Dear Dimple: Twisties

Dear Dimple Dilemma,

Where have all the twisties gone?  You know, those little three inch wire things covered with paper?  Whenever I am at the grocery store, bagging my fruits & vegetables, I reach for a twistie, but the container is empty!  So, I move on down the aisle to another roll of plastic bags to get a twistie, but there aren't any there either!  Then, when I am at home, toasting a piece of bread or two... I reach for the twistie that I just took off the loaf of bread... but, it's gone!  I can't find it anywhere!

So, tell me... What on earth happens to all the twisties?  Is it just me or are there "twistie thieves" out among us?

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou


Dear Cindy Lou,

Rest assured, dear, that you are not the only one that has twistie troubles.  Why, I, too, suffer with the same stressful situation.  However, there have been a few times that I hit the jackpot at the grocery store and happened upon full cups of white, or yellow, or black, or green or even gold twisties.  When that happens, it is time to take action.

Do as I do... go to the store early in the day.  Your chances of finding a full cup are greater in the morning; Monday morning, Tuesday morning, Wednesday... as many days as it takes to find them.   When you do finally see the prized trophies, grab all you can, and cram them into your purse.  Did I mention you should take your biggest purse with you?  Or, if that bothers your conscious, you can wrap not just one twistie, but several twisties around your filled produce bag.  If you use a dozen twisties, you can turn them into a pretty little flower.  :)


Now, for your situation at home, gremlins or ghosts take the twistie as soon as you take your eyes & hands off of it.  They, too, suffer with a shortage of twisties.  So, for Pete's sake... smarten up and don't ever turn loose of your twistie!   That's the golden rule of the kitchen.... twisties are like gold in your pocket!  But, if that fails, and you just can't keep track of that one twistie, try duct tape.  It now comes in a rainbow of colors, and you can even color coordinate with your kitchen!

And finally, if none of the above suggestions work for you, come on over to my house.  I have outsmarted the conniving, little twistie thieves, and  I just happen to have some white ones, some yellow ones, some black ones, some green ones and even some gold ones.... Yep... I have a cupboard full!

Lovingly,
Dimple Dilemma


@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Prayer Meeting

He stared at her as if he could "eat her up", and they were in church!  Scandalous, I tell you... but, oh what a nice compliment!  She hadn't felt that special in a long, long time, and there was something in his eyes that made her long to look back at him... made her long to link gazes.  But, she didn't dare.

The prayer meeting crowd was smaller than usual, probably due to the summer heat and summer vacations, but those attending were somehow refreshed just by gathering together.  High numbers of people aren't required for the Spirit of God's presence:  humble hearts are.

She had never seen him before at church, so "he must be a visitor", she thought.  Most likely he was a relative of Matthew's, since they were sitting together.  He could even be Matthew's father.  They did resemble each other, and the age difference was fitting.  But, his stare made her uneasy.

She wondered if he thought he knew her.  She wondered if she had met him once before, but had somehow forgotten their friendship;  no, relationship... for this stare was more than just a glance. Many questions raced through her mind before he spoke, but none as persistent as the question, "Why is he so focused on me?"  

When they were introduced, his intensity continued as he asked her name.  He smiled and repeated her name, twice:  frontwards & backwards... then he commented on her matching silver jewelry.  She agreed that everything was silver except her wedding ring.  Nervously she held up her left hand showing the gold band, while giggling to cover up her discomfort.  Why had she offered this information?  Obviously he was fishing and she fell for it. "What a nitwit", she thought, disappointed in herself, not that she was married, but that she had not recognized a come on.

Gaining her composure, she changed the direction of their conversation by asking questions about him.  He was indeed Matthew's dad, and the more he spoke, the more she liked him.  Handsome looking in his khaki's and "tucked in" shirt, there was something captivating about his manner.  He spoke eloquently of his current life, lovingly about his Italian heritage,  and passionately about his war history.  He was a World War II veteran, and proud of it, as he should be.  "Navy?"  she asked.  "Yes, how did you know?" 

Then...  they were interrupted.  Their conversation was over.  A member of the congregation greeted him and thanked him for coming, while someone pulled her aside chatting about nothing important and certainly nothing memorable.  Sadly, she turned away from him, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw him glancing back... at her.

She still thinks about him.  He had a certain way about him that made her feel special, and... well, important... just by paying attention to her.  "It isn't forbidden, is it," she wonders,  "to enjoy feeling special?"

His gaze, his body language, his intensity... oh, they were powerful.  Probably four to five minutes is all they had together, but compared to a lifetime, that is such a brief moment.  World wars, cultural differences, twenty-five years of age, and her marriage separated them, but somehow, at that time and place...none of that  mattered.  For that four to five minutes, that one Wednesday night, they belonged to each other... and it made for a very, very interesting prayer meeting.




@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Rain

Rain

Long awaited,

longed for

rain.

Heaven's teardrops that we prayed

not sooner, not harder,

not longer for...

long awaited,

longed for

rain.

--Cindy Lou Hodges

Our state of Texas is suffering from one of the worst droughts in history.  Finally, it rained today.

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow...!"

@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Pink Plastic Plates

"You begin to move mountains when you start carrying away small stones."

                                                  -  Doris A. Dillon, Randleman, North Carolina

What I call the "Pink" plate!

I think she was talking about my kitchen counter.  Have you seen my bar lately?  Of course not.  You can't possibly see it because of all the clutter that's on top of it!  Yesterday I saw it as my mountain.  Today I see it as... well, shoot.  It's still my mountain... and a darn, BIG one!

Others might view it as a dumpster:  some, a treasure chest... still others, a laundry basket.  I don't dare drop clean underwear on it, but single black socks get dropped there all the time, waiting for the missing mates.  Eye glasses are supposed to be there, but I can never find a pair that has both lenses still intact.  Receipts, recipes, coupons... you name it... it's all there.  Library books sit there so long that they have to be returned before they are opened, and silk floral arrangements sit there until they sprout roots.

I did make progress this morning, though.  Yesterday my mother asked me about the pile of plates on the bar, and it embarrassed me that my mother hinted at what I should do.  So, when she makes it into the kitchen today, she will see that I have dealt with the issue, one at least.

The stack of 12 plastic melamine plates, the new ones from Target, is now a stack of eight.  I finally decided that I have not been able to decide what to do with them because I don't want to say goodbye to the four pink ones.  I like them.  They are really pretty, and, "No, I don't have anything else pink in my kitchen."  But, I like them... and after only three months, I realized that!  So, I jerked off the stickers, and now they are mine to keep.  The others... well, they are rather weird looking with their navy blue & white swirls, and I'm already sick of looking at them.  They make me dizzy.  I hope the store will take them back.  If not, maybe I can use them as a "Get Well" present for someone.  Maybe not.

Anyway, I have moved stones today:  stones disguised as dinnerware.  And... if I deal with the eight "weird"  plates, and return them to the store, and if I wash and put in the cupboard the four pink plates... then, I will have dealt with a dozen items... a dozen stones.  That's a pretty good number, don't you think?  And, a darn good accomplishment for a procrastinator who is really skilled at her profession.

Wonder if I could make a living at procrastinating... hmmm...  that would take some creative thinking, and I am good at that. But, I'll think about that a little bit later.  Right now,  I have eight plates to bag, four plastic plates to wash... the four pink, plastic ones...and stones hanging around my neck that are really bothering me. I think it's time to deal with them, and I really should do something about them.

Know anybody that needs a droopy silk floral arrangement?
Seen any extra black socks?
Even one?

Changing the world, one stone at a time...
Cindy Lou



p.s.  Thank you, Lord, that I have the time to sit and think about such little things.  Direct me towards your purpose today, and help me sort through the issues that matter and those that don't.  Direct my feet, direct my actions, and fill my heart with your goodness so that what I "dish out" today will be filled with your love.  I want to do better... really, I do, but I can't do it by myself.  Thank you, Jesus... Amen.

@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Heaven & Hope

In her last few days of waking up from fourteen hour naps, she confirmed that there is a heaven.  Many gifts she gave to me, gifts for me to keep.  But this gift, this gift I dare not keep to myself.  This gift is to be shared.  So, allow me to share my Aunt Lucy with you...

Aunt Lucy had no children of her own, so she treated us nieces and nephews as royalty.  And, when her health crisis struck, we were there for her:  taking turns sitting with her at the hospital and the nursing facility.  The doctors told us that most likely she would live only a few more weeks, but Aunt Lucy had other ideas.  She lingered for more than three months.

Those months wore on and on.  We were exhausted from our sleepless nights, we were frazzled from dealing with incompetent health care workers, and we were brokenhearted that this was how Aunt Lucy was living her last days on earth.  She had no pain, surprisingly.  For this we were grateful.

Since I did not handle the night shift very well (too many noises and interruptions), the morning shift became mine.  I was there as the morning light sifted through the blinds, wondering what each day would bring.  And to my amazement, Aunt Lucy's waking murmurs intimately described what she was experiencing.

With eyelids still closed from sleeping, she clearly spoke, "Oh, how beautiful... oh, how beautiful!" over and over again.  Not just one day, but several days in a row.  As this new phenomenon continued, her intensity of sharing grew.  I would sit as close to her as possible, taking in her every word, making sure I understood what she was saying.  I understood the words.  I never questioned their meaning.  I only questioned why I was the  chosen one to be by her side during these times.

Another morning as she awakened, she clearly said,  "Oh, there's Mama.  She's waving to me.  She looks so pretty.  She's standing by the gate.  Oh, how beautiful... oh, how beautiful!"  Then she would drift back to sleep for a short, peaceful nap.

Now, I know it is just our human nature to see our mothers as we near death.  It is a completion of  life's cycle. But the next vision she shared makes even the skeptics stop and give pause.  Lucy saw someone else awaiting her... someone else waving to her.  It was her Aunt Claudie.

The family had not told Lucy about her aunt's passing away three months prior.  Not to agitate or upset her, we had kept it secret from her that we buried her Aunt Claudie on the day of  Lucy's own surgery.  It was a difficult, sad day for us...  burying one Auntie, maybe saying goodbye to another.  But, we rallied together and, somehow, kept going.

In her vision, Claudie also was standing by the gate, waving... "Oh, there's Aunt Claudie... She looks so pretty.  What a pretty dress.  Oh, how beautiful... oh, how beautiful!"  Then she continued to awaken and become part of this earthly world again, her visions fading and her smile weakening.  Clearly, our beloved aunt was straddling the line between two worlds.  She drifted from one to the other with ease and grace, and all we could do was hold her hand and offer her chips of ice.

As for me, my spirit soared with joy and the affirmation that there is a heaven, and that I will see my loved ones once again!  But, my tears could not stop, and I could not define the line between tears of sadness and tears of joy.  How do you separate the two since they are joined by the heart?  I knew that I had been given a glimpse of glory and of what is, and what is to come for all of us believers!  But that gift came with a price, and it cost me my Aunt... cost all of us our beloved Lucy.  To this day, I still think, "What an incredible experience given to me in that one small room, stuck in a corner, in a nursing home in the little town of Calera, Oklahoma!"

The last comment Aunt Lucy shared made me dig in my Bible.  And sure enough, I found in *Revelation 5:8 what she was experiencing.  "Oh, how beautiful..." she whispered.  And smiling she said, "Mmmm... it smells so good."  "Can you smell it?"  she asked.  "It smells so sweet.  Oh, oh... oh, how beautiful!"

And, then late one evening... her earthly body wore out, and she left us. Her spirit went on to that beautiful place, but she did not leave us hopeless.  I know that she joined Jesus, and I know that she had loved ones waiting for her, because she told me so.  What a joyous reunion it must have been... one planned and blessed by God!

So, my friend, since Aunt Lucy so willingly and lovingly shared who she was and what she saw... I pass this on to you.  I don't want her to be forgotten, and her message must live on.   She gave us all many gifts, but the greatest gift of all is the gift of hope!   There is a Savior, and He has prepared a place for us... a beautiful one with my loving Grandmother and my aunties... one that smells so sweet... and one that has a gate!

Now, that's a promise... "Oh, oh... oh, how beautiful!"

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou


* "...and they were holding golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints."  --Holy Bible, Revelation 5:8  (This is what Aunt Lucy was smelling that smelled so sweet.)

 
"Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God, trust also in me.  In my Father's house are many rooms;  if it were not so, I would have told you.  I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am."  --Holy Bible, John 14:1-3
(This verse is one Aunt Lucy used to comfort us before her surgery.  She quoted it from memory.)


Verses for reference:


"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God..."  --Holy Bible... Romans 3: 23

"For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." 
-- Holy Bible... Romans 6:23

"Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me.' "   --Holy Bible... John 14: 6

"That if you confess with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved."  --Holy Bible... Romans 10:9




@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

My Morning Prayer...

Morning calls as dove greet dawn.
I arise, not knowing what day may bring.
Aware I am
that I can choose
just how I shall join in
with family, friends, with tasks, and toil
for I am alive....
let my day begin.

I can be a stumbling block,
a stump, a stick in the mud.

I can be a babbling brook.
Babbling I do well.

Perhaps the breeze is calling me
to join in its ballet...

Or fire, oh the mighty flame
devouring its prey...

Or light that shines,
illuminates,
presses darkness to its grave.

What life give I upon this day?
That's for me to say.

--Cindy Lou Hodges

Heavenly Father, only you can provide what I need today, and I praise you for your mercy and goodness.  Thank you, Lord, for lifting me, once again.  May I do the same for others and do it with a cheerful heart.

Sincerely me...
Cindy Lou

@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Car Wash Blues

Today I got the car washed.
'Twas a big, big job

'cause it was really dirty.

It had caked-on blobs...

Blobs of greasy, grimy dirt

and lots and lots of mud.
Boy, was that car dirty
with the slush and slime and crud...

Crud from all the city streets,

the ones they're working on
with the trenchers and the asphalt.
Oh, when will they be gone?

Gone to other streets in town

so someone else can sob,

Cindy Lou

"Today I got the car washed...

'Twas a big, big job!"


@Copyright 1988, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Question

Doctors' waiting rooms:  a menagerie of different folks forced to cohabitate together until their name is called!

Yesterday I shared the waiting room with three pairs of people.  A young grandmother and her preteen grand daughter were the quiet ones.  They smiled at me.  Across the room sat the middle age woman with her flaming red hair, her laptop, and her senior male companion.  They were recanting his medical history, details and all, as she documented his history.  Pleeze.  They were oblivious to their rudeness:  oblivious to their crudeness.  They ignored me.  I wished I could have done the same.

Then there was the sullen-looking couple who sat right behind me, the backs of our chairs unmercifully rubbing each other.  My mother sat beside me, her wheelchair placed in the only available space.  So, there I sat filling out the medical forms when I heard the woman behind me say, "Would you say I am a person who keeps her word?"  I dared not turn around, but what a strange question to just blurt out to someone.  Surely she wasn't talking to me, but there was no response from the man directly behind me.  So, after a long quiet spell, she asked her question again, just a little bit louder, "Would you say that I am a person who keeps her word?"  Still no response.

The third time she said it with some attitude, "WOULD YOU SAY THAT I AM A PERSON WHO KEEPS HER WORD?"  He finally said, "What did you say?"  Good gosh, she had to say it again, and this time he retorted,  "Huh?".

I felt like I was in a twilight zone, and all the exit doors had been sealed tight.  The ventilation had seemed to stop, and the fluorescent lights were dancing in circles.  There was no way out.  I was forced to experience this human behavior of humans I had never seen before and never wanted to see again.  My gut instinct was to turn around and yell to the man, "She said... 'Would you say that I am a person who keeps her word?'  Well, is she?  Huh, Huh?  The answer is either yes or no!"

But, before I could whip around in my chair and blurt it out, she interrupted my thoughts and yelled, "Is this your good ear or your bad ear?"  "My gosh, if it's his good ear, I am so out of here... I am bustin' a hole in the wall and runnin' like hell.  What on earth is wrong with these people???"

Finally, without any prodding from me, her bellowing  made contact with his brain.  He understand her question, and he barked, "Yea.".  And, thank goodness, that was it.  She did not ask any more questions. It was over.  I didn't hear another word from either of them, and I didn't feel any more chair movements from behind.  And, as protocol dictates, all of us sitting in the room, pretended nothing had just happened.

What a weird, uncomfortable situation.  I don't know who I felt the worst for:  her, him, or me.  But, it was "real life drama", and the effort spent on obtaining that one answer seems such a waste.  If we could have channeled all that hot air in the room, we could have generated enough electricity to cool the entire building, and a burst of fresh air certainly would have been welcomed.  I find it strange that the poor woman had to ask someone else what she should have already known about herself.  Had she not explored herself enough to know the answer?   How sad, truly sad.

It seems that I find myself in some very uncomfortable places lately, you know... places that are not my normal comfort zone.  And I know we're supposed to keep a stiff upper lip, keep forging ahead, make everyday a masterpiece, and learn to dance in the rain.  So, I keep telling myself, that I can do this.  I can go wherever I need to go, deal with whomever I need to deal with, and I can do whatever is required of me.  I can do this.  But, I think what disturbs me most about this "waiting room episode" is the fact that this rude, obnoxious, insensitive woman who invaded "my space", stirred up something inside me, something my conscious mind would rather not hear and would rather not face. 

Her question still echoes in my mind, but instead of directing the question to someone else, it's time to ask myself... ask myself boldly, bellowingly, strongly, softly, quietly, and then gently... "You say you can do this, Cindy, so... would you say that you are a person who keeps her word?" 

"Well, are you?"



@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

The Store

Yesterday I shopped.
Yesterday I bought
shiny, bright and blingy things
and boldly printed tops.

Oh, they were so pretty.
They made me feel so good.
Then when at home and all alone
I thought that "Yes, I should..."

Model them and check them out
and try them on to see
which one of them I should wear first,
which one was best for me.

But something weird had happened.
It still confuses me:
Neither one was half the fun,
and both were quite UGG-LY.

No matter how I tugged or pulled
or beautifully accessorized,
those tops were bad.  It made me sad,
and then I realized...

The tags were there, were still intact.
I still had my receipt.
I didn't have to keep them.
This was no defeat.

So, back I'd go, with bag in hand
and a smile upon my face.
For now I get to shop again.
Gee, I love this place!

And once again when tomorrow comes,
when the dawn presents its day,
awakenings may happen.
Perhaps you'll hear me say...

"Yesterday I shopped.
Yesterday I bought
shiny, bright and blingy things
and boldly printed tops."

And, the beat goes on because some of us keep doing our part...

Sincerely a true story,
Cindy Lou


@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

She and Me

She annoyed me. This gentle looking, blue haired "Senior" really made me see red.  She was supposed to be helpful.  That's what hospital volunteers do:  they help people navigate their way through hospitals.  But, this one?  Well... I think she needs to stay home.

Can't figure out why I'm sharing this with you, other than to blow off some steam.  Or, maybe, I need to work through this, and see if I can learn anything from the experience.  I've always said that I can learn something from everyone, educated or uneducated.... so, let's see if that holds true, and I can "walk my talk" on this one.

We had spent the morning at the hospital getting blood tests done, so we had already experienced the routine of checking in at the front desk, waiting for our "buzzer" to flash and sound off, and being escorted to the blood lab.  Now, for the second time in one day, we were back with doctor's orders to have a unit of blood withdrawn.  It's a common procedure for someone with the blood disease Polycythemia-Vera, but not always easy for geriatric patients or someone with weak veins:  both of which Mama is, and Mama has.

Knowing the procedure might take a couple of hours, we went to the ladies' room... with the buzzer tucked in the side of my purse, that purse on my shoulder, both shoulders pushing Mama's wheelchair.  It's never easy going to a public restroom when you're in a wheelchair, and the simplest tasks are not simple at all.  But, you manage as best you can. 

While behind one of the inner "closed doors", we heard someone yell.  I ignored it.  But, then the yelling continued, and this time I understood my mother's last name.  "What?  ... what is she saying?"  So, as I  opened the door, this woman in the blue coat was standing at the big door with her hands on her hips.  She promptly huffed, "You're in here...  I have been looking all over for you!"

I didn't understand why she was so rude, so I replied... "But our buzzer hasn't gone off.  I've been listening for it."

"Well, they're ready for you, and I had to walk all over to find you!"

Totally aghast at her attitude, I tried to change the mood by light-heartedly saying, "When you gotta' go, you gotta' go."  After washing our hands, I rolled Mama out the door as the bluecoat stood rigid as a sentry. 

I knew my way around the hospital.  My gosh, we had lived our lives there for nearly a year, and I needed no instructions on how to get to the lab.  But, as I rolled to the front desk, I heard this demanding voice behind me, "Keep walking!"  The one time I slowed down, she bellowed it again, "Keep walking!"

Her hostility echoed, and mine was awakened!  If I had turned around to look at her, I know without a doubt I would have lashed out at her and said or done something I would later regret:  something like slapping her in the face.  A cat fight could have occurred right there in the main lobby.  She had definately over-stepped the boundary between assistance and control. She deserved to be reprimanded:  not I.

I don't know how, but, somehow, I managed to ignore the hateful heart behind me.  Don't misunderstand me... I am not a saint.  I wanted to say plenty, and I am quite capable of doing so.  Snippets of reactions raced through my mind.  "Who do you think you are?"  "Respect your elders."  "Who made you boss?"   "A soft answer turns away wrath."  "What an old biddy!"  "Love your enemies...  Argh!"  "Talk back to her.  Put her in her place."  Right and wrong replies reeled inside my head. 

So, with my  jaws clenched, and stinging eyes, somehow I remained focused on what was ahead of me and remained focused on my real task:  taking care of my mama.    She was, fortunately, unaware of what was going on, and didn't understand the humiliation that had just occurred.  But, I did.  And, I felt it for both of us.

Before I left the lobby, I handed the black buzzer box to the woman.  "It never made a sound."  I said, and turned on my heels to walk away.  And it was over.  That little combat between two women, both trying to do their jobs, stopped right then and there.  She thought she had won.  I know I did.  Why was there ever a conflict?  Why was there ever anything to win?

Some battles you can choose.  This one was offered to me, and I could have engaged in verbal warfare with the blue-haired, bluecoat.  I wanted to, and I am quite capable of doing so.  But, time tells me that it would have been wasted energy;  energy that was required elsewhere.

It wasn't an easy day, by any means.  It was exhausting and very draining.  It was, also, a day to remember.  Hindsight shows me I should have and could have handled it all differently, but I am not perfect, and I make mistakes, too.
  
Like I said  at the beginning of my story.  I can learn from anyone, and I have relived this episode many times... over & over again, trying to figure out what good came from this unpleasant day.  Just what did I learn from this woman, besides how NOT to treat someone?    Well, I learned three things:  I learned that I can choose my battles, and I learned that I should save my energy for what really is important.

Those are good things to know, and the entire episode proved to be valuable.  Guess I need to say, "Thank you, Ms. Bluecoat, for challenging me to grow.  I am amazed that our brief time together taught me so much about myself, and I am so glad to know that I can handle folks like you.  If our paths should cross again, I do hope you're in a better mood, because you see... I have a short memory and a big mouth, and I just may not remember the very last thing I learned from you."

"And that is:  that I can make and keep my decision to move forward and to stay focused on what is ahead of me and to ignore the ugly that is behind me."

Well, now that all of this is said and done... I feel better.

Sincerely,
Cindy Lou

p.s.  Not proud of my "human-ness", but so aware of it. 


@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.

Earring mystery solved!

"Eureka!  Eureka!  The lost is found!"
So happy am I... I shall expound!

I'm dancin' a jog and singin' a jig.
I found my earrings... those thingamajigs!!!

Whoop-de-doo's and la-de-da's.
I'm raisin' a ruckus and hoo-hoo-rah's!

Hidden they were.  Out of sight.
Discovered today to my delight!

"Bling!  Bling!"  My heart does sing.
"I found them today... two heart earrings!"


After five years of wondering what had happened to them, they appeared!  I found them tucked away in their little cloth bag, in a box of dirty socks.  That's right... phew, dirty socks!

This box has been in the bottom of the closet for a long, long time:  totally ignored for years.  But recently I moved it to the laundry room, and today I actually dealt with the undesirable.  Little did I know that I was involved in a treasure hunt... one that had such delight as its reward.

So, pardon me while I smile.  Please, pardon me while I glee.
It's just that they were gone.  Now, they've come back to me.

"Eureka!  Eureka!"  I do expound.
So happy am I... The lost is found!!!

Joy! Joy!  Tucked in a box.
A box of hearts and dirty socks!!!


Love days like this,
Cindy Lou



@Copyright 2011, Cindy Lou Hodges All Rights Reserved.