Stop the New Year’s Resolutions

Bad Hair Day

When asked, some folks came up with very different imagative resolutions, clearly thought out ?? Add your resolutions

My First Christmas Adventure with Grandma

I’m enjoying the Christmas emails:

Enjoy. This is truly a nice story.

 I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma.  I was just a kid.  I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb:  “There is no Santa Claus,”  she jeered.  “Even dummies know that!”

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been.   I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me.   I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns.   I knew they were
world-famous, because Grandma said so.   It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm.   Between bites, I told her everything.   She was ready for me. “No Santa Claus!” she snorted.   “Ridiculous! Don’t believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes
me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let’s go.”

“Go?  Go where, Grandma?” I asked.   I hadn’t even finished my second world-famous, cinnamon bun.   “Where” turned out to be Kerby’s General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything.   As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.   That was a bundle
in those days. “Take this money,” she said, “and buy something for someone who needs it. 

I’ll wait for you in the car.”   Then she turned and walked out of Kerby’s.

I was only eight years old.    I’d often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself.   The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.   For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill,
wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

I thought of everybody I knew:   my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.   I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker.   He was a kid with bad breath
and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs.Pollock’s grade-two class.

Bobby Decker didn’t have a coat.   I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter.   His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all of us kids knew that Bobby Decker didn’t have a cough, and
he didn’t have a coat.   I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it.   It looked real warm, and he would like that.  “Is this a Christmas present for someone?” the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down.  “Yes,” I replied shyly.  “It’s …. for Bobby.”   The nice lady smiled at me.   I didn’t get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) and wrote on the package, “To Bobby, From Santa Claus” — Grandma said that Santa
always insisted on secrecy.   Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker’s house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa’s helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby’s house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.   Then Grandma gave me a nudge.  “All right, Santa Claus,” she whispered, “get going.”

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.   Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door
to open.   Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven’t dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker’s bushes.   That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.  Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.


He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a tree.

TGIF ~ Remember the Military/Veterans

Regardless of your feelings about the military and/or war, the people in uniform deserve a prayer, positive thought, moment of silence and/or respect. They are in constant situations that can put them in harms way-even at home. Remember government civilians are in the same boat. There was a civilian killed at Ft. Hood along with those soldiers, just like at the Pentagon on 9/11.

Understand there are hateful people in America, and I’m not talking

about the shooter! I cannot repeat the garbage people wrote on Facebook and Twitter….BUT this is America and the people in uniform are fighting to preserve your right to be free and write garbage if you like!

Remember the families-children who don’t have a mother or  father during this coming holiday season. Remember their mental health. Don’t ignore problems. Be thankful it’s not you!

Halloween Joke from Email

Two brooms were hanging in the closet and after a while they got to know each other so well, they decided to get married.

One broom was, of course, the bride broom, the other the groom broom.

The bride broom looked very beautiful in her white dress. The groom broom was handsome and suave in his tuxedo. The wedding was lovely.

After the wedding, at the wedding dinner, the bride-broom leaned over and said to the groom-broom, “I think I am going to have a little whisk broom!”

“IMPOSSIBLE!” said the groom broom.

Are you ready for this?
Brace yourself; this is going to hurt
! !! !! !


………… ………… …………..
Oh for goodness sake… Laugh, or at least groan.
Life’s too short not to enjoy… Even these silly little cute……
And clean jokes!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sounds to me like she’s been sweeping around!!!

TGIF~Photojojo’s Guide to Scary Photo Pumpkins

Happy Halloween! Carving your own scary photos onto that pumpkin instead of the usual triangle eyes and

pointy teeth. All you need is a scary picture and a little know-how. Read on for the full details on how to make your own photo pumpkins. Read all the details here:

Size is Just a Number on a Tag

Too many women in all age groups are hypercritical of their size and shape. Unless your weight is causing medical problem, embrace who and what you are. Look for your inner beauty.

The fashion industry and clothing industry(they’re not the same), are waking up to the fact women have curves. If you don’t think that’s a true statement, do something about it. Women buy clothes. Spend money on something you like, not just fix over your head.

Go shopping with the conviction that you’re setting out  to learn more about what looks great on you; be willing to see how great you look.