Definition

~ Denise ~ 6 Comments

Hey

Do I have your attention?

The first definition of hey is getting someone’s attention or expressing surprise,  anger or showing your annoyed.

Hey, John!  Come here a minute!

Hey!  Watch where you’re going!

The second definition of hey is hello.

Hey, Sue.  How are you?

The South is where I first learned how the second definition is truly used.

In the South, hey is  hello, hi, and how’s it going.  (Even though in my mind “How’s it going?” will always be associated with a certain  N’Awlins transplant.)

The first time I heard the expression was when we moved here for the second time in 1994.

I was walking down the hallway of the Realtor’s office with the boys in tow, and I heard a woman behind me saying “hey”.  She kept saying “Hey…Hey!”

I was like, “gees, I’m hurrying as fast as I can, pleeeese lady, give me a break”.  (This was in my head of course; you know, children with, trying to set an example and all that, however, we did have a big laugh and discussion about it later so….never mind).   The first chance I had to move out of her way I did and turned around, to which she looked at me and said “Hey, I’m so and so”.  It was then that I realized that “hey” was a greeting.

I guess it was only natural that I would start using the expression.

I don’t remember when I realized the frequency that I used it.

Maybe it was when we traveled to our home state of PA and I said “hey” as a greeting and got that strange look like “what the heck?”

“Hey” had become part of my everyday vocabulary.

Recently, Craig and I had a reason to travel to another part of the country.

I thought about it when I said hello to people who greeted me.

I said hello, or hi.  I tried not to just say hey.

I didn’t want to stand out too much, “don’t you know”.

Reflecting

~ Denise ~ 4 Comments

Something is the matter with the mirrors in my home.

I mean they are “reflecting” and all.  It’s just there is something freaky going on.

What they are reflecting to me and apparently what everyone else sees are two different things.

How do I know this?

Well, I tried to take a picture by looking in our bathroom mirror on my phone.

Don’t ask me why.

Okay, inquiring minds are asking.

Fine, I’ll tell you.

Apparently it is the “thing” to do on Facebook, so I thought I would try it and send a sweet Valentine picture to my hubby’s phone.

The resulting picture looked nothing like what I was seeing in the mirror.

I saw a younger version of my Grandmother, or what I’d like to think my Mother would have looked like if she would have lived to be my age.

I’ve heard before that a camera will add ten pounds.

Isn’t that special?

I think camera phones add twenty pounds and twenty years.  You know, they packed a lot of apps in that small packaging.

Brain Sprain?

~ Denise ~ 2 Comments

Yesterday while getting dressed, I thought I had a particularly brilliant moment in the “writing” compartment of my brain.

Yes, I just said it.

The words just started forming in my head and I stopped what I was doing and ran to get paper before I forgot what I was thinking.

Well, that does happen to me.  The forgetting what I’m thinking when I go to write.

It’s either that or I get stuck on something and can’t get it out of my head.

So today I stood there with great anticipation.

I got nothing.  Or as I said in my head “nuthin”

I must have sprained my brain yesterday.

Wardrobe Discussion

~ Denise ~ 5 Comments

I come from a line of tall women.

I like being tall; however, with some things it does have its drawbacks.

What I’m thinking about in particular this morning is wearing and buying slacks.

Now, my past generation of tall family women for the most part wore dresses.  They also made their own clothing.

I stopped wearing dresses and skirts for the most part when I stopped working full-time a few years ago, and I haven’t made me something to wear since the 80’s.  I don’t currently have any plans to start making myself clothing.  What I like and what I can produce are two entirely different things!

Buying women’s slacks, or as I say, pants can be a challenge.  Most local stores do not carry tall selections.  So you are left to either wear your own version of “petal pushers” or order online.  Ordering online can be time-consuming and costly.  First you don’t reap the benefits of trying on the item to make sure you like how it looks, so then if you order it and don’t like it you have the  hassle and cost of returning what you waited to so patiently for.  So when I find a store that has pants that I like, that fit, and I can order them online in tall, it is a win-win situation.  Trouble is usually then, the cost or how quickly they sell out.  Currently, then I am left with a few choices of pants to choose from when selecting my wardrobe in the morning.

Now, men seem to not have a problem with only a few items to choose  from in their closet.  They also have the ability to wear the same pair of pants over and over and don’t mind if anyone notices, nor do I think many people do.  I stand in front of my pant choices and have them rotated so I remember which day I wore which one.  I don’t think anyone else cares about this, and perhaps no one else even notices…you would have to be a detail person.

Have I mentioned before I’m a detail person?

So this morning deciding on which particular pair of pants that I was going to wear, I was also thinking that I have also shrunk over the years.

I used to be 5’-10”.  Now, if I believe correctly, the last time I was measured at the doctor’s office I was around 5’-9”.  What the heck?

I’ve always liked being tall.  As a matter of fact, there were years (and years) that I wore very high heels.  (Remember platforms?)  Yeah, I wore them.

Now I think I would topple over because of my ankles and wobbly knees.  I still have a few pairs of high heels (3”+), but for the most part a high heel today is anything over 1”.  Now the thrill of unsure knees and swollen feet, a lovely side effect of rheumatoid arthritis are not very conducive to high heels.  (Insert appropriate sarcasm.)

I digress.  Anyway, back to the shrinking.

I think that inch re-distributed itself.

Like around my waist.

I didn’t know my waist was so lonely.  It isn’t like my waist hadn’t picked up a few inches of friends over the years in my opinion and needed another inch.  Guess “waist” needed more company for tea and muffins.

I like muffins, and in particular the tops of the muffins, but do not like “muffin top” on me.  So, if I shrink anymore, I hope that any further re-distribution happens elsewhere.

I also hope I don’t keep shrinking until I get down into the petite section.  That would be a whole other issue entirely.  Ha!  Like that would happen!

Like I said, I like being tall.

Excuse me while I stretch out my cotton sweater a little on the sides.

There, that’s better.

Maybe no one will notice I’m wearing the same tall pants, again.  🙂

Blogging Toddler

~ Denise ~ 1 Comment

Two years.   I can’t believe it has been that long.

Two years since I’ve started blogging.

There is a sort of comfort about writing and releasing it out “into the unknown”.  Most recently I’ve “unplugged” the link to my Facebook page when I publish a post.  I may go back now and then and decide to post one there, however, for the most part they won’t go there.

This seems to go against all the blogging advice for a “better audience”.    I’ve been thinking however, that mostly any family and friends that are interested in what I’m writing already visit this site…and well the other friends I have on Facebook are either not interested or very busy, so why should I continue to clog up their newsfeeds?

My blog has been more personal than my Facebook page.  There is a sort of comfort about writing and releasing it out “into the unknown”.     In some ways that makes no sense, and in another way that makes perfect sense.  Well, at least it does to me.

So, I’ve made the change.

Got some other changes to talk about.

Bear with me on the timing.

Heart Warming Messages

~ Denise ~ 8 Comments

Text messages….Email….Facebook….

All a quick way to stay connected.  I use each one.   I’ve found certain family and friends respond better to certain means of communication.

However, there is something heart warming about “snail mail” pieces.

Something resonates in me about the way the person puts the note together, how they sign it, even if they doodle on it.  All of these things I look at.

Recently we received a sweet note from our Granddaughter.  It is definitely going in the keep box.

Now if you’re wondering have I kept all the cards and letters I’ve received over the years, no, but I have kept some.

There is something heart warming about opening a card or reading a letter from someone dear.

Lately I’ve had to go through some paperwork to be shredded, and found a few cards and letters that got mixed in.

Found a note from my Grandmother after we had a 80th birthday celebration for her.  She tucked the note in an anniversary card to us.  Her birthday party had turned into a sort of family reunion.

When she sent the note, it was special.  I kept it.

But, somewhere in my head I forgot it.  I forgot what she wrote.

I had always kept the loving feeling she conveyed with me, but reading her loving words again, was very special.

That is what is heart warming about reading a letter or card again.  Especially when the person is no longer with you.

What a blessing it was to read again.

A text, email, or Facebook message just doesn’t seem to have the same impact, at least for me.   Don’t misunderstand, I appreciate getting those type of messages from people I care about if that is the way they communicate, it’s just a handwritten note is different.  That is why I keep them.  There is something about finding them, seeing someone’s handwriting that is no longer with you, reading their words, and having them talk to you, again.  Their handwriting, just like their voice, if recorded or saved “speaks” again.

Letter writing and the days of “pen pals” seems long ago.  My kids probably would laugh at the expression “pen pal“.   I however, am not ancient (regardless of what they may think), so it wasn’t that long ago that is just what one did to communicate.  I can remember having various pen pals when I was younger.  I even was much better about letter writing to family and friends.

Ah, but now I’m just as guilty about not writing notes or letters to people.  Even the yearly Christmas cards don’t have all the individualized notes like they used to have on all of them.  I tell myself I’ve cut back because my fingers start to ache, which is true, however, I could plan better and not wait till the last-minute.

I wonder sometimes if other people save these things or think about this stuff, or if I’m just overly sentimental.

Probably the latter.

That’s okay.

I’m going to read my Grandmother’s and Granddaughter’s notes again, before being safely tucked away to read another day.

Notes

Blessings to keep.

I also have a letter to write.  Maybe, just maybe there is someone else who is a little sentimental too.