Planter or crib?

I bought some new hanging planters from Aldi’s for $3.99 the other day.   Good deal, yes?

And then in snowed.   In late April.

Somehow the planter ended up in the kitchen with a baby snuggling in the coconut liner.

It totally made my day….a little moment in the midst of a snowy day. 

Written By Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The Plain
Dealer, Cleveland , Ohio


1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick.
Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood.
But the second one is up to you and no one else.

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie.
Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.

35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood.

38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's,we'd grab ours back.

41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

42. The best is yet to come.

43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

44. Yield.

45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."

Real Mothers

I thought this was a sweet e-mail that someone sent to me.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils
are probably in the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy
ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't
come out of carpets.

Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum
just sucked up.

Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?' and get
their answer when a little voice says, 'Because I love you best.'

Real Mothers know that a child's growth is not
measured by height or years or grade...It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother...



4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!

8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole
lot!

12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn't really know
quite everything.

14 YEARS OF AGE - Naturally, Mother doesn't know
that, either.

16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's hopelessly
old-fashioned.

18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out
of date!

25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little
bit about it.

35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get
Mom' s opinion.

45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have
thought about it?

65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with
Mom.



The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she
wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair . The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul ... It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!

You'll laugh out loud at these...

JACK (age 3) was watching his Mom breast-feeding his new baby sister. After a while he asked: "Mom, why have you got two? Is one for hot and one for cold milk?"

MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was. Granny replied she was so old she didn't remember any more. Melanie said, "If you don't remember you must look in the back of your panties.Mine say five to six."

MARC (age 4) was engrossed in a young couple that were hugging and kissing in a restaurant. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked his dad: "Why is he whispering in her mouth?"

CLINTON (age 5) was in his bedroom looking worried. When his Mom asked what was troubling him, he replied, "I don't know what'll happen with this bed when I get married. How will my wife fit in?"

One particular Sunday sermon...
"Dear Lord," the minister began, with arms extended toward heaven and a rapturous look on his upturned face."Without you, we are but dust." He would have continued but at that moment a small girl (who was listening) asked quite audibly in her shrill little girl voice, "Mom, what is butt dust?

No, I havn't lost my mind....not yet anyway

I recently sent a letter to an old friend, using our "secret" way of folding the letter, just for fun. We used it when we were kids, because you know that 13 year olds have so many secrets. We needed privacy from parents and siblings and any stranger that might accidentally find our correspondence. The letter makes NO SENSE at all, unless it's folded correctly. Apparently, it's a successful method to code top secrets. Here's a portion of the letter I got back in response:

Hi Amy,
...I read your note several times and a few parts don't
make sense to me. I am baffled actually. Are you doing ok?
It seemed confusing to me and not like any sort of note you have written in the past. I am sending it back to you, maybe I am missing something? All is well, the dogs are doing great and I am so ready for the nice weather to start... Anyway, I am concerned about your note and I really hope everything is ok.

I laughed and laughed when I got her note in the mail. She obviously thinks I've gone mad. I couldn't believe she forgot that the letter needed to be folded to read the real message. I giggled and hooted for a good hour, then I got quiet and sad. She thinks I've lost my mind, but instead of driving over to my house or calling me, she sent a snail mail letter to inquire about my state of mind.

So I sent another letter that made me seem even crazier than the first letter. Just kidding. I'm not that mean. But it crossed my mind because I was curious if she'd try another method of checking on my sanity. I folded up the original letter and taped it so she can read my intended message and sent it back through the mail. I hope she's relieved and maybe a little embarrassed that she forgot one of our secrets from the good 'ole days.

This story made me teary eyed....

This is a story that got passed along through e-mail. It touched me enough to want to save it somewhere I can find it again.

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in ourneighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall.The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little toreach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mothertalked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived anamazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number andthe correct time. My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while mymother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in thebasement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, butthere seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouth piece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information." "I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?"came the question. "Nobody's home but me," I blubbered. "Are you bleeding?" the voice asked. "No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts." "Can you open the icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice. After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. Shehelped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts. Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called,"Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. Iasked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?" She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better. Another day I was on the telephone and called, "Information Please." "Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked. All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall.

As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding,and kindshe was to have spent her time on a little boy. A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so onthe phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinkingwhat I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please." Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

"Information." I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell mehow to spell fix?" There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now." I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls." I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. "Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally." Three months later I was back in Seattle . A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" she said. "Yes, a very old friend," I answered. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" "Yes." I answered. "Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called." "Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean." I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant. Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Volcanic Chocolate Cake

The Kraft Foods magazine is amazing. I love the ideas, and the easy recipes. And it's free! I flip through it, tearing out things that I think I may be willing to try. Usually I pull out 4 or 5 dessert ideas, and maybe one dinner recipe. Yes, I LOVE DESSERTS! I got this from the most recent issue mailed to me. And there's the magazine photo, which looks fairly appealing.

But really, who likes lemon? I mean, if it's the only thing around I could manage to swallow it down. But if I'm going to bake something, it's got to be chocolate. So, I switched the lemon cake and pudding with chocolate cake and pudding. I baked it and baked it, but it still wasn't done. I left for work and Brian promised to keep an eye on it. Well, after an additional 30 minutes in the oven, it was bubbled up like a balloon and he pulled it out. He sent me a text message: "I don't think it turned out right".

I laughed and laughed when I came home and saw the "cake". The dirty dishes from dinner were all over the place, and toys were strewn across the living room, and STILL, I LAUGHED! It looked like black lava with mountains and valleys and pools of chocolate lava. Brian wouldn't touch it. But Joshua and I ate it up without complaint. Chocolate is chocolate! Any child of mine knows that volcanic chocolate dessert still beats out anything lemon.

I never thought I'd say it, but this is one chocolate recipe headed for the trash.

"Special Napkins"

This story made me smile and giggle. I can remember the mystery behind the "bathroom napkins" too.


The Good Napkins


My mother taught me to read when I was four years old (her first mistake). One day, I was in the bathroom and noticed one of the cabinet doors was ajar. I read the box in the cabinet. I then asked my mother why she was keeping 'napkins' in the bathroom. Didn't they belong in the kitchen?

Not wanting to burden me with unnecessary facts, she told me that those were for "special occasions" (her second mistake). Now fast forward a few months.... It's Thanksgiving Day, and my folks are leaving to pick up my uncle and his wife for dinner. Mom had assignments for all of us while they were gone.

Mine was to set the table.

When they returned, my uncle came in first and immediately burst into laughter. Next came his wife who gasped, then began giggling. Next came my father, who roared with laughter.
Then came Mom, who almost died of embarrassment when she saw each place setting on the table with a "special occasion" Kotex napkin at each plate, with the fork carefully arranged on top. I had even tucked the little tail in so they didn't hang off the edge!!
My mother asked me why I used these and, of course, my response sent the other adults into further fits of laughter. "But, Mom, you said they were for special occasions!!!"

Isn't it easier to just tell the truth?! ????????

Life is too short for drama & petty things,
so kiss slowly, laugh insanely.
Love truly and forgive quickly.