all in my past as I run the trails again and climb steps, free of crutches. I am good with one day at a time. Somethings can't be hurried; like healing and rehab. Good things come to those who wait, right? So I will wait. And as I wait, I will follow my PT exercises like a good student, drink my water, and ice my knee. The last thing I want to do is re-injure and start over. This is God's way of testing my patience, I am sure (since I wasn't born with this gene). So back to my new normal....taking it easy, every day a little better than the last, and staying the course. And, Mom, I PROMISE to listen the the doctors and physical therapists. It's a marathon and not a spr...

a favorite suit from the 80's (of note...off-white hose, navy pumps and bold gold jewelry) My first true accounting internship (one that required a suit) was with LeMars Mutual Insurance Company. When I was notified of this paid internship, I was thrilled. The excitement of the job was high with great anticipation of what I thought a corporate accounting internship entailed. I quickly found out that the job description was less than glamorous. LeMars Mutual had just purchased a smaller insurance company. My job was to take the files of the purchased company and incorporate them into the filing system of LeMars Mutual. In modern day, this would be classified as a mass scanning project. No debits or credits and definitely not up to the executive level of my newly purchased suits. Regardless of the the task, I decided to give it my all. Perhaps if I showed the effort, I would get asked to go to the upper floor where accounting and VP's were officed. So I rolled up my slee...

Ben and Grant happy with their latest trade I tell my kids I have gaming skills. Obviously this is a joke. The few times they did hand me their controllers, it was only a matter of seconds before my guy died or I was defeated. Since I am never quite sure the goals of these various video games, I'm not quite sure how I lost. But definitely a loser; that's me. I get the "seriously, Mom" look frequently when I call their PS2 a DS4, SuperDuper NintendoHD or XGameIV. There are way too many numbers and initials involved with these gaming systems that don't seem to ever be compatible. Sure seems like a scam from an outsider looking in. Just when they have everything for one system, a new "gotta have it" game comes out for a different one. The latest rage for my gamer children is trading in old games for new or new for old; depending on their preference of the day. Game Stop knows them well. Today they were thrilled to come home with a "vintage...

Perfect place for my computer Garrett just called to check in on me. "Do you wish you had a TV in your room?" he asked. After over 24 hours confined to my upstairs quarters, this thought had never crossed my mind. TV? That's right...I am supposed to be watching continuous television. That's what you do when bed-bound. Hmmm...am I missing the boat? As you can see in this picture, my bedroom hutch holds only my color printer and office supplies. There was a television there once, but I never watched it. Never. The wasted use of space bothered me. One day I thought I had a brilliant idea and completed my office space with a nearby printer. The TV went to Goodwill. And I've never missed it. Next question "Are you bored?" Hmmm...not at all, actually. I am very comfortable and content. Between meds, exercises and potty breaks; I am reading, writing and listening to a little Pandora radio (Les Miserable is the running favorite). As I occupy the right s...

post-surgery smile (relief??) I've never had surgery before. This unbroken record hasn't even been a thought until now. After being asked this question over and over during the pre-screening process, I am feeling like the exception. And to be honest, I'm feeling pretty darn lucky. "No surgery?" is the typical response to my answer of "no" followed by my reaffirmation of "none". Based on feedback from the clinicians, this is more rare than not for a forty-five year-old active woman. No C-sections, appendices removal , broken bones or bad gallbladders for me. I am lucky. Being a novice, there was some minimal apprehension last night. No anxiety, but a desire to just get it over with. The last life event that mirrored these feelings was on April 13, 2000; the night before the scheduled birth of Grant. As a purchase of crutches and removal of nail polish bogged my to-do list last night; thirteen years ago it was coordination of older boys bac...

Summer of 1979 (my grandparents with Aunt Kathy in back) (Matt, cousin Andrew, me in front) My grandma loved the Pope. She loved everything about the Pope. She would have been glued to the TV watching every moment of the Vatican events of recent days. CNN would have been her best friend and the Internet a welcomed accompaniment to her Papal selection research. The white smoke, no doubt, would have created a furor for her if she were still alive and living on the farm. I know this to be true because my brother and I were eye witnesses to her wonderment of Pope John Paul II in 1979. She was in a state of grace that day the beloved pope visited Des Moines, Iowa. It felt like nothing short of a miracle that this leader to billions of devout Catholics would travel to our little rural state on his first trip to the US. The trip was initiated by a fellow Iowa farmer who wrote a handwritten letter to the pontiff. The writer, Joe Hays, shared many commonalities with m...

Great minds discuss ideas; Average minds discuss events; Small minds discuss people. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt Today was my haircut/color day. The day set aside to get rid of my looming gray stragglers. And I always look forward to this day. The conversation incurred over this time allotted for my hair procedures is put to good use. Amy and I discuss ideas and life. From it I feel like a greater person. Does anyone actually feel better after discussing people? Not typically, I would suspect. They probably do feel smaller. From raising kids to faith and big life decisions, we talk it through. Amy always looks for the positive while being self-critical when fairly due. We challenge each other to be objective and forward thinking. Learn from your mistakes. Do the right thing for all involved. Know there is a power much greater than yourself. Acknowledge that you're only human. And think outside the box once in a while. Yep, I got a new hairdo and am very happy with it....

Snow, snow...go away... We went to bed in a thunderstorm and woke up to a snowstorm. I should have assumed this was a possibility, but I didn't. On Saturday I had visions of front porch spring pots dancing in my head. I wondered how my tulips would look surrounding my house with my backyard additions. I didn't have a clue that there was a bit of destiny behind my not taking the snowflakes off my front display. The irony is that this snowstorm was much more of a hit than the big over-inflated want-to-be-storm from a couple of weeks ago. The St. Louis travelers are stuck in Kansas City and Garrett and I are a bit worried over his flight this morning. We shall see. I am feeling bullish in not scooping my walks. I'm banking on some warm sunshine to do the job for me. St. Patty's Day...bullish again. I foresee us all outside in our short sleeves, sipping on green beer with this little snow dump a distant memory. We should just label this little weather event as a tem...

Flat Sandy enjoying post-game beers with Robbie (her creator) and Kelly A random act of kindness. Sometimes quiet, sometimes subtle, and sometimes just plain fun. Robbie's Flat Sandy adventure gave me a huge smile. The exploits of this "fun Sandy" felt like warm hug from miles away. And it was just what the doctor ordered. For those unfamiliar with us crazy Creighton Bluejays fans, we love our team and we love to follow them to the grand finale of the season; the Missouri Valley Conference Tournament. Although basketball is the focal point, it really is one big party in St. Louis. Many fun memories have been made in that city each year in early March. 2009 had brought some unexpected twists in my life and Robbie was right by my side, helping me get through. She had the astute ability to make even the most difficult situations easier with a smile and a laugh. Lending an ear to listen and giving sensible feedback was Robbie's secret sauce. She and Russ compl...

My mom In my mom's typical words of wisdom, she gave me encouragement on my recent anxiety episodes (described in my MRI blog from a couple of days ago). She shared a story of her own anxiety when I was fifteen and hospitalized for over a week with pneumonia. Mom's words describing this event in our lives were heart-wrenching to read. I really had no idea how difficult this was for her. As an adult and parent myself, I now completely understand. Reading her words brought an unexpected mist to my eyes and a lump in my throat. "You described it perfectly in your blog. Do you agree that it's hard to understand (anxiety) until we experience it? Be strong, be strong...those were the words (my friend and co-worker) spoke to me as she stroked my back. You'd been in the hospital for over a week with pneumonia and still wasn't getting better. You weren't responding to the typical drugs used to treat pneumonia. The doctor changed your meds and the very next d...

A quiet morning of oatmeal, SB and a little e-mail  Other than Garrett being in town, I don't think I would have a clue that it's Friday. My days seem to gel together as of late. I'm okay with that, but it sure makes the close of the week a welcomed surprise. Once I realized it truly was Friday, I looked ahead at the weekend. Nothing on the calendar. Nothing. The Irish returned to Ireland and work can now wait until Monday. A needed break. And Garrett's in town. This means we can sleep in and plan our days on a whim. Whatever the feeling of the moment...a movie, an errand, the gym...we can respond. We often say our weekends together (the quiet ones) have the feel of retired couple. We have been known to hit movies before noon for the discount and often lose track of the time of the day. My retired parents tell me they rarely look at the clock. Why? It doesn't matter. They set their own schedule. The crackle of the fire place, leftovers beckoning us from th...

I got through my MRI. And after the fact, I must admit that the test caused me anxiety. More anxiety than my upcoming surgery. Anxiety isn't a common feeling for me, so my anxiety caused me to be even more anxious. So basically I was anxious over being anxious.Try to figure that one out. It is an interesting study in human nature what brings on these little episodes. I have never had fear of being in small spaces before. My triggering event was the "body bag" rescue from my ski accident. Per Garrett, I turned completely white when they tied me tightly into the sled. Once my panic was noticed and hands released, my color came back and anxiety went away. But I found this to be short-lived. Boarding an airplane back from New York, we found ourselves on a puddle jumper. On top of the small plane being overly warm, the ceilings were low and felt suffocating to me. As I sat in my window seat feeling anxious, I began psychoanalyzing my current state of mind. "Seri...

My awesome piano teacher, Sandy Nabel I take piano lessons. Although this is my second time around (I took seven years as a child), they are much more enjoyable as an adult. My teacher is Sandy Nabel. She is one of the kindest, most patient persons I have ever met. All three of my boys took years of lessons from Sandy. Grant asked me to join in the fun several years ago. The boys have since moved on and now it is down to just me. And I really like it. People constantly ask me where I find the time for all of these things I do...piano, blogging, kids, career, travel. Well, I am organized. But I am also greedy with my time. I spend my spare time only on things (and with people) I really enjoy. My main time is occupied with those things that drive me...kids, boyfriend, work, and my circle of family and friends. In my spare time you would never find me watching television or playing IPad games. I'm not judging anyone else, but this isn't how I like to spend the extra hours ...

Unfinished projects come in all shapes and sizes. For my mom it was an unfinished sewing project. A blouse that needed a hem and buttons, but put to the side. Or a coat that needed a final fitting and a zipper. The reason for lack of execution would vary from the wrong season (what's the hurry?) to another priority that came up ahead of it (less fun projects like uniform hemming and patches on jeans). For others an unfinished project could be the book that was started but never finished or the room design found on Pinterest that lacks the final borders and stucco finish. For me an unfinished project is a blog in draft; a story not completely written that sits in my draft box just waiting for me to push the publish button. That's where some of my stories come from. A forgotten draft that has suddenly come back to life. People ask how I find time to blog or if I have suffered from writer's block. Not really. When a thought or story strikes me, I hold on to it. Most ti...

Jay is the handsome dude in the back (wired glassed, feathered hair and no shirt) Cindy and I did enjoy a bit of wine on our mom/sons trip to Chicago. Do note that this guilty indulgence is saved for special occasions like these, so no worries on our overall state of mind. The boys were safe and in good hands. The particular story I have to tell isn't centered around Cindy or our quest to solve the word's problems over a good bottle of wine. It is about my first wine lunch in 1983 with my Uncle Jay. Note that I was sixteen when this event happened. Although I was quite shocked at the pleasantries surrounding the invitation to join him for a glass of vino, I later found the whole adult-ish experience captivating and wonderful (obviously some danger lights were going off early on). Now let me describe my Uncle Jay. He was one cool cat. The forever bachelor who rode a motorcycle in cut-off jean shorts. His hang-out was Beer City and women LOVED him. He had a quiet air th...

The Chicago Crew less Stefano Since a picture is worth a thousand words, I will let this snap (along with the various I posted on FB over the weekend) do most of the talking. My summary of our weekend in Chicago: Boys are fun....happy to be a mom tagging along Sporting events are great fun...and even better when beer is served Chicago people are warm and inviting...they liked us even better when we wore Blackhawks gear Some friends travel better than others...every mom needs to bring her own play date on a trip Wine lunches...a must (foreshadowing of my blog tomorrow)... Thank-you, Chicago. Good times and great memories :)

With Zach in 1993. My left ACL in better days. I miss my ACL. And I am going to miss my runs. This morning was the first time these longing thoughts hit me like a two-by-four. My travel and running buddy, Cindy, went out for a run along Lakeshore Drive this morning. I was back in my hotel room icing my knee. A cousin e-mailed me asking for my thoughts on a baby runner purchase. <sigh>. Other than the end of my pregnancies, have I ever been out of commission and not enjoying this much needed running therapy? Nope. So, in order to make me feel better (other than the forthcoming wine over lunch with Cindy), I will share a little running nostalgia. The question on baby runner choice sure gave me a smile. It got me into the bowels of an old blog post on my use of that previously owned contraption. The story is as follows... My parents bought me one of the best presents (or better phrased...most used present) I ever received:  a baby runner as a Mother's Day gift in 1993....

The crowd at the United Center...phenomenal "...by the dawn's early light..." We had an unexpected surprise tonight. I'm not referring to the exciting overtime win by the Blackhawks or the simple fact that they are actually playing (post-lock-out). It was the game opening singing and crowd participation of the National Anthem that took me aback. I have never experienced anything like it. Not on Husker Saturdays with the best fly overs. Not at any sporting or national activity that I have attended. The energy of the singer and the emotion of the crowd was unexpected and hugely heartwarming. They were roaring and clapping with every word as though they had just won the Stanley Cup. Cindy and I just turned to each other as it concluded, a bit teary-eyed and awe struck, and mouthed "wow". We looked over at the boys and saw that their reaction mirrored ours. This patriotic start to the game brought a unified joy to the 20,000 spectators in the United C...