My blog

Category: General

  • Prague Adventure-Part 2:

    Being in a city that my daughter said was her favorite in all of Europe encouraged us to visit, so you can imagine how every sight, every person, every building inspired our interest. Prague, if you get the chance, is a must see city!

    We decided to take a six hour tour of Prague. Part of it was a walking tour, part of it was by tram and part of it was on a boat with lunch included. Because we knew we would be walking a lot, we decided to park our car where we started the tour In Wencelaus Square. We were fortunate that it was a terrific day. Sunny but not too warm!

    Imagine our surprise when a colorful brigade of vintage American cars in pristine condition paraded into the square. Apparently, they were used to take visitors on tours of the city. That’s what we should have done.

    But, finding where the tour started and how to buy the tickets was a challenge. The pamphlet said to look for the person with the yellow umbrella in Wencelas Square. Pretty vague if you ask me. Especially since there were quite a few of those yellow umbrellas poking up above the different crowds of people.

    The tour was an overview of the city and would serve us well so that we could decide where we wanted to spend our second day in a little more depth. We looked and found a lady with a yellow umbrella, and she directed us to a place across the boulevard to buy the tickets. We had time since the tour didn’t start until 10:30 and it was only a little after 10. After buying our tickets we walked back across the street to the center of the boulevard. While waiting, we talked with a mother and daughter who were visiting Prague.

    Our tour guide, Nina, was fantastic. She not only spoke excellent English, she had a terrific sense of humor and was very knowledgeable about her city.  She told us the story of  King Wencelas who is the Patron Saint of the Czech people.  We know King Wencelas from our beloved Christmas Carol, Good King Wencelas.

    What was interesting was that the Czech people had never heard of one of our beloved Christmas Carols!  The words were written by John Mason Neale and published in 1853. The music originated in Finland 300 years earlier. The Christmas carol is unusual as there is no reference in the lyrics to the nativity.

    King Wenceslas was the king of Bohemia in the 10th century. He was a devout Catholic and was assassinated by his brother Boleslaw and his supporters. Wenceslas was raised as a Christian by his paternal grandmother while Boleslaw was raised as a pagan by his mother. Wencelas’ Saint’s Day is September 28th. St. Stephen’s feast day was celebrated on the 26th of December which is probably why the song is sung as a Christmas carol.

    The day went from bad to worse because we assumed (wrongly, of course) that we’d spend one third of the time on each activity listed in the pamphlet.  The boat ride lasted about a half hour, and lunch an hour (which was fun). The tram lasted about twenty minutes. The rest of the time we were on foot. By the time we got to the castle we could barely walk. We were not prepared to walk as much as we did.

    So, if you travel to any European city, wear the most comfortable walking shoes you have so as not to aggravate your feet on those marathon tours.  Opt for the hop-on, hop-off bus tours if the city has them. We used them in many European cities and would use them again because we found it easier to get around. Unfortunately, at the time we lived in Germany, Prague did not have them… but they do now.

    In the end, we had to take a tram back to the starting point because, unknown to us, the tour ended at the castle. We had to find our way back on our own which was a shock, and another lesson learned.

    Thankfully, there was a person on the tram who spoke Italian and directed us to which trams we had to take to get back to our car in Wenceslas Square.

    By the time we got back to our hotel, our feet had taken a beating. Not even Advil helped. All in all, while our feet hurt, we were grateful to have visited Prague.

    And we learned a valuable lesson: don’t take a walking tour or any kind of tour without asking specific questions!

    Would we go back again? In a heartbeat… only the next time we’ll use different transportation and ask more questions.

    Have you ever a travel mishap while on vacation? Share your experience below.

  • The PRAY Method:

    Recently, on a Sunday morning at church a young lady I’d seen at various services but had never met,  greeted me at the door. She commented on how I pray in our Wednesday and Sunday evening prayer time.  Her words startled me. I had expected, “I love how you belt out your prayers.”

    The reason I was surprised was because it took me many years to have enough confidence to pray out loud within a group setting, even if it was just a few people.  These days, it could be anywhere from ten to thirty people and sometimes more in those group settings.

    I was raised in a household where the same prayers were said over and over and over again.

    As I look back, I can see how God was moving me little by little in a direction He wanted me to go (I rebelled on many occasions, and I suffered the consequences of that rebellion just like any other child of God).

    It all started when I was taking classes as an eight year old to make my first communion, I remember asking the Sister (the nun who was teaching our class), what prayers do I say when I come back from communion. Somehow, her response didn’t seem out of the ordinary… not then and certainly not now.

    What was her response?

    “Talk to Jesus as if He were standing right in front of you.”

    I took her suggestion and “talked” to Jesus after communion from that first time until now. But that wasn’t standard practice in the Catholic faith. While I continued to go to the Catholic church, it was just a routine. There was no relationship there other than when I had communion. And even then, I wondered if Jesus heard me talking to Him. (Today, I know He did… because He stood beside me throughout all my trials… I just didn’t see it then.)

    Years went by, and I suffered through a traumatic divorce. It was an exceptionally low time in my life. I didn’t have an education (other than high school), and couldn’t find a job, plus I had two grade-school aged children.  How would I manage?

    My brother’s wife suggested I meet with some ladies and they would pray for me. I figured it couldn’t hurt and it might help.

    When I went there, these lovely women prayed for me. At the end of our time, one of them asked a very insightful question: “Do you know where you are going when you die?”

    At that moment I really wasn’t sure if I was going to heaven or hell, but I desperately wanted to go to heaven. I prayed the sinner’s prayer that night and was encouraged to attend church with them. One of the women waited for me outside the church (at the time we were meeting in a high school auditorium).

    I’d never been to a service quite like that one and I became hungry to know more. I tell you all of this just to get to the part where I learned to pray.

    I wanted to be effective in my praying. My first pastor told us the Lord’s prayer is a model for how to pray. I didn’t know that. We were never taught from the Bible other than the small set of verses said in mass every week.

    Matthew 6:7-8 tells us not to use vain repetition, because He already knows what we have need of.

    But I was struck by the first part of Matthew 6:9, where the Jesus tells His disciples, “In this manner, therefore pray:”  It doesn’t say to pray that prayer, although you can… on occasion. Just don’t be rote about it.

    Our pastor gave a message on prayer that has stayed with me ever since. Oh, I’ve heard other acronyms over the years to help with prayer… but the acronym PRAY seemed the easiest for me to remember.

    P=Praise

    Praise God for who He is and what He has done for you.  If you have trouble finding words to praise Him… turn to the Psalms to help you.  (Even if you have to read them to start your prayer time… it’s a good thing!) Mix and match as the spirit leads!

    • Psalm 8 and Psalm 19 speak of God’s Majesty
    • Psalm 47 and Psalm 96 speak of God’s Sovereignty.
    • Psalm 103 and Psalm 145 speak of God’s Goodness and Faithfulness
    • Psalm 148 and Psalm 150 gives praise to God for all creation.

    R=Repent and give thanks

    Ask forgiveness for sins you have committed, the known and unknown sins. No one is sinless and God will forgive you, if you repent and turn away from it… At least try to turn away from it.

    Romans 3:23 “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

    Give thanks for the blessings in your life. I usually thank God for His provision, for my family, my church and any other thing that comes to mind because it is all His anyway.

    1 Thessalonians 5:18 “In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

    A=Ask for others

    This is where you pray for others. It can be anything from health, to relationships, to finances, to whatever is going on in your family and friends’ lives. You can even extend the prayers to other nations and peoples.

    (My husband and I pray from our weekly prayer list that we get from our church, but you can start your own prayer list with a journal.)

    Y=Ask for Yourself

    Pray about your needs by asking the Lord to favor you after you have praised Him, asked for forgiveness, and prayed for others showing a true humble spirit.

    I have found this method to be an effective way to pray. Not only do your words not become rote but you find more and more to pray about.

    I remember my prayer time was short when I first started praying this way, as time went by, (and I commuted about thirty minutes to work) I found that was the best time for me to pray. So it was on the way to work and on the way home that became my prayer time. It worked for me back then. My prayer time has evolved, and I pray throughout the day, after my husband and I pray corporately. It’s great to get into the habit of doing it.

    Find a time that works for you.  How do you pray? Do you have a method? Please share your thoughts below.

     

  • Prague – Part 1

    As you can imagine, it was quite eerie to travel to a country that was once behind the iron curtain. The fact that we drove from Germany to the Czech Republic seemed surreal. The trip was over 500 kilometers from our humble apartment in Plieningen, Germany.

    Since the Czech Republic did not use the Euro currency, we were forced to exchange Euros for Czech Crownes. The base did not do that exchange so we were forced, once again, to go to the airport to make the exchange.

    Although the trip was long covering lovely German countryside, I was struck with an even greater awareness of communism and the eeriness of traveling to a country that was once under communist control. Driving through the checkpoint without having to stop and show our passports was weird to me. But I wasn’t about to complain.

    Our hotel was in Old town. As you can imagine, parking is limited in old cities like Prague. The streets are narrow and can barely fit traffic let alone parked cars. Many of the streets are one way making it even more difficult to get to where we needed to go. Our GPS (affectionately known as “Julie”) finally took us to the parking location. Unfortunately, we didn’t know it was on the back side of the hotel, so we went wandering around with luggage in tow.

    By the time we found our hotel and checked in, it was 9 pm. Our room was on the fourth floor. We took the elevator up to the third floor and had to hoof it to the fourth floor because the elevator didn’t go that high.

    We decided to go to dinner and finally found an Argentinian restaurant and ate, then walked back to the hotel at midnight!  Yikes!

    The next morning, we had breakfast in the hotel which was like all the breakfasts we had in Germany and other European cities. But the kicker was that we did not realize that the elevator that we took the night before was not an elevator that you’d take in the U.S. hotels. No… this one was on the exterior of the building and perched on the side of the hotel with thin poles.

    When I saw how it was attached, my heart was in my mouth every time we got on it.

    Was this a hint of what was to come?  Hopefully the trip would get better. Stay tuned to part 2 of our Czech Republic adventure.

  • Independence Day…

    248 years later…

    Many men and women have died to preserve our nation’s freedom, but today the country is in shambles where lawlessness abounds.

    There is a concept of how a society or country will only last 250 years. We are fast approaching that pivotal year, so I thought I’d research and share the timeline.

    For the first fifty years (1776-1826), leaders focus on survival, establishing boundaries and putting infrastructure in place, then they move to expand their boundaries as the people move and settle, they diversify their economy through agriculture, mining and trade.

    For the second fifty years (1826-1876), the nation becomes more commercial with trade routes. More focus is on cultural things like the arts, literature and science. Formal institutions like universities, banks and courts are established. Populations increase and cities expand. (Although in the case of the U.S., the civil war occurred from 1861 to 1865, making it one of the deadliest conflicts in American history with approximately 750,000 deaths from both sides of the conflict.)

    For the third fifty years (1876-1926), there’s a peak of prosperity with emerging luxurious lifestyles. Scholars of philosophy, science, and arts reach new heights, but the government becomes overly ambitious in their military campaigns. When resources are stretched thin, dissent begins to appear. Corruption and bureaucracy creeps in. Moral decay and civil unrest are the order of the day and central authority becomes weak.

    For the fourth fifty years (1926-1976), there’s a complacency in the ruling class and social inequality grows. There’s corruption and nepotism in institutions and trust in them wanes. There’s a moral decay where social norms deteriorate, and materialism dominates. There is civil unrest, and the government struggles to maintain order and central authority weakens. (The great depression hit in the latter part of 1929 and lasted well into the 1930s. Civil unrest was quite evident in the civil rights movement from 1954 all the way to the assassination of Martin Luther King in 1968. Many died as a result of the unrest, and I remember the curfews in my hometown.)

    For the fifth fifty years (1976-2026), there’s an economic decline where trade diminishes, and unemployment rises. Borders are breached and there’s a social breakdown where lawlessness spreads. Political instability is at the forefront and there are power struggles to destabilize the nation until finally the central government succumbs to a collapse where it may be invaded, breaks into smaller states or possibly falls under the control of another power.

    While there are parallels to what historical individuals tell us about what happens in a society, and some of it we have experienced and are experiencing today, it does not have to be that way. We are headed toward our 250th year and while there is fear and lawlessness everywhere we look, there is also hope.

    There’s a scripture verse in 2 Chronicles 7:14 which says, “If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.” I often pray this scripture over the country I was born to and love.

    Just last night, our pastor encouraged us to pray for our nation (which my husband and I do regularly) and then he followed up with an email to us this morning. In it was the same encouragement, but there was something extra. I didn’t know there were four verses to our national anthem, Star Spangled Banner. Here is that fourth verse:

    O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand

    Between their lov’d home and the war’s desolation!

    Blessed with vict’ry and peace may the heav’n rescued land

    Praise the power that hath made and preserv’d us a nation

    Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just.

    And this be our motto “In God is our trust.”

    And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave

    O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

    Many people often forget this great nation was built on Judeo-Christian principles. May God bless America, today and in the days to come. Pray for her… she needs it.

     

     

  • Spa Day…

    Since we got up late that Sunday morning, so we had our church services in our Plieningen apartment. We listened to worship music and three messages: two by our old pastor at Calvary Chapel and one by a pastor from a church in Vacaville, California. Afterward, we prayed for our country, friends, and family.

    After church, we had lunch and then went to a spa in Beuren, which was about thirty kilometers away from where we lived.

    It was a unique and interesting experience. We found the place with no trouble thanks to Julie (our English GPS) but we had difficulty finding a parking place. Once again, I forgot to bring my camera, so I have scanned and uploaded some photos from their brochure (I want to apologize up front for them). Since the spa was open until 10pm we had a lot of time, even though we never arrived there until about 2pm.

    It was definitely a LOT larger than I expected.

    We paid for our tickets 10 Euro (about $15) for four hours for both of us. That would be more than enough time for us. It was very inexpensive compared to the spas in Northern California. The clerk asked us if we wanted to go into the clothed area or the nude area. What? It was a nude spa? I laughed and said, “No way! Thank you anyway.”

    After going through a turnstile using our tickets as a key to get in, we were escorted to a locker by a young man who spoke English. The locker room was co-ed but there were male and female showers. The locker had a key that was plastic and attached to a plastic wrist band. We were told to store our things in the locker and take the key with us. In order to get the key out, we had to use our ticket to release it.

    After finding two changing rooms (one for me and one for my husband), we moved toward the bathrooms to shower before going into the spa. I want to describe that changing room because it was so unusual. They were in long rows and there were two doors going into a singular, tiny cubicle. There was a bar that extended the length of the changing room and it was the mechanism by which both doors would lock. It was difficult to get that bar to lock both doors, but I wasn’t taking any chances that someone might walk in while I was changing into my bathing suit!

    We separated to go to our respective shower rooms, then we emerged into a huge area where there were cubes in the walls for towels, sunglasses and tanning lotions. There were flip-flops everywhere! There were three pools inside and three pools outside. It was an overcast day, and it wasn’t hot, but we would explore the outdoor pools later.

    After looking around and stowing our towels in one of the many cubes on the wall, we realized every interior pool was a different size and had different temperatures. The first one we went into was too cold. So we went to another one that was warmer. We didn’t realize it, but it was a highly monitored spa and there were tons of people. We stayed there for a bit but decided we wanted to explore more of the spa. I will elaborate on this pool later in the blog. We decided to find the sauna.

    What struck me the most was the number of people and the different kinds of people. There were children splashing around in the pools, next to young lovers cuddling. There were the elderly along with middle-aged, and those with infirmities (metal crutches were propped next to the pools). What was even more interesting was that there were women who clearly should not have been wearing bikinis, but they were. No one thought this was out of the ordinary and no one laughed or made fun of them. That was refreshing to see.

    After walking outside and into another building, we were now in a grotto-like cave. There were stalactites on the ceiling and there was an area where people were sitting on rock like benches. In another area of the grotto, there were showers.

    Since we could not read any of the signs (they were in German, of course), we decided to try the different rooms. The first room was what I would call the “salt” room. We walked in and it was cloudy and warm and smelled and tasted very salty. We sat on the bottom row of the three-tiered, ceramic-tiled seating area. There was a clock on the wall, and we stayed in there for some fifteen minutes or so. My entire body felt salty.

    We went onto the next room which was the “real” sauna. It was 60 degrees centigrade which roughly translates into 140 degrees. It was hot in there. Again, we sat on the first tier of the three-tiered, ceramic-tiled seating areas. It was difficult to breathe but we stayed (and sweat) in there for about fifteen minutes.

    Then we decided we needed to shower off the salt and the heat and went into the shower area, which also was in a grotto-like environment. The shower stalls were positioned in a semi-circular manner with one large one in the middle with a half wall surrounding it. That one was the one to look out for. It spilled huge amounts of ice-cold water onto the person who was under it. And while we searched for a warm water shower, we were splashed with that ice cold water on several occasions.

    After showering, we decided to check out the outdoor pools. It appeared the first one was not heated. That was not for me, at least not on that day. We went to the second one and gingerly stepped down on the stainless steel steps. As soon as we hit the bottom of the steps, we were immediately swept into a current running around the closest end of the pool. There was a circular area people were hanging on to…after going around the circular area we ended up towards the middle of the pool, but it was difficult not being drawn into that current again. We used the stainless steel handrails to guide us along the edge so we could get to the steps to get out. Even this pool was not hot enough, not to mention having to fight that current.

    The next pool was about 42 degrees Celsius which is about 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Now that was more like it. It was spa, of course, but no jets. It was a stainless steel, round pool and could hold about twenty-five people There were seats along the perimeter. We sat there and did some people watching. There were people from all nations: USA, France, Turkey, Italy and of course, Germany.

    It was time for us to get out and I wanted to go back to the first pool we were in. That pool had jets that we did not get to experience. We realized when we got out the first time, we were in there that it was a very controlled pool in that the jets which were for different parts of the body were along the perimeter of the pool. People lined up to the stairs and waited in line. There was a large timer on the wall above the waterfall at the end of the pool that could be seen from anywhere in the pool.

    How it worked was that the timer was set for 30 seconds. Every time the timer hit zero, the people moved to the next set of jets. Leave it to the Germans to be orderly even when they are in the spa. It worked though, and everyone gets a chance to use the various jets. From jets for your feet to jets for your shoulders and back. It was wonderful. I was totally looking forward to being under the waterfall but for some reason, when I got there, it wouldn’t work. I was bummed about that. Oh well. Perhaps next time.

    We walked around the spa for a bit and realized they have a cafe, tanning beds, a work- out area and you could get a massage. It was a terrific place, and according to Brigit (the woman who was doing physical therapy on my husband), it’s the best place around.

    My husband was not all that impressed because the spas were not hot enough (except the one outside) for him. And what he really didn’t like was the number of people who were there. He thought it was going to be a natural spa, not man made. I suppose if one goes on a Sunday, it is expected there will be tons of people. I had to wonder how many people went during the week?

    We retraced our steps, showered, and got dressed.

    Ted lost his ticket, and he didn’t realize he needed it to leave the locker room. That must be the way they monitor how long one is in the spa. Anyway, I went to the counter and begged the clerk to allow him to leave.

    The ride home was uneventful. At that point we were very hungry and decided to have pizza at Mama Maria’s across the street from where we lived.

    After eating, we realized it was time to do the weekly chore of laundry. It was getting increasingly difficult to find the motivation to gather up the clothes and take them to get washed on base. Add to that, laundry is my very least favorite chore to do, and it’s even more of a struggle when we have to lug the laundry to and fro. We had to get a washer and dryer fairly soon.

    Have you ever been to a spa such as this? I will never forget it, that’s for sure.

     

     

     

     

  • Spa Day…

    Since we got up late that Sunday morning, so we had our church services in our Plieningen apartment. We listened to worship music and three messages: two by our old pastor at Calvary Chapel and one by a pastor from a church in Vacaville, California. Afterward, we prayed for our country, friends, and family.

    After church, we had lunch and then went to a spa in Beuren, which was about thirty kilometers away from where we lived.

    It was a unique and interesting experience. We found the place with no trouble thanks to Julie (our English GPS) but we had difficulty finding a parking place. Once again, I forgot to bring my camera, so I have scanned and uploaded some photos from their brochure (I want to apologize up front for them). Since the spa was open until 10pm we had a lot of time, even though we never arrived there until about 2pm.

    It was definitely a LOT larger than I expected.

    We paid for our tickets 10 Euro (about $15) for four hours for both of us. That would be more than enough time for us. It was very inexpensive compared to the spas in Northern California. The clerk asked us if we wanted to go into the clothed area or the nude area. What? It was a nude spa? I laughed and said, “No way! Thank you anyway.”

    After going through a turnstile using our tickets as a key to get in, we were escorted to a locker by a young man who spoke English. The locker room was co-ed but there were male and female showers. The locker had a key that was plastic and attached to a plastic wrist band. We were told to store our things in the locker and take the key with us. In order to get the key out, we had to use our ticket to release it.

    After finding two changing rooms (one for me and one for my husband), we moved toward the bathrooms to shower before going into the spa. I want to describe that changing room because it was so unusual. They were in long rows and there were two doors going into a singular, tiny cubicle. There was a bar that extended the length of the changing room and it was the mechanism by which both doors would lock. It was difficult to get that bar to lock both doors, but I wasn’t taking any chances that someone might walk in while I was changing into my bathing suit!

    We separated to go to our respective shower rooms, then we emerged into a huge area where there were cubes in the walls for towels, sunglasses and tanning lotions. There were flip-flops everywhere! There were three pools inside and three pools outside. It was an overcast day, and it wasn’t hot, but we would explore the outdoor pools later.

    After looking around and stowing our towels in one of the many cubes on the wall, we realized every interior pool was a different size and had different temperatures. The first one we went into was too cold. So we went to another one that was warmer. We didn’t realize it, but it was a highly monitored spa and there were tons of people. We stayed there for a bit but decided we wanted to explore more of the spa. I will elaborate on this pool later in the blog. We decided to find the sauna.

    What struck me the most was the number of people and the different kinds of people. There were children splashing around in the pools, next to young lovers cuddling. There were the elderly along with middle-aged, and those with infirmities (metal crutches were propped next to the pools). What was even more interesting was that there were women who clearly should not have been wearing bikinis, but they were. No one thought this was out of the ordinary and no one laughed or made fun of them. That was refreshing to see.

    After walking outside and into another building, we were now in a grotto-like cave. There were stalactites on the ceiling and there was an area where people were sitting on rock like benches. In another area of the grotto, there were showers.

    Since we could not read any of the signs (they were in German, of course), we decided to try the different rooms. The first room was what I would call the “salt” room. We walked in and it was cloudy and warm and smelled and tasted very salty. We sat on the bottom row of the three-tiered, ceramic-tiled seating area. There was a clock on the wall, and we stayed in there for some fifteen minutes or so. My entire body felt salty.

    We went onto the next room which was the “real” sauna. It was 60 degrees centigrade which roughly translates into 140 degrees. It was hot in there. Again, we sat on the first tier of the three-tiered, ceramic-tiled seating areas. It was difficult to breathe but we stayed (and sweat) in there for about fifteen minutes.

    Then we decided we needed to shower off the salt and the heat and went into the shower area, which also was in a grotto-like environment. The shower stalls were positioned in a semi-circular manner with one large one in the middle with a half wall surrounding it. That one was the one to look out for. It spilled huge amounts of ice-cold water onto the person who was under it. And while we searched for a warm water shower, we were splashed with that ice cold water on several occasions.

    After showering, we decided to check out the outdoor pools. It appeared the first one was not heated. That was not for me, at least not on that day. We went to the second one and gingerly stepped down on the stainless steel steps. As soon as we hit the bottom of the steps, we were immediately swept into a current running around the closest end of the pool. There was a circular area people were hanging on to…after going around the circular area we ended up towards the middle of the pool, but it was difficult not being drawn into that current again. We used the stainless steel handrails to guide us along the edge so we could get to the steps to get out. Even this pool was not hot enough, not to mention having to fight that current.

    The next pool was about 42 degrees Celsius which is about 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Now that was more like it. It was spa, of course, but no jets. It was a stainless steel, round pool and could hold about twenty-five people There were seats along the perimeter. We sat there and did some people watching. There were people from all nations: USA, France, Turkey, Italy and of course, Germany.

    It was time for us to get out and I wanted to go back to the first pool we were in. That pool had jets that we did not get to experience. We realized when we got out the first time, we were in there that it was a very controlled pool in that the jets which were for different parts of the body were along the perimeter of the pool. People lined up to the stairs and waited in line. There was a large timer on the wall above the waterfall at the end of the pool that could be seen from anywhere in the pool.

    How it worked was that the timer was set for 30 seconds. Every time the timer hit zero, the people moved to the next set of jets. Leave it to the Germans to be orderly even when they are in the spa. It worked though, and everyone gets a chance to use the various jets. From jets for your feet to jets for your shoulders and back. It was wonderful. I was totally looking forward to being under the waterfall but for some reason, when I got there, it wouldn’t work. I was bummed about that. Oh well. Perhaps next time.

    We walked around the spa for a bit and realized they have a cafe, tanning beds, a work- out area and you could get a massage. It was a terrific place, and according to Brigit (the woman who was doing physical therapy on my husband), it’s the best place around.

    My husband was not all that impressed because the spas were not hot enough (except the one outside) for him. And what he really didn’t like was the number of people who were there. He thought it was going to be a natural spa, not man made. I suppose if one goes on a Sunday, it is expected there will be tons of people. I had to wonder how many people went during the week?

    We retraced our steps, showered, and got dressed.

    Ted lost his ticket, and he didn’t realize he needed it to leave the locker room. That must be the way they monitor how long one is in the spa. Anyway, I went to the counter and begged the clerk to allow him to leave.

    The ride home was uneventful. At that point we were very hungry and decided to have pizza at Mama Maria’s across the street from where we lived.

    After eating, we realized it was time to do the weekly chore of laundry. It was getting increasingly difficult to find the motivation to gather up the clothes and take them to get washed on base. Add to that, laundry is my very least favorite chore to do, and it’s even more of a struggle when we have to lug the laundry to and fro. We had to get a washer and dryer fairly soon.

    Have you ever been to a spa such as this? I will never forget it, that’s for sure.

     

     

     

     

  • Disabilities…

    Disabilities.

    It’s a word that means different things to different people. Some disabilities are seen, and some are unseen. Some are mental and some are physical. Even terrible scars can be a disability.

    I first noticed disabilities when I read a romance many years ago and the male character had something wrong with his hand. I don’t really remember the female character, the setting or even the story line, but I vividly remember the male character. The author wrote the character in such a way that left an indelible impression. I read that book at least three times. I never read a romance twice back then because I remembered every little detail of every story. Today, not so much.

    That long-ago, well-written character wasn’t the reason I sometimes have characters with disabilities in my books.

    My husband was and still is my inspiration for writing these types of characters.

    We met in a chat room in the late nineties and talked online for months before we spoke on the phone. His disability came as a surprise when I first met him. In all that time, he’d never mentioned it.

    I thought perhaps he’d had a stroke at some point because he couldn’t use his left hand all that well. The characteristics were there, and it looked like he might have had something wrong with his left foot as well.

    But here’s the thing… His heart and brain were (and still are) so much bigger than his disability. It was his heart I fell in love with. I didn’t see what he had as a disability, but as a condition he’d learned to live with, just like I have an issue with my neck. People don’t comment on it, but I’m conscious of it and my husband said he noticed it, but it hadn’t bothered him, so why should it bother me.

    To this day (and we’ve been married going on twenty-one years), he will not capitalize on his disability. In fact, he does things himself even if it takes extra time and all his concentration. (We all probably take for granted the everyday things we do when we have two capable hands.) He’s an IT professional and types with one hand. He even served in the military. His disability didn’t stop him from living his life to the fullest, but it defined his out-of-the-box thinking in any life situation including his job.

    My husband was a blue baby. From his baby pictures, you could see the telltale sign that his left hand had problems. At age seven, he was told he had a brain aneurysm and that it could lead to death. When he specifically asked his doctor how long he had, the doctor said he could die at age eight or he could die at eighty. His response was “I choose eighty.”

    That conversation led him to do terrifying and crazy stunts that most rational people wouldn’t do. Even he says he’s surprised he lived through them.

    About ten yers ago, medical advances showed that what the doctors at that time thought was an aneurysm was actually brain damage from birth.

    He now wears a brace on his left leg (much like the ones on the left) and his hand is virtually useless, but he perseveres and will not use a wheelchair. He is determined and will fight for the right to be self-sufficient.

    When we were first married, I overcompensated and tried to help him all the time. He’d get angry with me. I still offer to help, but not as often as back then. When he wants help, he asks for it, but it’s rare.

    When we go to his favorite fast-food place, he tells me to get a table and he’ll bring the food. I cringe when I look around because I know there are folks who are probably thinking, why isn’t she helping him? What they don’t realize is that my husband wants to do things for himself and be a useful member of society. He doesn’t want to be in a wheelchair, nor does he want to be pitied. Most people with disabilities feel the same way he does.

    He’s my greatest cheerleader and while none of my characters have his specific disability, they have other disabilities like intense fear, terrible facial scars, PTSD, and hearing loss.

    I will continue to write romances with a variety of characteristics and hope people will be blessed by the stories I tell.

  • New Year’s Goals and Resolutions, Anyone?

    A look back at 2021

    It was a stressful, agonizing year. In March, an ambulance took my mother to the hospital and then later to a rehab facility. Sadly, she could no longer stay in the home she’d been in for seventeen years, so rehab transferred her to a long-term care facility. And we knew it was the final stop.

    Life is a vapor. It passes by so quickly. And it was never clearer to me than this year.

    From April until September, I traveled to my mother’s condo eight hours away and spent two weeks out of every month going through the accumulations of her lifetime, which included many of my grandmother’s possessions.

    My mother’s place was a showcase for Better Homes & Gardens. She loved to decorate, and it showed in every room of her home. With five adult grandchildren and twelve grandchildren, much of what my mother owned, no one wanted. Some things went to Salvation Army, some things will be sold, and some things were pitched. I kept the best of the best.

    I sorted through vast amounts of paper, photos, and memorabilia that made me cry and saddened me. At one point, my daughters came for the weekend to help sort through her kitchen and dining room. With two china cabinets, one in the dining room and one in the living room, I could tell my daughters stories of the assorted items in her cupboards.

    Memories flooded my soul. What I remember most were the Thanksgiving dinners. It was her holiday to shine and one we all loved. Mom started collecting Franciscan Apple dinnerware almost sixty years ago. Until the manufacturer brought out new pieces back in the late 90s, she owned every piece ever made. The collection is astounding and one I will not part with, even though those fabulous dinners are a thing of the past because family members are scattered all over the east coast. I will take the dining room set because it is something my mother cherished along with those dishes.

    She set the table with fine linen, candles, and a centerpiece. She’d set the table the night before and then got up at four or five in the morning to stuff the bird and get everything ready for a meal at two.

    We haven’t seen a Thanksgiving like that for twenty years. And it’s OK because I have the memories. What is sad is that my grandchildren will never know the fun times we had around the dinner table playing trivial pursuit or cards. Those days are long gone because electronics and Netflix have taken their place.

    There are still many things to do before the home goes on the market in 2022, but I’m on the downside of the hill. Oh, there will be more memories as I transport the many boxes and the dining room to my home, but for now I’m coming to terms with my mother’s passing and that life changes. Sometimes daily.

    I never expected that my mother would die this year. I expected she’d live for another five years, but I’m thankful I also made sure everything I planned for her funeral ahead of time. It eased the stress when I got the phone call. There were still things to take care of, but we banded together and got it done.

    Examining the past helps us to make way for the future, which leads me to resolutions and goals for the New Year.

    Until last year, I set no New Year’s resolutions or goals. It seemed foolish to me. But last year, I decided I needed writing goals. I had made no personal goals, though.

    Aside from the many trips I took, what did I accomplish last year?

    Amid those terrible times, I wrote three books and took classes including a month-long conference which I never completed because my mother passed away right in the middle of the class in October, and I was trying to finish a Christmas novel I planned to publish on Thanksgiving. That didn’t happen, but I worked long hours to ensure the book came out before Christmas, and it did.

    I accomplished one writing goal, and that was to publish four books in 2021. Although one of them was a compilation or boxed set of the first three books in the Women of Worthy series, it still took time and effort to get it published. And I’m taking it as my fourth book. Since I managed  to complete that goal, I’m making the same goal for 2022.

    One of my goals for the new year is to complete the October course so I can get started on book six of my series.

    My goal was to attend one online writing conference, and I attended one and a half.

    So many goals went untouched this year, but I reached those two goals. Considering the year, I’m thankful I achieved them.

    My social media goals? Forget it. Those went by the wayside. But that’s OK because some of them grew despite my lack of attention. And that’s a good thing.

    This year, I will, however, not only have writing goals which I will monitor throughout the year, but I’ll have personal goals. The usual lose weight is always at the top of the list, along with household goals. I’ve set up a calendar with those goals.

    My word for the year is… perseverance. We’ll see how that works out in 2022.

    And my prayer for everyone is to have a much better year next year. Have a safe and prosperous New Year!

     

  • Memorial Day Observance

    When we lived in Germany, we took a road trip to Paris. It was Memorial Day weekend. What surprised us was how disconnected we felt from the “holiday” because the Europeans do not celebrate the day. And why would they? It’s an American holiday. We were given the last Monday in May off because my husband worked for an American company in Germany. Since the company did work for the military, they observed the holiday as well.

    While in Paris, on that Memorial Day Sunday, we visited the Arc de Triomphe. A three-to-four-lane road circles the Arc so to get to it, you have to go underground and walk through a lengthy tunnel. I’ve seen the Arc on television many times but what I didn’t realize is that there is not only an arc front to back but there are arcs on either side. I was blown away by that but was disappointed because the Arc had limited hours that day.

    But this post isn’t about the Arc, it’s about what happened while we were there.

    I wanted a photo of the side of the Arc, so I walked over to the edge of the circle and took some photos. I noticed a man with a VFW hat locking his car door to the left of me. I walked over to him and thanked him for his service (something I always do whenever I see a person in uniform.) Because I don’t speak French, I asked him if he knew why the Arc was closing. He said there was a Memorial Day procession at noon and that we should stay for it. My watch said it was barely 11:30.

    I had no idea the French honor the U.S. Memorial Day! Why hasn’t the media ever talked about that? Since it was a Sunday and not Monday—the day the U.S. celebrates Memorial Day—I didn’t make the connection between Memorial Day and the gentleman with the VFW hat.

       My husband, Ted, sat on a ledge and I told him why the Arc would be closed. He wanted to stay for the event. I joined him for a few minutes to cool off because the temperature soared that day.

    The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was in the front, and it was cordoned off, but we were second in line.

    We had no idea how this event would play out. The VFW man told me a gentleman (from a long-term care facility) who had survived storming the beaches at Normandy would be there. This was history coming alive.

    The French Police came and told us we had to move behind a set of metal barricades. My husband and I turned and moved quickly to get a ring-side spot that allowed the best view. The Star Spangled Banner faintly played and I wondered who played it. French soldiers marched to the front of the tomb and there was a French military band who came around the side and stood opposite the French soldiers. They had been playing our national anthem!

    As we stood there, I turned to see a tall young man with a huge camera. I remarked it was one big lens. He turned and smiled and started a conversation. He and his girlfriend were German. As we talked, he wanted to know what was going on and we gave him an explanation.

    I hesitated because I didn’t want to offend him, but I wanted his opinion on WWII. I think he understood what I meant. He said that it was sad that it happened. He said he didn’t know what he would have done if he had lived in that era and that he was glad he was living now and not then. His response disappointed me, but I wasn’t surprised by it. Five minutes before the event, he and his girlfriend left. That surprised me.

    The Air Force honor guard marched to their spot. Then came the flags. First the U.S. and then the French, followed by various military personnel from each.

    As the soldiers took their places, I was so overcome by emotion I began to cry. Never in my life had a Memorial Day event affected me in such a way. Was it because of the enormity of the war? Or was it because we were on foreign soil? I don’t know, but I remember the pride I felt that America helped liberate the French from the Nazis.

    As the band played the Star-Spangled Banner, my husband saluted, and I began to sing loud and proud. I heard a woman’s voice behind me singing loudly as well, and then other voices joined in. There were more Americans in the crowd than I expected.

    The French then played their anthem. The French soldiers and then the Americans placed wreaths on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

    I’m so glad we chose to go to the Arc first. Otherwise, we would have missed out on the solemn occasion and the once-in-a-lifetime experience.

  • Mother’s Day 2021

    Wishing every mother and/or grandmother who reads this blog post a very Happy Mother’s Day.

    My mother, who turns 92 in June (exactly one week after my birthday), has been slowly deteriorating.

    She has been housebound for several years. With my brother wheelchair bound and me a day’s drive away, we had a caregiver who went to her place twice a day to ensure she ate, got her medication and ensured her physical needs were met. The rest of the time she was all alone. And that bothered me.

    But mentally? She has her good days and her bad days. Some days I’d call, and she didn’t recognize my voice. Other days, she was jovial. And that was cause for celebration.

    But this year has been a particularly tough year for me… and my brother. My mother had to be hospitalized and then taken to long-term care. And while my brother fought this, he realized based on her lack of interest in using her walker and her continued physical frailty, she needed 24/7 care that neither of us could give her.

    The heartbreak of this ordeal has been to clear out decades of stuff from her home. It’s been daunting, and it’s not done yet. While I was going through her garage and donating the vast majority of stuff in there, It struck me that we are born with nothing and we die with nothing. It’s all just “stuff”. Stuff that we don’t need or want.

    I’ve come to terms with my mother’s frailty and the fact that it may not be long before she’s not with us, but rejoice because we still have her… even if it’s just for a little while longer.

    If you still have your mother in pristine health, rejoice and spend time with her. If you don’t, search your memory banks for the sweet times you spent with her and relive them in your heart and mind and know you were blessed to have her.

    So Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. You are loved.