the things we do for love...

...neither of my grandchildren are allowed sweet treats.  Well, let me rephrase that.  They are allowed treats but in very limited amounts, not that they have allergies or illness that prevents them from enjoying but because they have parents that prevent them/me from enjoying!  Really cuts down on the 'grandma' traditions a Christmas, no baking with the babies and no Easter baskets or any other sweet treat holiday...not even birthdays.  Aw, well, one must respect the wishes of the parents and not get one in too much trouble.  So when I saw this idea on FB I decided to give it a whirl for Easter tea.  It looks so pretty and the kiddos love their fruit and how can a tiny bit of chocolate be bad right?

 I bought sugar-free ice-cream cones and dipped them in magic shell chocolate.  I dipped a few times before I got a good coating on them.  After letting that set I filled them with fruit.  We used grapes, pineapple and blueberries.  The topped with yogurt.  Perfect treat for little hands. 

Well, aside from my grandson no one ate them, not.at.all.  And you know what he did with his???  Put it on top of his little head like a clown hat, chocolate and all!  Gotta love that one.  See?  I'm pretty sure a bunny would have worked out better!

the lion and the lamb...

Happy and Blessed Easter/ Passover to all my family and friends...

bing images

Today we remember the lamb. The sacrifice. Pure. Clean. Willing, not forced. Mocked, yet focused. Accused, yet silent. Finished. Sunday morning, we celebrate the Lion. Conqueror. Overcoming One. Triumphant. King. Happy Resurrection Weekend!

(the white chair)

in this room (1996)...

March 30, 1996
In this room, eleven floors up, I can see the city skyline and view of Puget Sound, the deep blue water as the sun sets on a beautiful Spring day.
in this room, where the windows don't open I can hear the muffled sounds of the city, life humming at a frantic speed.
In this room, there are deafening noises, muffled breaths, silent voices.
In this room, where death patiently waits and miracles hover in the wings.
In this room, lies a small, frail woman of about seventy years.  Her red hair now mostly white.  Her beautiful peaches and cream skin thin as tissue paper.  Her fiery green eyes closed, no expression at all.
In this room, lies my mother.
The first woman in my life, the one who nurtured me, held me up, watched me grow.  The one who was my best friend, who called me most days and would send the dogs out looking for me if I was late.  The one who boldly stood at my side as the doctors told me my son had died, who defied the nurses to see him and baptize him. The one, the strong one, the one who knew 'everything,' the one I needed now more than ever before.  The one.
In this room, I stood holding her hands, praying her prayers, calling her name.  
In this room, I watched her last breath.
In this room where so many lives have hung in the balance I said good-bye.
In this room I stood alone and cried. 

 In memory of my mother Therese who left this earth 19 years ago, leaving me with an empty space that can never be filled again.  There hasn't been a day that I haven't wondered how I could get through this life without her in it and now suddenly it's been 19 years.  I hope I've done it well.


 Sometimes the most painful chapters of our lives —- are the most meaningful chapters of our lives.

Rejoice...

~~The resurrection gives my life meaning and direction and the opportunity to start over no matter what my circumstances.  ~Robert Flatt~

Three Days...

may your Easter weekend

be filled

with growth and renewal,

the warm Sun,

Nature awakening to Spring,

Chocolate bunnies and speckled eggs.

May the sounds of

love and laughter

fill your heart and your day.

It is time to

celebrate!

Easter Blessings

my sweet friends.

Sunday Serenity...

"hallelujah"