How Do You Say Goodbye?

Today my brother-in-law, under the advice of his doctors, accepted the fact that his body cannot withstand another round of chemotherapy. He and his wife (my husband's sister) have now embarked on a new journey of decisions: how, who, what, where . . . without knowing when.

But in the midst of the tears, and phone calls, and conversations back and forth is God's grace of acceptance . . . and a love that is greater than anything.

But it still hurts, and saying goodbye is still so hard.

Mirror, Mirror on the . . . Kitchen Table?

Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away there lived a Wise King and his beautiful Queen who was known far and wide for her shiny, dark hair that fell in curls down her back. Her hair, which was always silken and never frizzy, was the inspiration for many ballads and all the knights in the kingdom . . .

but I digress.

The King and Queen had a son who was handsome, talented, and very smart. The only problem was this: when dining in the Banquet Hall his table manners were scandalous.

They tried everything to correct this problem: they scolded, they reminded and they punished, but the handsome Prince said he kept forgetting.

Soon, things became very tense in the Banquet Hall, and this would not do.

One day the Queen was brushing her beautiful curls, wishing her son could see what others saw when he eats.

And this thought prompted an epiphany.

The next evening in the Banquet Hall, the handsome Prince noticed a mirror propped against his goblet. Curious, he looked around, but everyone in the Banquet Hall was looking at their plates.

The Prince sat and quietly studied his reflection. He slowly scooted in his chair, sat up straight, and proceeded to eat without stuffing his mouth. He didn't hold his fork like a shovel, he wiped his mouth, and he sipped instead of gulped.

The King smiled, the Queen smiled, the Prince grinned, and the Banquet Hall echoed with cheers and laughter.

And everyone lived happily ever after.

~THE END~

Confessions from Hilton Head

My sister and I went for a bike ride in the rain.

TRUE! We rode our bikes in the pouring rain . . . and it was such fun! We also walked on the beach in the drizzle and watched a Bocce Tournament while holding umbrellas. My hair was FRIZZY all weekend long.

My sister rode my husband's bike.

True! And let's just clarify that half my husband's height comes from his long legs, so riding my husband's bike is like riding a horse. Okay, a little exaggeration, but still. My sister's legs are a little longer than mine, which is a good thing because if I had had to ride his bike . . . well, can you say impale?

We did our best to hide from my parents and the Italian American Club.

FALSE. Truth be known, we had dessert with them Friday night, went to see the finals of the Bocce tournament Saturday morning, had lunch with them at a Seafood Festival, and then joined them for dessert again Saturday night. We couldn't help it . . . they are fun (AND they kept feeding us).

My parents and the Italian American Club stayed at the Disney Vacation Villas.

TRUE! Go figure . . . all those seniors, and they stayed at Disney. My sister and I did not stay at the Disney Villas.

We saw a seagull walking around with a peg leg (i.e. no foot).

TRUE! And it was mean and wouldn't share the dead jellyfish with the other seagulls.

We talked way too much and laughed way too much.

FALSE, FALSE, FALSE. Sisters never laugh and talk too much. Ever.

We got plenty of rest.

FALSE. Too much to see, too much to do, too much to talk about . . . really, who had time for sleeping?

We went to church Sunday morning.

TRUE! We are good, Catholic girls; besides, my mom was somewhere on the island and we didn't want to get in trouble.

My father's team won the Bocce Tournament.

TRUE! Yes, yes he did. Twenty-four teams competed, and my father and his partner came in first place. Bravo Dad!

No Pity . . . Puh-leease.

What my husband will have to handle this weekend while I am out of town:

-field day at one school
-early dismissal for all three boys
-carpooling between two schools
-a class birthday party (my son's best friend)
-t-ball practice
-cooking and preparing all meals

STOP!!! BASTA!!! STOP!!!

Before your heart melts with pity for the poor guy, here's what I did before my trip:

-prepared the boys' field day clothes
-wrote schedule of early dismissal times
-purchased and wrapped the birthday present
-had my son sign the birthday card
-cooked sloppy joe's for Friday night's meal
-purchased lasagna and garlic bread for Saturday night's meal
-stocked the fridge
-sent in picture money, t-shirt money, and field trip permission form on Thursday so he wouldn't have to do it on Friday
-AND, did all weekend laundry by Thursday night

SO, DON'T YOU FEEL SORRY FOR HIM . . . NOT ONE SINGLE BIT.

But he's still the sweetest guy ever and I do appreciate him letting me have this weekend with my sister.

Pizza Wart . . .

what my son calls the bubble that forms on a homemade pizza crust while in the oven.

Compliments of Ua-the-Blonde (see previous post)

This, from my sister:

During a recent password audit, it was found that a blonde was using the following password:

"MickeyMinniePlutoHueyLouieDeweyDonaldGoofySacramento"

When asked why she had such a long password, she said she was told that it had to be at least 8 characters long and include at least one capital.

The Joke's on Us

Every year about this time my sister and I plan a weekend getaway . . . just the two of us.

This time we are going to Hilton Head Island. Our hotel is reserved, and we are full of plans that include dining, shopping, biking, sun-bathing, and talking into the night.

Here's what we didn't plan on: the entire Italian American Club of Augusta (which includes our parents) also on Hilton Head Island this weekend for a Bocce Tournament. I mean, what are the odds?

But that's okay, we'll be forewarned because they are, after all, a very large group of Italians. The noise level alone will let us know exactly where they are at any given moment.

Which gives my sister and me plenty of time to duck out of the way in completely the opposite direction!

Sisters

(ua the blonde, bia the brunette)