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Homecoming 2017 – Round 2

Homecoming at the kid’s school is a big deal- as in week long, dress up, dress down, mess around, night time events, parades, pep rallies, contests, dances, and on and on. It was exhausting great. Just in time for the official arrival of the holiday season. Now, if only the beaded sweat and 99% humidity would find another city to linger in. Not that I don’t love sweat running down my back as I walk from my car to Publix in the almost-end of October.  Forget it, let’s just skip over Halloween and move right into Thanksgiving, shall we?

HOCO 2017 via grateful simplicity

 

HOCO 2017 via grateful simplicity

HOCO 2017

HOCO 2017 via grateful simplicity

 

HOCO 2017 via grateful simplicity

HOCO 2017 via grateful simplicity

 

 

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Irma Interrupted

I had almost forgotten about much I love Friday nights. The possibilities of the weekend are endless.  Low key, football, fun events, action packed.  Last weekend fell into the action packed category with the introduction of Irma to our beautiful state. Luckily, she was a little less ticked off when she finally arrived in T-town. We were without power but only momentarily compared to our friends in South Florida. Poor Darby and Danya are still without power in Miami/South FL. If you’ve never spent September in Florida – let me tell you, it is anything but Mums and pumpkins. It is hot. Throw some love bugs in there, sweat beads and you’ve got yourself a September day

Today it’s taking it back to the first week of school. Seeing that our interim reports go out next week, you can do the math to see just how far back this dates. Okay, it was last month which is technically right on time for this ol’ blog that has been gathering some serious dust.

Boys will be boys

Boys will be boys

Irma Interrupted via grateful simplicity

 

Irma Interrupted via grateful simplicity

 

And speaking of the first week of school, Kenley’s middle school cheerleading squad ran the pep rally that week to kick off the new school year. Talk about full circle. I wore that same cheerleading uniform over 25 years ago. Ouch!

Irma Interrupted via grateful simplicity

 

 

 

 

Happy Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day should be once a month, in case anyone wants to know what I think on the matter. Bi-weekly preferable.   We are going to spend the day tomorrow on the boat on a little island just off the coast. Hoping for some relaxing, resting, peace (and calm seas).  Aunt Britty and her crew will join us as our mama is away for a bit.

Here is to a wonderful and happy mother’s day to the amazing mama’s in my life.

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Looking back via grateful simplicity

 

 

Reasons to Celebrate via grateful simplicity

 

Welcome to the World, Catie T yler

happy birthday to you via grateful simplicity

 

Goodbye, #GrowingUpOnGlenmoreDrive

 

happy birthday to you via grateful simplicity

 

Over the river and through the woods via grateful simplicity

Claire Ellen via grateful simplicity

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xo

Sylvia Landrum

I had all but given up… keeping up with this ol’ blog. With the arrival of Instagram, snap chat, Insta stories and facebook, a blog seems somewhat antiquated. But then my 13 year old asks me, ‘When are you going to renew your blog?’  to which I ignore. Then my mom, then my other daughter.. And finally, Mr. R who says, ‘just renew it already. You will be sorry if you don’t.’  They are probably right– while these posts are more like ramblings than anything, the intent has remained constant over the past 11 years since inception. Keeping memories for prosperity.

So here we are.

And in light of recent events, it seems more important now than ever.

The last time I posted was on March 21, 2017.

That night, Mom had an impromptu dinner at her house for my never ending birthday.  We had our extended family with usual odd family discussions of bathroom habits, fashion, and on this particular evening– family genealogy.   Mom didn’t even complain about the mess all the little people left behind when I called to thank her.

Everything in our house changed the next day.

Britton was home sick and I had a doctor’s appointment that morning (welcome to 40).  Around lunch time Britton called me asking for Panera for lunch. Feeling guilty that she was home sick for a second day (the girl doesn’t like missing school) had me leave the office once again, telling my co-worker I wouldn’t be more than 20 minutes, to run through the Panera drive through for her chicken noodle soup.  One the way home I saw our yardman at the neighbors house which reminded me I needed to give him a check.  I parked my car, ran quickly inside, put Britton’s Panera bag on the counter, called up to her, and dashed back to Meme’s suite to give her the check for the yardman. She always likes a good task. I immediately knew something was wrong when I walked into her living room. The TV wasn’t on and she was slouched on the couch.  Always one to ‘pop up’ as to not catch her snoozing, Meme would never remain lying at the sound of her French doors clicking opening. As soon as I saw her I knew she was having a stroke.

I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the land line dialing 911- and instructed Britton to call my mom and tell her that I was calling the ambulance.

It turned out to be a catastrophic stroke. She passed away exactly fourteen days later.  Meme would have been 91 on April 19th.  We had reservations at Sea Island, where she has spent the better part of 60 years visiting, to celebrate her birthday.  We are all adjusting to our new normal- my children included.  Everyone mourns different, and has a different mourning maturity. We miss her very much – along with her organic food she would sneak into my pantry, trash bags she liked to stick up on, and the not-so-gentle reminders of, “Garrett did you feed Poochie yet?” everyday. Sylvia was one of a kind and will leave us telling her stories for a long, long time.  My cousin Heather said it best, “…. maybe feeling well and making memories to the very end is life’s ideal path.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Looking back via grateful simplicity

Older than Dirt {tales from a fortieth}

Older than Dirt {tales from a fortieth}

I prefer to think of it as a celebration of twice the twentieth. Also known as, a wrinkle in time. But perhaps most commonly known as, “the fortieth” (I just realized that I can’t spell numbers worth a toot). ‘The Fortieth’ sounds so somber. So… old.  I mean seriously, my parents turned forty. And it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago. My mom had a surprise party for my Dad upstairs (which I’m sure he knew about) and took a rented bus full of friends (the bus, not the friends) to Jacksonville to see the roller-skate musical Starlight Express. It wasn’t that long ago they turned forty, and it sure wasn’t that long ago we crawled down Tennessee Street for celebrating (the official) 21st birthday. Either way, today was a built-up-this-is-suppose-to-be-big fortieth (yes, I had to google the spelling– again). And as it turns out, over the hill is just an ordinary day, doing ordinary things, with extraordinary people. Which is precisely how I like it.

 

There are a few things that may be slightly different, or at least feel that way. Namely weight (6 hours of cardio a week- seriously?!), wacky hormones (sorry, Mr. Robinson), and my skin regime cost me two-fold these days (you’re welcome, Mr. Robinson). In no particular order. Of course. And really, people tend to live much longer now so 40 isn’t over anything— 50 is the new forty. Haven’t your heard? So what’s all the hoopla about anyhow?

PS- If you need me, I’ll be in the fetal position in the corner….

Sb 2017 park

 

Older than Dirt via grateful simplicity