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With glass in hand, I have watched many a blazing sun drop into the western horizon. Sip and look. Sip and think. Sip and gaze, ponder, and observe. Sip and remember. I go back in time and bring exceptional moments into the swirl of wine and a vivid ball of fire as it seemingly drops into nothingness. Wine stimulates all kinds of thought and memory. Coupled with the beauty of creation, these thoughts deepen and clarity is found.

This evening, I am remembering the life of a loved one, a woman who has endured, and given a great deal to others. As a child she was an exceptional friend to me, to all. As an adult, her great love of God, family and flowers has brought enchantment, and an outstanding example to everyone. This joyful lady has loved God and honored Him. She has cherished deeply family and the human race; and when trouble has bounded and dredged her life, she has lived out her agony peacefully growing beautiful flowers in an exceptional garden. What is amazing is that she doesn’t even know how we view her. C.S. Lewis

In the town where I grew up… a little town in Colorado called La Junta… there was a music store named McKenzie’s Music. One of my favorite things to do was to walk down to this store and go in, and look at all of the pianos that Mr. McKenzie had to sell. Of course I loved the grand pianos the best.

I was blessed to have a nice spinet piano, which one of my grandmothers bought for my family. I took lessons on that piano from age six, until I left for college. And while I valued that little spinet, I always dreamed of having a grand piano one day. I never thought I would ever really have my own piano, much less a grand.

But I ended up with a piano shortly after I was married. Hubby picked one out for me and had it moved into our little apartment. It was a little metro-grand upright. This was the piano on which, for years I taught children and adults to play. Enter my sister-in-law who was having a little space problem in her new apartment. “How would you

I remember many things about my mother’s kitchen. It was so clean you could have eaten off of the floor. It had a pantry that was always well stocked. No matter where she lived, there was always something yellow in it and many things that came from the Mexican heritage. (She LOVED Mexican food, and people and things!) But mostly, I remember the cookie jar, Dumbo the Flying Elephant, who was always full of some kind of homemade cookie!

In the beginning, Dumbo looked exactly like the cute little gray Dumbo in the Disney movie. As the years wore on , the color wore off of Dumbo. And, most of my life he looked as he does now. Off white everywhere but still recognizable.

He is a two-sided Dumbo… one side shows Dumbo with the feather in his mouth; the other side shows him without it. I use to imagine that story as a child, and say to myself that the feather was love… someone wanting to help Dumbo find his place in the world for the unusual individual that he was. The side without the feather? That was Dumbo

It used to be that people wrote letters on paper to one another. Soldiers wrote home to family and girlfriends. Girlfriends wrote back to boyfriends. Grandchildren jotted thank you notes to their grandparents. Many have saved those letters over the years and for one reason or another, we would go back and re-read the letters again and again.

In my desk drawer are all the letters that my beloved brother wrote to me. They are kept in a light green leather-like box. When I open the box, I see his handwriting with its many flourishes and in some small fashion, this brings him back to me. His words, like “Sis… of all people, you and I know and understand each other best of all.” I did know him best. He is in heaven now, and has been for many years. And Tommy knew me. So when he says those words, I know exactly what they mean. They mean, “like old times, Sis, when we could finish the sentences of one another, and loved each other with our whole hearts.” I can touch the stationery and almost feel

It was not just cold, it was damn cold! I know I know… it snowed in the Rockies. Well, they haven’t been living in triple digit heat for months. We Arizonans have. So I’m saying, “Brrrrrr!”

And I’m talking about swimming in it! I like cold but swimming in 50 degree temperature? “That’s cold,” I’m thinking, “to swim.” I decided to wait maybe two hours.

Now it’s 54 degrees. Can’t put it off any longer. Into the car and off I go to the community pool.

As I entered the center and had my entrance card scanned, I could see the beautiful Olympic sized pool to the left outside. One guy in a suit and goggles occupies one of the nine or so lanes. The clerk who scans my card is commenting on my going swimming… She thinks I’m nuts to go out there much less to get into the water. I’m saying to myself, “Don’t think, just go do it.”

I chose a lane and dump my bag. I strip down to my suit. Brrrrrrr! There’s a wind. Nice! Not! I get into

Things that sit on some of our noses. Those things that, as children, earned us the nickname of “four eyes.” Spectacles. Yep, I’m talking about specs!

If I sound terse it’s because I have lost my glasses for the ump-teenth time. Yet again, I find myself running around the house trying to find the hiding place… the spot where while I was multi-tasking or shoved so far into my head thinking, I took them off and absentmindedly left them to lie in waiting. (And how am I able to see to write this? I’m wearing my back-up pair and my old prescription.) Argh! Glasses. The joy of my life and the bain of it.

And yes, I once had wonderful vision… until fourth grade when a Rocky Ford optometrist told my parents that I needed them. I still recall picking out those first frames. I must have fawned over 30 or 40 pair before I chose one. You’d have thought these were my shoes for the prom! I recall thinking I looked pretty good in them… Well… I thought that until I stuck them on my face

Every woman who has ever loved a man is familiar with The Cave. It is that place where all men go when they don’t know what to do with the women in their lives. This is where they can hide out with the remote in one hand and a beverage in the other (or some version of same). They know what to do with this! It’s familiar! And more than this, it’s comfortable. Having lived much of my life with five men (Hubby and four sons) I have had a steady diet of The Cave.

When it first showed up in my life, I was frantic to get them to come out. “What have I done?” and, “How can I help?” or, “Can we talk about it?” But The Cave is so comfortable. They just sit there and what? Eat! Watch Sports! Read! You are standing or sitting right there and it’s as if you aren’t even in the room. And when they leave, and don’t say goodbye, or won’t talk and communicate, well… that’s just flat out painful; and they don’t even know this because they’re

We live in a country where the clothes we put on our backs are so prevalent, that we have an entire industry dedicated to it. This industry makes a pile of money every year off of our decisions. What should I wear? Does this make me look fat? Is this color good next to my face? Does that make me look fat? Shall I dress for fad or go for the sophisticated look? And, again, does this make me look fat?

Wives all cross this country buy more clothes every year while their husbands mourn the loss of closet space. And we’re not talking just clothes… we’re also talking shoes, handbags, scarves, hats, gloves, coats. And then there’s the jewelry!

The very fact that we can make a choice in garments is exceedingly heady to me when there are so many across the globe that have nothing. So, I decided to clean out my closet and give away a lot of clothes and accessories. I went into my closet and took a look. And holy cats! I have a lot of stuff! I don’t need anything

Shakespeare said, “What’s in a name?” At 5:00 in the morning I’m wondering about it too. Do you know what your name means? Mine, I’ve been told, means “noble woman.” I’ve often wondered if my parents really knew what they were doing when they stuck that handle on me… it is a lot to live up to! So in naming my children, plenty of thought went into the process.

Torrence: This is my husband’s mother’s maiden name. It is also a Teutonic name and it means “tender heart.” I believe that Tory thinks he’s been stuck with everyone else’s name instead of his own (his middle name is my grandmother’s maiden name). But the “tender heart” part has rung true with him. Example: He and number two bro were very small and I had decided to take them to see a children’s cartoon movie. It was near the end of the flick and one of the beloved dogs in the film had been injured and was dying… Number two bro was chomping on popcorn just watching to see what would happen next; and Tory looked in my face

At this time of year, many in the United States are all aglow with Halloween and the joy of children and adults alike dressing up as someone they are not. We revisit scaring the living daylights out of one another. We may even decorate our yards with spooks and goblins. But most of all we revisit the joy of candy!

Tonight I needed to run down to the neighbor’s house to fulfill a promise. I entered their home to the smiles and enthusiasm of their three children. They are delightful… I love them as if they were my own! But let me tell ya… the biggest kid in the house is their dad!

This is a man who is president of the “Back to School Clothing Drive” (one of the largest, oldest and most successful nonprofits in the greater Phoenix area). He was super involved in his very large TV screen watching a football game… curled up on the sofa in shorts and tee shirt with bare feet. Now this doesn’t sound too much like a kid, I agree. That didn’t happen until his wife hauled out a cardboard box that