That's my story...and I'm stickin' to it!

I have been helping an organization called Women for Women International.
I've been matched with an 18 year old woman in Kosova, and have started writing letters to her, letting her know that I am committed to sending her letters and gifts and cold, hard cash on a regular basis.
The cash makes a huge difference for her and her family who live with very little money and sporadic jobs, a dreadful situation left over from the fighting in the war-torn country where she was born.

Here's some very good information about this organization. Caroline Kennedy has written a feature article about the founder, Zainab Salbi. In the TIME Magazine May 1, 2008 issue, you'll find this great story. Here's the link...
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1736706,00.html?roi=echo3-2332533512-2081367-fb7f55b01c22a5918713aa8ca2ae43c5&

"Women for Women International and its founder and CEO Zainab Salbi were featured in an article by Caroline Kennedy in the latest issue of Time Magazine. Kennedy highlights how the most urgent tasks involved in rebuilding a post-conflict society fall to women."

Zainab Salbi, Women for Women International Founder and CEO, is a remarkable woman with a remarkable story. Read this and see if you don't agree with me.

Caroline Kennedy writes, "As Mother's Day approaches, it's worth remembering that of the more than 35 million people displaced by conflict... the vast majority are women and children."
So, for this Mother's Day, I'm going to help some moms in other parts of the world...my mom passed away a year and a half ago, and Mother's Day is always a sad and grieving day for me. Maybe this will ease that somewhat for me, and more importantly, I hope it gives some other moms a better life.
https://secure.entango.com/donate/WFW_MDgifts2008?roi=echo3-2332533512-2081368-f60b674d0390951e9739b7d203580794&wfw=MDGIV08Media
Here's their website...
http://www.womenforwomen.org/
"A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie." ~ Tenneva Jordan

Naps.
Little sleeps in the afternoon, around 1:30 P.M.
My grandmother was a great believer in naps.
Right after lunch, she'd clean up the lunch dishes and put away the leftover food, wipe the table and the counter clear of crumbs, sweep the floor and then head towards her bedroom.

Behind the closed bedroom door, she removed her fine daytime hairnet, replaced it with a sturdy heavy-duty night-time hairnet, lowered the window-blind, wrapped herself in her plaid wool laprobe and sitting on her bed, she'd gently lower herself to the mattress, relaxing in the very center of her 3/4 bed.

After closing her eyes, she would always raise her right arm and cover her eyes with her forearm to shut out the remaining light in her bedroom.

At exactly 3:00 P.M., my grandmother would wake up, get out of her cozy nest of bed-and-blanket, remove her sturdy heavy-duty night-time hairnet, replacing it with her fine daytime hairnet, raise the window-blind, straighten her bed coverings and open the bedroom door.

Straight to the sink, filling her old aluminum tea kettle to the brim with fresh-drawn cold water, she would set the kettle to boil on the old round-cornered Monarch stove. As she waited for the water to reach tea-temperature, she would fill a small china plate with her home-made date turnovers from the old green and white checkered cookie tin, choose her favorite china cup and saucer that her sister, Edna, had given her years ago and place everything on the kitchen table.

When the water threatened to bubble up and escape through the crooked spout of the kettle, she would rescue it from the heat very quickly, pour the boiling water over the heaping of tea leaves in her old brown china teapot, then set the pot on the trivet in the center of the kitchen table.

While the tea steeped, she walked to the refrigerator, opened the door and brought out the fresh cream skimmed from the morning's milking. Taking it to the table, pouring a fresh cup of hot, strong Lipton's tea into her china cup and stirring in a couple of spoonfuls of thick sweet cream, she picked out the fattest and chubbiest date turnover, placed it squarely in the center of another of her little china plates and was then ready for her daily ritual of an after-nap afternoon cup of tea.

Today, knowing my grandmother's penchant for sweets and anything sugary, I often wonder if her nap was a way for her to justify her petite pig-out afterwards. After a nap, a girl needs nourishment, after all!

More than likely, it was her way to escape from the world for a short while each day. Time just for her, without interruption and without fail. My grandmother really knew what she was doing, I think. Especially with the date turnovers...

“You do not really understand something unless you can explain it to your grandmother.” ~ Unknown

I hate ice.
Snow and ice.
Rain, when it falls on the snow, and freezes the whole damned mess onto the pavement in front of my home.

It snowed here last week, a late-in-the-year snowfall to remind us that we do live in a 4-season climate.

Getting out of my car in front of my home after work on Thursday, I slipped and fell down hard on a sheet of ice and snow on the street.

As I slammed down onto the ice-coated pavement, my right foot caught on an ice edge, twisted inwards sharply...the pain was instantaneous.
That nausea-inducing pain immediately followed the loud snap that I heard at the same instant my foot turned inward and collapsed under the force of my weight!

Luckily, two of my friends were at my home, shoveling the snow off my driveway, and they rushed to help me. They also slipped and fell on the icy street, and finally we managed to stand upright, together.
I slipped and fell...again.

The doctor, nursing staff and x-ray tech were fantastic.
After x-rays, my doctor gave me the happy news that there were no broken bones.
"Good bones, Brenda! You have GOOD bones!", the medical staff exclaimed, again and again.

Rather than a break, I had severely sprained my ankle, causing major damage to the tendons and ligaments, as well as a gigantic amount of internal bleeding and bruising.

My doctor sent me home with a cast on my right leg, from my toes to my knee...my first cast ever.

"The fleas of life ~ you know, colds, hangovers, bills, sprained ankles and little nuisances of one sort or another.” ~ William Styron

An award should go to the gate attendant at a small airport some 12 months ago for being smart and funny, while making her point when confronted with a passenger who probably deserved to fly in the cargo bay.

A crowded flight was canceled after one of the airline's flights had been withdrawn from service.
A single attendant was re-booking a long line of inconvenienced travelers. Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way to the desk.
He slapped his ticket down on the counter and said,
"I HAVE to be on this flight and it HAS to be in FIRST CLASS."

The attendant replied, "I'm sorry, sir. I'll be happy to try to help you, but I've got to help these people first, and I'm sure we'll be able to work something out."

The passenger was unimpressed.
He asked loudly, so that the passengers behind him could hear,
"Do you have ANY idea who I AM?"

Without hesitating, the attendant smiled, then grabbed her public address microphone:
"May I have your attention please! May I have your attention please!" she began, her voice heard clearly throughout the terminal. "We have a passenger here at Gate 14 who does not know who he is! If anyone can help him find his identity, please come to Gate 14."

With the folks behind him in line laughing hysterically, the man glared at the attendant, gritted his teeth and said, "F*** you!"

Without flinching, she smiled and replied, "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to get in line for that, too."

"There are only two emotions in a plane...boredom and terror." ~ Orson Welles

You will remember this story of The Wooden Bowl tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now. A lovely story that reminds us all of our own fragility...

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson.
The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered.
The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and
failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor.
When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.

The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess.
'We must do something about father,' said the son.
'I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.'

So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner.
There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner.
Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.
When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.

The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor.
He asked the child sweetly, 'What are you making?'

Just as sweetly, the boy responded, 'Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.

The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.
The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless.
Then tears started to stream down their cheeks.
Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table.

For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

" Be extremely kind to the elderly, the sick and the very young, because you'll be each of these at some time in your life."