November 27, 2014 Photo (331/365): "Thankful"
"For each new morning with its light, for rest and shelter of the night, for health and food, for love and friends, for everything Thy goodness sends." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
Today and everyday, may we be truly grateful for our endless blessings. Happy Thanksgiving!
November 26, 2014 Photo (330/365): "Wild Goose Chase"
It's cold and snowy, but I would miss the holidays in Wisconsin if I flew south for the winter...
Although a vacation in the sun couldn't hurt!
November 25, 2014 Photo (329/365): "Title Belt"
In 2012, I was the very first recipient of the PHS Title Belt. Today, I am honored to receive it again:
SuperBowl/Title-Belt Salute Of The Week: Melinda Larson-Horne (from Abby Bartz).
“Melinda earns the title belt this week for all the work that she does for the high school, middle school, and the district that goes unnoticed. Her job requires the work of probably 3 or more people at any other business, but she makes her job seem effortless. Melinda is constantly learning new things that she not only shares with the students and staff in the Pewaukee School District, but so many others outside our campus. Her talents are endless. We are so blessed to have a person like Melinda who is passionate about helping others. Congratulations Melinda!"
Thank you to my wonderful colleagues! I, too, am blessed!
November 24, 2014 Photo (328/365): "White"
Suddenly, this afternoon, winter arrived and the world turned white.
November 23, 2014 Photo (327/365): "Lunchbox"
Yesterday, we had some time to kill before meeting friends for dinner in downtown Waukesha, so we decided to browse in a large antique shop on Main Street. Amid the bric-a-brac and array of one man's trash a.k.a. one man's treasure, I spotted this gem: a genuine Hardy Boys lunchbox circa 1977! The ten-year-old girl in me squealed with delight! I actually carried my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to school everyday in a lunchbox just like this. Sometimes, I even had Campbell's chicken noodle soup in the matching thermos.
You see, Shaun Cassidy/Joe Hardy was my very first crush. I was glued to the TV set on Saturday nights, subjecting my parents to every episode of the Hardy Boys Mysteries. In those pre-VCR days, if on the rare occasion we weren't home at 7:00 PM, I would set up my cassette player and an 120-minute TDK tape to record the audio of the show. If I couldn't see Shaun, I could at least hear his voice. And, if I were especially lucky, there would be an episode that featured Shaun singing one of his pop hits like "Da Doo Ron Ron" or "That's Rock 'N' Roll". My dad called him "The Whippersnapper," but I was so enamored of his feathered blond hair, puppy dog eyes, and dreamy voice.
I went to the library every week, and worked my way through all 58 books in the original Hardy Boys Series. I clipped every picture and article I could find in Tiger Beat magazine and saved them in my Shaun Cassidy scrapbook. In the summer of 1978, my mom took me to Alpine Valley to see Shaun in concert where, like thousands of other pre-teen girls, I cried and screamed with delight. That Christmas, Shaun appeared on our doorstep in the form of life-sized cardboard cut-out. Several years later, Cardboard Shaun was the only boy to live in Cobeen Hall at Marquette where the girls on my floor spoiled him with creative outfits and daily kisses. OK, full disclosure: Cardboard Shaun now resides in our basement among the off-season boat gear and Christmas decorations! He has a few new wrinkles, but then, so do I. Over thirty years later, I haven't forgotten my "first love." A few years ago during the final season of the Oprah Winfrey Show, Oprah featured Shaun Cassidy on her teen heartthrobs episode. Apparently, I'm not alone in my nostalgic crush!
.As for that lunchbox, I saved myself $45 and just took a few pictures!
November 22, 2104 Photo (336/365): "Typewriter"
Tonight, I'm at a loss, struggling for inspiration and eloquence. Hemingway famously stated: "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." Papa may have been able to bleed his brilliant words onto countless pages that passed through a typewriter just like this one. Yet, this evening, as my fingers pause over the keys of my Macbook Air, my heart may ache, but it doesn't bleed. There are no words....