Three on Thursday – Three Doors

Door of Memories

The last time I entered this door,
I was flooded with memories.
This was my dream house;
when I didn’t even know my dream looked like.
We lived and loved and learned and lost
behind this door for 13 years.
Weddings, births, Christmases, Birthdays,
Family nights, the-doors-are-open nights.
all those happened behind this door.
Chicken and rice, pot roast with all the fixings,
ham with cloves and dressing, grilled cheese,
Roundtable Pizza and Hing’s Chinese food
(home delivery please)
Strawberry shortcake, chocolate chip cookies,
bread pudding with whiskey sauce, brownie sundaes,
chocolate cake/vanilla icing and
vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup ‘up-a-top’!
Yep, we ate it all behind this door.
Books read in front of a stone fireplace,
knitting while listening to a book on tape,
quilts were pieced and quilted
behind this door.
Sometimes it seemed the walls would burst.
Sometimes it was very loud with laughter.
Sometimes tears flowed like a river.
I gathered all my memories close to my heart,
before I walked out this door for the last time.


Door of expectations

Behind these doors:
color books with coloring pens and pencils,
Christmas decorations,
a suitcase or two
yarn in boxes and bags
fabric sorted by projects, type, maybe someday
a couple sewing machines,
an ironing board
buttons, snaps, zippers, thread, needles,
scissors, lots of scissors
cutting mats, rulers, rotary cutters
patterns for clothing, aprons,
knitting, crochet, counted x-stitch
office supplies, cards and note paper,
crochet hooks and knitting needles
of many types and designs
wood, plastic, aluminum stainless steel, glass
cheap, expensive, short, long,
straights, double pointed and circular
games and puzzles
clothes that don’t fit
shoes and boots
a desk and a chair
and some other stuff
Everything expectantly waiting.

Door of adventures

How many trips have started by opening this door . . .
weekly errands,
groceries, bank, post office, cleaners,
chiropractor and doctors appointments
visits with children close in town
visits with family farther away
quiet times with a book
eating lunch behind the steering wheel,
downtown Sacramento, just because
day trips:
quilt shop hops,
San Francisco,
Half Moon Bay,
Ruth Bancroft nursery,
South shore Lake Tahoe
Bodega Bay,
Fernley, Nevada ūüėČ
Grass Valley,
Monterey/Pacific Grove,
Washington State Quilt shop hop
to the airport, Hawaii, Georgia, New York, Illinois, Florida
2007 Topcrain Journey, 10,000+ miles
2017 Topcrain Journey2, 13,000+ miles
and the door is still open
coz’ I haven’t seen it all yet.

I didn’t expect all of this today.
Linking with Carole’s Three on Thursday here.

Published in: on February 22, 2018 at 3:31 pm  Comments (2)  
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Ripley Treasures

Years ago Grandma Hattie Ripley gave me two old quilts she had made. Just utility quilts one fabric front and back with two opposing ends covered to protect the quilt from face oils and drool. I loved these quilts, not that they were beautiful, though I thought so, but because Grandma made them and they smelled like Grandma’s house.


¬†Hattie and Fred Ripley, my mother’s parents.

Yesterday while in our sea-crate, filling the cat box with liter, I noticed the floor seemed damp. Looking around to see if I could find the reason for the damp, I saw a 3 foot long fabric bag on the floor, wet and dirty. My heart sank when I opened the bag and saw Grandma’s quilts.

I took them to Aaron’s, dog/cat sitting this weekend.

Whispering a prayer, I washed and dried them one at a time.


This pink and grey flannel quilt came out in pretty good condition. It has always needed hand stitching repair to the ends. the backing is a heavy cream cotton.


This pink plaid with green end protectors (all flannel type fabrics) has always been my favorite, even though I had never seen it. The green/pink rose cotton floral, in the below picture, was used as a duvet cover. While putting the quilt in the dryer, it was just a wadded mess. So I pulled the cover off and shoved quilt and cover in the dryer. I love the way it cleaned up. I won’t put the cover back on. I’ll repair the ends coming loose.




I love it just like it is, clean and fresh, memories still intact.


And it is Stinger approved.

When You Find . . .

When you find an old blog, February 22, 2013,
and it makes your heart hurt with pride;
reposting is necessary.

In just five minutes. Tell me all about what your mama did that made her yours….


my mama took care


when we were small

mama took care of us

Mondays she washed our clothes
Tuesdays she ironed
Wednesdays she mended

I don’t remember if she had a special task for the other days

she once said, “I really enjoy caring for my family.’

dinner was ready the minute daddy came home

as we grew older she continued to care

a tape measure was taken to the thrift shop
to measure inseams and skirt lengths

accounting was kept for daddy’s business

as we grew older, still

she worked at home in the evenings
and in the public during the days

when she and dad owned motels,
business decisions were jointly made
she was an equal partner

when retirement came
she reaped for her labors

when Alzheimer came
she continued to care
I could not count the times I heard

‘I’m sorry.
I don’t understand what you are trying to tell me.
It is the Alzheimers that is causing the problem.
Let’s try again later.”


“We will take care of each other because we love each other.”

today cancer grows in the brother that lives with mama

yes, you’re right, she’s caring

my mama cares so much, it makes my heart ache with pride.

I love you, mama


pictures added after 5 minute ding.

To bring up to date
today the brother’s cancer is in remission
yet she still cares
as he deals with the aftermath of treatment and surguries
my heart still aches with unending pride.
I will forever love you, mama.

Published in: on July 8, 2016 at 4:31 am  Comments (2)  
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June 11, Today’s thoughts — Summer

On the hot summer days, I long for the cold brisk air at Donner Lake during a light snow fall.

Bed in Summer by Robert Louis Stevenson

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

I went looking for a summer poem, no, it’s not quite summer, but that is where my mind wandered. When I found this poem, I smiled, remembering. It just didn’t seem right at all, when as a child I had to go to bed in the light.
Now naps are good, anytime.
But going to bed…… is always very dark.

Psalm 121:4 Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

Trust God for your day. . .Today
With my prayers, desiring yours, Leslie

Published in: on June 11, 2012 at 11:14 am  Leave a Comment  

Five Minute Friday on Monday — Brave


Around here we write for five minutes flat on Fridays.


Where your words are welcome, just as they are!

Prompt is Brave.


Last week I commented on a blog where I have visited several times and ended with “if I were brave enough…..”

That was the prompt I needed to write about being brave. I don’t think I am.

So it  seems I missed a lot.

I was the one as a child who said we better not do that    I was afraid.

In high school I didn’t learn to play tennis because I was afraid of what I would look like¬† and that I wouldn’t be able to do it.

When asked what I wanted to do with my life I didn’t speak up, because I was afraid.

I said¬† ‘oh, I knit a little bit’ —- because i was afraid I didn’t knit as well as others, even though, I put on my children items I had made,

and that blog, just series of pictures, I can take pictures.   I have posted pictures,  I have  shared pictures on my blog and on Facebook.

I don’t take pictures for them.

I take pictures for me.

I don’t have to look over others shoulders to have fun

I don’t have to be afraid

AFRAID,       Shut up!

I can and I will be brave enough to climb the ‘afraid’ mountain.


I went over time and reading it. Afraid whispers, this isn’t smooth, it is rough, it is not as good as, why do¬† you think you can do this. . .

I said “Publish!”

Joining Lisa Jo at Gypsymama and many others being brave enough.

Published in: on March 19, 2012 at 10:06 am  Comments (2)  

Where I come from. . .

Reflecting on where I come from. . .

  • from stock that left Oklahoma to come to California for a better life
  • from a family that didn’t understand in-laws/out-laws — ¬† just family
  • from being the oldest of 5 children and the only girl
  • from 4 of us sleeping in one bedroom and pulling the baby in bed with me when he fussed
  • from Sunday dinners at Grandpa & Grandma Ripley’s, you could smell the oven baked chicken in the driveway
  • from the adults playing cards and being allowed to watch if you were silent and didn’t touch anything
  • from having to eat everything on my plate, even the stone cold sweet potatoes
  • from hours of playing Aggravation on the board Daddy made
  • from a week with a cousin at G & G Ripley’s,
    • picking out any cereal we wanted,
    • riding the cultivator with Grandpa,
    • catching the clothes as they came out of the wringer into the wash tub,
    • picking and stringing green beans for canning
    • putting on good clothes for a trip 15 miles into town for errands and lunch out. Grandma wore stockings (she put on wearing gloves to protect from snags) and shoes with low heels
    • sleeping in a room with a bee hive in the wall
    • using the outhouse when the indoor bathroom was busy
    • eating grapefruit that had sugar sprinkled on it the night before
    • knowing I was loved
  • from coming home from school on Tuesday’s and smelling starch from the ironing done that day
  • from learning to embroider at 6 years old
  • from going to Sunday School and learning ‘The Wise Man Built His House Upon A Rock’
  • from learning to make cornbread from scratch at about 9 years old
  • ¬†(I still use the same recipe)
  • from the year the Easter dress wasn’t new, and my only shoes were tennies with a hole at the little toe. Mom washed them white and darned the hole¬† and we had Easter dinner at Grandma Ripley’s.
  • from changing schools in the 5th grade and not liking riding the bus or the new school
  • from making my first quilt at 11 years old
  • from a Dad who could see the possibilities
  • from walking to the Sanger library every week in the summer and buying a brown paper bag of sunflower seeds from the bulk bin at the 5 & 10 on the way home
  • from driving Clif’s Triumph Spitfire to school my senior year for two week s until he got his license
  • from a Dad who built a 4 seat merry-go-round with a center platform for all
  • from a Mom who before I was born made me a rag doll from¬† a pattern, embroidering the face, adding yellow yarn for braids, picking the cotton for stuffing, sewing the dress and panties. I still have the pieces of the doll, body,¬† arms and legs, hair is gone, dress is gone………the love has never changed.
  • from suppers ready exactly at 5:00pm
  • from meeting a young man at 17 years old
  • from getting engaged January, 1967
  • from walking out of my family’s front door on my father’s arm, down the grassy aisle, to a gladiola decorated arch to exchange vows with the man who would become the Farmer

In this blogging world sometimes we play ‘follow the leader’. Mary (oldest daughter) followed Ann, a friend and¬† I’m following Mary, whose next?

Published in: on March 10, 2012 at 4:01 pm  Comments (1)  

{this moment} March 9

Joining with;   {this moment} РA Friday ritual. A single photo Рno words Рcapturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Not this week, but I moment I don’t want to forget.

To see other’s moments go here.

Published in: on March 9, 2012 at 12:53 pm  Comments (4)  

Five Minute Friday — Empty, Yet Full

We lie down in our words and make snow angels.We try to remember what it was like to just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.

Snow angels come in all sizes and shapes, so our words reflect us and it is not until we get up, turn around and look – that we see. . .

Today’s prompt¬† —¬† Empty


It was the last day I would ever walk in the house that had been my home for the previous 13 years.

I picked up the leavings,
the last of the remnants of the life lived

I check the closets, the drawers, the cupboards

I looked in all the rooms,
gazed up at all 12 of the skylights,
dusted the mantle of the river rock fireplace,
and finally mopped the hard wood floors for the last time.

I listened and heard

laughter and raised voices
singing and prayers
whispered dreams and loud defiance
cat purrs, dog barks, bird singing
candles, birthday cakes, Mom’s meatloaf, family nights,
thankfuls around the circle

The house was empty, quiet and still

My eyes will tears overflowing

My heart with so many memories . . . full.


To read about other’s emptiness go here

Published in: on March 9, 2012 at 11:01 am  Comments (11)  

One Thousand Gifts — February Joy Dare, part 2

One Thousand Gifts in2012

February Joy Dare‚Äďcapturing these gifts and joining Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience.

‚ÄúJoy is always a function of gratitude ‚ÄĒ and gratitude is always a function of perspective. If we are going to change our lives, what we‚Äôre going to have to change is the way we see.‚ÄĚ

February 11  3 gifts found in working

The gift of a job well done

The gift of accomplishment  for persevering when learning a new knitting pattern and finally figuring it out.

The gift of rest after hard toil

February 12   3 hard eucharisteos

The estrangement  and the healing between my daughter and I.

The losing of our business and home, opening the door to new possibilities.

The illness I experienced when¬† at 19 the drs. gave me a week to live; married 15 months with a premature daughter. The Lord giving me the promise in Psalms 91¬† with long life I will satisfy ….44 years ago.

February 13  3 gifts you found behind a door today

The gift of a straightening after finding a mess in the cupboard where we toss empty plastic/paper bags

The gift of a fresh morning after opening the front door for the first time this morning

The gift of opportunity to create when I open the door of my Stash Home.

February 14  3 ways you feel the love of God

I feel God’s love in every sunset.
I feel God’s love in the Farmer’s arms.
I feel God’s love as I bow before Him in prayer.

February 15

A gift in losing something¬† —¬† During my first miscarriage I learned God could take me through what I had feared and ‘the anchor holds’.

A gift in finding something¬† —¬† finding ‘contentment in whatsoever state I’m in’

A gift in making something¬† —

February 16 3 gifts in shadows

Care¬† —¬† Psalms 17:8¬† Keep me as the apple of the eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings,

Comfort¬† —¬† Psalm 23:4¬† Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Hope¬† —¬† 1Corinthians 13:12¬† For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

February 17 3 gifts giving/serving

The gift to be able organize the planning, preparation and serving of the yearly Church of God fellowship meeting meals.

The gift of hearing¬† ‘this is tasty’ when serving a new recipe.

The gift of being able to care for my mother-in-law occasionally.

February 18  3 gifts on paper

Gift of instructions to learn how to knit, I taught myself initially, and since all the written patterns and books I’ve read that increased that knowledge

¬†Gift of the first birthday card I received from the Farmer on my 18th birthday, “Fun being young, wasn’t it!”

¬† Gift of books, books, books, all kinds¬† — ¬† children’s, novels, poetry, devotionals, instructional, cookbooks. . .

February 19¬† 3 gifts that were “plan B’s”

I haven’t consciously set goals or made definite plans for my life that have failed. I mostly have just taken life as it came and¬† tried to do the best I could.¬† That is the Gift I was given, acceptance.

This isn’t a picture of¬† me, just the attitude I strive for.

February 20  a gift at breakfast lunch and dinner

The gifts of my favorite foods:

Breakfast¬† –¬† Chicken Fried Steak at the Coffee Pot (no longer in business, but it wasn’t my fault).

Lunch¬† –¬† Bacon, tomato and avocado sandwich with a cup of tomato soup.

Dinner¬† —¬† recipe from Mom¬† — meatloaf¬† !

Gifts 240-268

Published in: on February 19, 2012 at 6:14 pm  Leave a Comment  

One Thousand Gifts and a Scripture

Adding to my One Thousand gifts:

101.  This cat, Busterford Jones, who moved to Cozy Acres scared and untrusting, has adapted and become the #1 lap cat. I get this look if the computer is in his way.

102. Ideas from a quilt show.

103. I am very thankful for my mom. She is such an example of the Proverbs 31 woman. Thank you.

I am very thankful for my home.

104. This cozy spot where I write, knit, read, eat, doze, hold cats, rock babies, gaze out the door, pray and weep.

105. This is the cozy spot where I create .

106. This is my cozy kitchen most of the time it is neater than this but I love the way the light played in this picture.

107. Here is the Farmer’s cozy spot.

108. And COZY, though it may be, I am thankful for indoor plumbing. Please excuse the camera strap.

I thankful for memories, still, of cruise taken in 2009, with these dear-to-my-heart people.

109. On our way to dinner in New York City.

110. Checking out New York City.

111.  Quebec City

112. A carriage ride in Quebec City.

113. A real gift- to be able to cruise with the Farmer.

114. The trip of our life time ‘from sea to shining sea’ in 2007.

115. A favorite memento from ‘the trip’ – The Story Teller, purchased in New Mexico.

And a Scripture:
. . .   trust . . .  in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy; 1Timothy 6:17

linking with:

Five Minute Friday — Remember

On Fridays around these parts we stop, drop, and write.

For fun, for love of the sound of words, for play, for delight, for joy and celebration at the art of communication.

For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Unscripted and unedited. We just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.

Today’s prompt¬† —¬† Remember


My first memories, I’m five years old

the first memories that are really mine, not told me or something explained from a picture.

These memories have my feelings, my pictures in my head.

these memories are real.

I don’t dwell on memories.

When I went through a period of sickness;

I learned to forget yesterday

just live today

and leave tomorrow with God.

that was my way of coping.

But when I do remember

I’ve learned that :

what I remember is my memory

and that for another person experiencing the same situation the memory may be completely different.


To read more ‘Five Minute Friday’ posts go here:

Published in: on November 5, 2011 at 12:03 am  Leave a Comment  

The Saga of the Bologna Sandwich

It was time to make cornbread for family night.¬† Mary was making jambalaya and fried zucchini so cornbread seemed to be the proper compliment. What about Cajun cornbread instead of the tried and true version I’ve been making since I was 8 years old.

Where else to look for a recipe in these modern days but Google.¬† came up with several versions. I didn’t have all the ingredients for any of them. So while pondering do I fake it, do I run ūüôā to the store and buy stuff, or…….. when I saw listed¬† —¬† Bologna Sandwich.

I couldn’t help myself …………….

Buy some ham or bologna (one pack) and some bread (one loaf) and buy a little jar of mustard. Then you make yourself a bologna sandwich. Put the bread down on the table, put the bologna on it. Spread the mustard on the bologna. Put another piece of bread on the bologna, then eat it with some milk. Then clean up.

and  5  PAGES  of comments. Talk about a walk down memory lane.


with white bread

with mustard

with mayo

with lettuce, tomato, pickles

with Miracle whip

with peanut butter (I’ve never done that one)

Fried bologna

Babs – Am I the only person who’s fried bologna makes a big bump in the middle?

Fran  Рyes it will make a bump in the middle! You take a knife and make a slice in the middle, then slice the outside rim (4-5 slashes around) for it not to curl!

Fried called a Flat Dog Sandwich

Grilled  with cheese

Ghetto steak and cheese:¬† from Bid Daddy¬† “OK here’s what you really do… butter 2 slices of bread and place the bologna and Sharp Cheddar in between them… now place the sandwich in the skillet buttered side down… basically your making a grilled cheese sandwich with a Lil flat hotdog in the middle… now enjoy what me and my kids call “ghetto steak and cheese sandwiches” camping favorite…. don’t forget the strawberry soda and the potato chips…..”

Isabella said, “OK here’s the deal. Cut all the crust off of two slices of white bread. The fresher the bread, the better. Then put a slice of bologna on one slice of bread, and mustard on the other slice of bread. Put them together like a sandwich and with your hand press down on the sandwich until the mustard squishes out and the bread is as thin as the bologna. It’s so good this way and your sandwich won’t fall apart. I guarantee.”

Robert added, “I am a food vender. I cook bologna on a smoker grill. I cook with wood, people love it. I put cheese on it with a little mayo and a tomato on it but I call this Kentucky round steak. They love this at the fair’s.”

Noelle replies¬† “Wow, who knew that a simple recipe would evoke such a passionate & nostalgic response? All the recipes sound great. My grandfather used to fry a piece of bologna in an iron skillet & place a square of American cheese on top while in the pan just so the cheese would melt ever so slightly. The square on the circle looked so neat to me as a child. He called it a flying saucer because the balogna would bump up in the center. You can bet that all of us grandkids were eager to eat something with such a cool name.”

Remember this:¬† from Hanna – When I was a kid, the greatest snack was a piece of bologna and eat two holes for your eyes then a hole for your mouth and its tons of fun! I’ll have to try frying my bologna – that sounds yummy!

International :  All Austinians know fried boloney is elephant ears, and all off the aforementioned recipes are just as good with spam if you add melted brown sugar & butter. Boloney & gym, here I come =:)  Hormel Baby

I would never have thought of this from Francis

“John, from Wisconsin, I have enjoyed reading all of these recipes, but loved your remark, before you clean up, make sure you offer your mother one, since I am a mother. I am for the deep fried bologna, dipped in milk, not water, followed by immersion in flour, then fried in bacon drippings, followed by deep fried tomato slices, loaded onto cheap rainbow or sunbeam bread, smeared liberally with mayonnaise. If you must have mustard, open the jar, set it in the middle of the table and stick a flower in it for ambiance.”
(Apparently she doesn’t like mustard.)

Thanks for the help:

Thanks I’m just learning how to cook. This one really helped, anyone have a recipe to peanut butter and Jelly? – Marcy

OMG … mom use to make a sandwich just like this one. I lost the recipe years ago,I never thought I’d EVER find it again. Bless you for posting it. My kids and I thank you ūüôā¬† -Denise

Thanks so much!! This is my husband’s favorite meal and my mother in law would never give me the recipe (she even took the recipe card out of her box when we house sat). I’m going to run out to the store and make this for him tonight. I’ll show her!!¬† Debbie

Jennifer —¬† Back home in Minnesota, we didn’t eat much bologna. We ate SPAM. Fry the SPAM, golden brown on both sides, toast and butter your bread, then slather with Miracle Whip, add the fried SPAM, and you have yourself a serious Northern meal!

But that’s a different subject!

I had so much fun reading¬† and remembering——–Mom, “go to the store get 1/2 lb. bologna, 1/2 lb, chopped ham )you do know what chopped ham is, don’t you?), 1/2 lb. salami and a loaf of Wonder bread.”¬† It was time for lunch!

Here’s where to go to see this for your self.,169,145181-224202,00.html  

Thanks to for such a delightful time of smiles, snickers and wishes for bologna in the fridge.

Oh, I ran out of time looking at bologna that I had to make the plain jane¬† cornbread. ūüôā

Published in: on October 24, 2011 at 10:13 am  Leave a Comment