Ah, the Liebster Award. In the best Jackie Gleason voice doing a Scarlett O'Hara imitation that I can muster, I say, "How sweet it is!" Birgit of BB Creations ,  who I met during the 2014 Blogging from A to Z Challenge , nominated me for the Liebster Award. It is a virtual medal that bloggers present fellow bloggers as recognition for the enjoyment they receive reading the awardees' posts. That's my interpretation of the award. If you're interested in learning more about the Liebster Award, check out this post by Lorraine Reguly at Wording Well . Bloggers can choose to accept or reject the Liebster Award. I accept the award with much gratitude. Thank you very much, Birgit. Like the Oscar and most other awards, a blogger can be nominated several times over. I've been fortunate to be nominated twice. Yaay for me. So much for modesty on my part today. :-) The Rules for Accepting the Liebster Award According to Reguly , the rules vary for the

A few days ago, I met a professional photographer who told me that he never took photos between 10 AM to 4 PM because the lighting is bad then.  I left his gallery with "Never between 10 and 4" embedded in my brain, but still with disbelief. It being nearly 6 PM, I went crazy taking photos. Dang, if there wasn't a magical quality of light in the photos. I truly did not bank on it happening in my photos. So, what does that have to do with my evaluation about the Blogging from A to Z Challenge in April that I completed. Beats me. All I know is that I wanted to use the above photo for this post before I even wrote it. Maybe by the end of the post, the metaphor of taking photos will show itself. This was my second year doing the challenge. I found it more enjoyable than last year. One reason was that I did not link up both my blogs to the challenge, even though I post to the other blog, Take 25 to Hollister , every day. I chose to link up The View from the Top of t

The first, okay, maybe it was the fourth, thing I did this morning before breakfast was write that To Do list. I did finish the mystery I've been reading at breakfast. I diligently stuck with the story although I didn't care for the protagonist who was too much of an insecure whiner. But once I learned who the suspect was, I skimmed through the final scenes. I closed the book and purposely went to complete something else. For about the next two hours, I topped off the Mama's outdoor potted plants with potting soil. It was something I had been thinking about doing for the last two summers. The other week, while the Mama was watering her plants, she mentioned that they needed more soil. "Uh-huh," I said, glancing at them and thinking I need to do that before she got to it. Fortunately, for me, a few days ago, the Husband and I bought three huge bags of potting soil. The Mama requested one, but I bought two extra bags. Not because I was going to add soil to

It was cold and foggy on the day of the club picnic. What better way to get warm than to play touch football.  That day, nearly 40 years ago, was the first time (and the only time ) I've ever played the game. We didn't even play it in girls PE in high school, which now when I look back, I wonder why. We had field hockey (loved those sticks), archery, swimming (my favorite), soccer (hated all that running), folk dancing, tumbling (aw, gee, again!), bowling, and an assortment of other sports, but no touch football. Not even flag football. Again, I wonder why since football was a big deal in my high school. Anyway, I digress. In case, you've forgotten, or are confused, this tale of my rare athleticism happened when I was still a not-so-petite, petite young woman in college. Everyone had traveled an hour or so to a park south of the city. I have no idea anymore where it was, but I do remember the large meadow where we played touch football. Always willing to try almost any

The other week, the Husband and I decided on a five year plan. First five year plan we've ever made about anything, too. The best part about it: We're already in year three. (By the way, did I use that colon punctuation properly?) What is this five year plan? And, how is that related to the photos of our hair? I'm glad you asked. This tale starts in 2010 when the Husband and I decided to go bald. The Husband also chose to shave off his mustache and beard. You can read that story here , if you're interested. In 2011, we shaved off our hair again. In 2012, we wondered how long our hair would get after two years. When 2013 came along, we got used to our messy look and thought about trimming it all once the temperatures got very hot. They never did. So, here we are again at our anniversary of shorn locks. The last time my hair has been this long was in my youth, albeit (oooh, love that transitional word) my hair back then was much, much thicker. The Husband says t