I just returned from a Jewish Memorial Service for a Jewish man born in 1954, who died late last week of a massive heart attack.

I did not know him personally, however I am friends with both his younger sister, and his 93 year old mother. Both lovely ladies with whom I have had the pleasure of being on the same council and have business affiliations.

The service (my first ever) was conducted by a woman and it was absolutely beautiful! You did not have to understand the language to feel the compassion and promise of the words she chanted and spoke. It was short in length, solemn, yet peaceful.

The irony of it all is that Mother's are not supposed to outlive their children, and this young son numbered the third of her six sons and daughters to come to the end of their journey.

Birth, journey and death. All very simply put was spoken beautifully in Hebrew. It made it seem so logical in it's order. Family and friends gathered to share memories and happy times with one another. A lovely albeit sad occasion.

Shalom Michael!

While I in my kerchief and Pa in his hat had just settled down for a what?

Yeh, right! No nap in my future. Dinner is at 5:30, boneless prime rib, yorkshire pudding and all the trimmings including a chocolate Birthday Cake for the Christ Child's birthday.

Hours and hours and hours of preparation, gone in a twinkling of the Old Gentleman's eye. A whirlwind of crushed colored paper, tags and ribbons galore, the smiles, the laughter and a whole lot more. Whew, where did the time fly to?

I love Christmas, don't get me wrong, but by and large, it leaves me frazzled and ready to sleep for a day. Last night when I dragged myself off to my new Memory Foam (now where did I put my PJ's) mattress pad, I barely hit the foam before I nodded off to sleep. Can't even remember turning off the tree or the lights, or the TV (or not, as they were still on this a.m.).

At least the sun shone a little bit today so horses could go out and play. Carrots for them tonight, and last night it was peppermint treats while they waited for the soft sound of reindeer (or alpacas as they both sound alike) as they flew up in the sky.

When I took my clothes off last night to ready myself for bed, and believe me it was not a glamour routine, I noticed something remarkable. I glanced at myself in the mirror of the bathroom (hard not to notice yourself when the mirror takes up the wall practically floor to ceiling) and guess what I found missing! "No Wonder Woman Tee Shirt!" I must be getting older and slower, and less picky about the traditions and details. I can't do it all anymore, and guess what else I learned. I don't care!

It's about the family, the smiles, the laughter and love, not about which napkins I used last year and will anyone notice if they are paper or not.

Christmas is love. That's all there is to it. And if it means paper napkins versus cloth, so be it!

Merry Christmas!

Fingerprinting "101"

My friend and next door neighbor is the director of "Covenant Nursery School" and has been for over 25 years. So, if there is anyone who knows how to create children's art projects for Christmas it is the master, my friend Linda.

Daniel and I arrived at Linda's house yesterday to create a special Christmas craft project to give to his Mom and Dad as a gift. Construction paper, washable paint, sponge and spoon and we were ready to begin. Linda placed Daniel's little hand in green washable poster paint, and then placed the "green" hand, fingers spread onto the white paper. Several refills of dipping into the paint were necessary to complete the project. The handprints were placed in a circle to represent a green Christmas wreath. Daniel was thoroughly intrigued by the whole process and very, very attentive. Hands were washed and again the "side of his hand" this time was placed into red paint and transferred to the paper creating a "red bow". Then little red thumbprints placed "holly berries" onto the green wreath.

Voila! A childs work of art. I think the most poignant thing was the label that Linda handed me to place on the front of the project (which I am framing today). It reads:

Here's a gift I made for you. It's quite unique and quaint.

For we have dipped my busy hands in a little bit of paint.

It will help you to remember when I am grown so tall.

That once I was quite little and my hands were pretty small.

So, now on this glad Christmas day, I'm giving this you see.

And on this note I'm glad to say, "Here's lots of love from me"

Christmas 2008

Buckets of Love

My "bucket" run'neth over!" I cannot believe the phone call I received yesterday morning. My friend Linda called me from the Brunswick police station. Linda was helping her husband Bruce "launder" money. That's the term we jokingly use over the past few years for the process of counting the contents of the red kettles that have been brought to the Police station in Brunswick.

Brunswick Police pick up the full kettles that are at KMart, Buehlers, and Giant Eagle, and occasionally during the week at Drug Mart and bring them to the station for safe keeping until Bruce arrives the next morning and counts.

As of Friday of this week, the kettle totals rose over the entire 2007 campaign and if that was not enough of a joy, yesterday's call brought a shout from me as response over my cell phone.

"Judy, this is Linda, are you ready for the news?" "Sure I said" "Well, the count today is $2201.00" I cannot tell you how loud my response was in the car. "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

said I.

Never in my nine year history has there ever been a total from kettles for one day in that amount.

Northern Medina County communities are showing their love. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise!

My cup truly run'neth over!

Go West Young Man!

December 19, thirty years ago found Tim and me driving cross the state of Kansas in the wee hours of the morning. We had left Valley City five days earlier to take a load of Arabian horses to Walnut Valley, California from the Medina Fairgrounds after a training clinic.

Murrel Lacey, noted Arabian horse trainer from Northern California come to Ohio at the request of the Ohio Arabian Horse Association to put on a training clinic, and in addition there was a sale of Arabian horses. Prices were very cheap, and Murrel purchased a half dozen horses to send back to his ranch to be trained and then sold. Tim and I were in the "Horse Business" at the time, including breeding on a small scale, selling horses, selling horse trailers, and transporting horses. So we loaded up the "herd" and headed west.

The trip was relatively uneventful albeit long and on the return trip we had to cross the cold, flat, windy and desolate state of Kansas. "Wind whipping 'cross the plains" in the song "Oklahoma" means nothing compared to snowy 20 degrees below Farenheit Kansas! We had a one ton dually crew cab pick up truck with a 42' long goose-neck slant stall six horse trailer. We were coming back empty (except for the few cases of Coors beer in the back).

Tim was driving and I was asleep on the back seat at about 5:30 a.m. when we pulled in to a truck stop for fuel. Tim came back out to the truck after paying for the gas and woke me up saying "there is a kid in there that needs a ride to Ohio". The truck stop manager spotted our Ohio license plates and asked if Tim could help this boy out. He said the boy had been there all day, and all night with no prospects of hitching a ride. In my half sleep I said " I don't care, just let me sleep"! Gracious as always!

Before I could roll over and cover back up, the passenger door of the truck opened and a disheveled, forlorn young man of about 22 got into the truck. I surveyed his looks: no hat, no gloves, jacket collar pulled up to try and cover his ears, and a large brown grocercy bag under his arm. He appeared shy and quiet sporting a 3 day growth on his chin. He didn't look too prosperous to say the least, nor did he turn to make eye contact with me. "If you are going to rob and kill us, do it fast because I need to get some sleep" said I. Scared him to death!

A couple of hours down the road Tim pulled in to another truck stop for breakfast. Told the young man to come in to the restaurant because it was too cold to stay in the truck. Well, Tim ordered coffee and breakfast, and when the waitress turned to the "boy" he said he wasn't hungry. "Nonsense" said Tim. "He'll have the He-Man special". (and he ate every bite.)

We came to find out that this boy had left home in Springfield, Ohio for greener pastures, and had gotten a job at the Mr. Coffee Plant in California, but the plant closed after he had been there for a couple of years, and he was hitchhiking home to see his Mom for Christmas. We traveled all day and as early dusk approached, we were nearing the Ohio/Indiana stateline. "Could I stop to call my sister to come out to the highway and pick me up?" he asked. "Sure son", said Tim and we pulled over again to let him get out and use the phone. He walked back to the truck just a few seconds later and asked "when did it start costing a quarter to use the phone?" He only had a dime. Needless to say, Tim reached into his jeans pocket.

When we reached the I-70 - Springfield exit, we pulled off the ramp and he got out and thanked us shyly and jumped into his sister's waiting car and they drove off.

Christmas that year was special for us with our young children. Santa and toys and lots of rich food. Sparkly and wondering eyes abounded throughout the week of Christmas. I was just settling down for "my long winter nap" on Christmas afternoon when the phone rang.

Answering, I heard a woman's tired voice say "Is this the Blacksmith and the Redhead's phone number"? "Yes ma'm it is, can I help you?" "Yes, I just wanted to say thank you for bringing my son home to me for Christmas" "Thank you so much" "I wish you a Merry Christmas" She shyly said goodbye.

As I placed the phone into it's cradle a warm glow came over me. What a wonderful gift we had just received.

Somewhere out there is a child waiting for the wonders of Christmas to unfold. And hopefully those wonders are unfolded for them by a loving mother.

Merry Christmas!

p.s. the brown bag contained all of this worldly possession, a collection of 33 rpm records!

The Stockings were Hung by the conference room tables????

That's right! Today at the Salvation Army office in the County Administration Building in Brunswick, a team of Santa's helpers assembled the 125 Christmas stockings to be distributed to needy children in our community.

Only one of my friends that showed up to help had ever been involved in the actual "assembly process". She was practiced and experienced so she could fill them "two by two"! Piles of chocolates, and canes, yo yo's, notepads, Christmas pencils, coloring books and crayons, a red delicious apple snuggled down in the toe, stuffed animals, and you name it were lovingly placed in the stockings with care, (in hopes that these children would not despair!)

On Ruthie and Maggie, on Judy and Barb, on Joan and Judy go Terry and Gerdie (Gerdie?) on Kathy and Judy P. you know the drill. (did I say Judy already?)

There was quiet and humility lined up at tables long. Each friend stuffing stockings was blessed from afar. Your efforts are noticed by folks near and far.

On Christmas, on children both big and small.
On Santa's helpers special friends, some old and some new.

Please come back to the tables next year...............won't you?

"Topper and Sugarfoot"

Snow up to your butt and colder then Billy Hell! That was what was going on the day 30 years ago that Tim "The Blacksmith"and I "The Redhead" broke down in the St. Louis area before Christmas. We had a horse trailer dealership in Valley City, and we were driving back from Chickasha, Okla. with a new trailer on top of the bed of the truck, and pulling a new trailer behind when the hitch broke, leaving us stranded at a truck stop. Word spreads fast among truckers in a truck stop, and before long, a little white haired man and his wife stopped to give us a hand. They had received a call from a trucker on their "home based CB radio" and drove the 20 miles or so to meet us, and offer us help. "Topper and Sugarfoot" (their CB handles), also known as Otto and Marie Horn came into our lives.

He was short and sweet with snow white hair and an elf like appearance. Sugarfoot was warm and smiley and just like "Aunt Bee" from Mayberry. Topper was a retired trucker and expert welder, and they guided us, limping along to their home.

Problem fixed, they cooked us dinner, lots of hot coffee filling our thermos, wished us well, hugs and kisses and a lifelong friendship was formed.

They visited us once in Valley City, making a stop on a vacation trip across the U.S. They spent the day, dinner served, lots of hot coffee in a thermos to go.....you know the rest.

Not the kind of friendship where we religiously planned stops, but we always knew each other was there.

Topper is gone now, meeting new friends and offering his skills on a heavenly highway....but Sugarfoot's CB radio is always on.

Marie still calls once a year, and sends a card at Christmas.

"Hey there, this is Sugarfoot.......calling to say hello to the Blacksmith and the Redhead"!

"Back at you Marie!"

.....diet is a four letter word!

They call it "diet" because all of the other four-letter words were taken! Dieting is what I am trying to do for the Christmas holidays. How absurd! I could eat Christmas cookies and candies round the clock, and truly I have been known to do that. The story goes that I sat and ate a 40 oz. bag of Hershey Kisses in one sitting. Actually, I moved around a bit and sat in several chairs and a sofa and that required walking to and from.

I have good intentions, but no will power. How can a person who quit smoking "cold turkey" 8 years ago, not be able to curb my appetite for cookies and chocolates? I need to start baking and making candy. I think that is the only way I can avoid the dreaded millions of calories. If I bake it, I am not want to eat it! Go figure!

All will not be lost if I can just get the impulsion to go into the kitchen and start the Holiday prep.

Anyway, 4 letter words shouldn't be used during a Holy Holiday!

The Last Supper.....tongue in cheek!

Yesterday I joined the agents in my office in celebration of the Christmas Season at a luncheon in Strongsville at the Macaroni Grille. 12 of us shared a table and as with any group that have been together for a long time we started to reminice (sp?). Some of us have been together for 22 years. We have seen changes in our profession as well as changes in our company name. But we as "the team" came together for the "Last Supper" so to speak to share one final meal as the Realty One Team.

We went from Miller-Bishop Realtors, to Miller-Bishop HGM Realtors, to Realty One, and now to Howard Hanna gold, our newest company purchaser. It is strange to say the least. New colors, new forms, new business cards, new team mates, but the same old core of professionals.

Mollie, Bill, Sheila, Marcia and me. That is all that is left of the group that I started with 22 years ago, when I had just gotten my license. We are on our fourth manager and for awhile we sort of floated adrift as our longtime manager Marie was battling a critical illness.

When I joined the firm we were in a former bank building and Bill and his cohort Louis shared their space in the old bank "vault". There were times that the two good old boys could have been locked in....but they weren't. We were a great company of agents, loyal and trustworthy, tried and true, back in the days of the Multiple listing books that we carried like sacred vessels ... to the new computer savy agents that we have become.

We have a great staff and a great manager. They all care for us and about us. The change has been bittersweet as we are all a little older and a little longer in the tooth. But we are giving it our best shot and we will come out fighting in 2009.

Thank you to Jim and Amanda for your sincere and caring help and comfort through all of this.

We shared our last meal as Realty One agents, and shared our first meal as Howard Hanna agents.

Some famous person said "People don't care about you until they know how much you care!"

Thank you all for caring!

The Task is to Ask!

Throughout my years as a member of the Women's Council of Realtors, I learned a very important lesson for life....The Task is to Ask!

As coordinator for the Salvation Army Kettle campaign, I also took on another task, that of obtaining 100 to 125 Christmas Stockings and all of the items that are needed to fill them for kids.

Over the past 4 years that I have been doing "find and fill stockings" the response to my "Asking" has been overwhelming. But this year tops the charts! Yesterday a huge box of small trinkets and toys arrived from a friend's purchase through the Oriental Trading Company. A banker friend of mine called and volunteered to purchase the 125 stockings to fill. This morning, a person from another organization that I belong to brought 8 boxes of coloring books, crayons, little kids trinkets, and 100 beany babies. Last week realtor friends brought 125 stuffed animals, 100 or more pounds (yes, I said pounds) of candy, coloring books, crayons, and yesterday a little red wagon appeared. Even my Jewish friend did a whirlwind tour of the candy department at Walmart on the East side of Cleveland, buying candy canes and miniature chocolate bars.

The 4H club that I used to advise in the 70's is now headed by one of my former 4Her's and they sent 125 extra large size candy bars. I made a request for 125 apples to be donated by the produce department at Buehler's in Brunswick, and was advised that I had 8 other donation requests ahead of me. Sigh! Not much hope was given for my #9 request.

The list goes on. Each time a candy cane or toy is brought into my office, I am humbled again by the generosity of my friends and affiliates. The word "overwhelmed" is becoming pale to describe my faith in mankind. What greater joy could I have at this giving and blessed time of year?

Oh, and by the way.....the produce manager called me at 1:00 yesterday afternoon. "Judy, this is Joanne at Buehlers, I wanted to talk to you about your request". "Yes, Joanne, I know that we were way down the list, so I understand if you can't help out". "That's why I called....we put you up at the top of the list. We love the Salvation Army, and you can come and get your apples for the stocking on the 16th".

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!

Last evening I attended the Steering Committee meeting of the Valley City Bi-Centenniel Committee at the meeting room in the town's Depot. A lovely old building that has been lovingly restored to its original decor. This Depot is home to the Valley City (I should say Liverpool Township) Historical Society. The Bi-Centenniel is in the year 2010, but of course you can't wait to start projects that commemorate the occasion until the last minute.

The committee is planning to publish a publication of the 200 year history of the Township, which was the first settlement in Medina County. The "Book" is to be a glossy and slick color representation of area families, farms, businesses, military veterans, memorials, and offers corporate sponsorships. This book will be costly to print so we are having lots of fund raising projects to support the venture.

One of the committee members asked to speak to the fundraising committee on the subject of
a proposed grant application. It was made known that the "Strossacker Foundation" located in Midland, Michigan was founded by a local native, Charles Strossacker, who was born here in Valley City, attended school here, graduated from both Baldwin Wallace College and Case Western Reserve as a physicist and went on to be the VP of Dow Chemical Company in Midland.

It was brought to our attention that this successful man who was the inventor of several things that are now household words; Saran Wrap, and styrofoam to name a few, founded the foundation which is named after him to promote science, education and related subjects in the Midland area, but grants have been awarded out of the that geographical location.

What a good idea! Maybe the fact that the man was born and raised here in Valley City, and the two local colleges each have buildings named after him, and those buildings have funding in perpituity for ther maintenance will have some tug on the heartstrings of the Board of Directors that grant the wishes of fund seekers. I certainly hope so. The home he was born in on Station Road, is beautifully restored, and is a signature landmark on the western edge of the Township.

What a brilliant man! As the committee member was making his pitch for the necessity of writing a grant application, my mind wandered a bit.

Why couldn't this brilliant man who invented Saran Wrap, get the damn stuff to stick to what you want it to stick to instead of itself, your hand, the counter or the box it came in?

Christmas 2008

Last Friday I was scurrying around trying to get the days’ tasks done. You know, feeding and watering the horses, (breaking the ice in the buckets and filling them with fresh water) taking the dog out for a walk, making sure the barn cat, "Miss Kitty" had food and water all before 9:00 a.m. I had a big day planned and lots of things would come up that were not planned.

My cell phone rang on and off most of the day with people calling to ask about volunteering for the Salvation Army Red Kettle Campaign. I am the coordinator for the volunteers that ring the bell. Our campaign runs from the day before Thanksgiving this year and goes until Christmas Eve, six days a week, 12 hours a day at each of three locations and one location on Saturday only. Kind of hectic and frantic, what with worrying if I can find 36 people a day to ring the bell. This has become such an important part of my life during the Christmas season, that there is not much room left over for a lot of holiday prep for my family or myself. Yet, being a mother and grandmother, I am in that "guilt the gift that keeps on giving" mode (you know your mother gave it to you, and you will give it to your children) approach to the work that needs to be done. You are required to do it all, baking, decorating, shopping, being a realtor and helping to take care of our 3-1/2 year old grandson Daniel when needed. Kind of a nerve-wracking day.

I was a little distracted when I had to leave to drive to Brunswick to pick up Daniel from daycare. I get many calls on my cell phone this time of year and I know it is not the wisest thing to drive and use the phone, but I do use the "speaker option" to make it safer. As I got Daniel settled and strapped into his car seat, my phone rang. Answering a number that I did not recognize, "Hello, this is Judy" a voice timidly asked if this was the right number to call to volunteer to ring the bell. "Yes it is, and thank you for calling". A few questions from the caller determined that this was something she would like to volunteer for and could I schedule her for an hour of ringing.

I had started to drive away from the daycare center when the phone had rung and so I had the caller on speaker. Meanwhile Daniel was in the backseat chattering away and I tried to shush him, "Daniel, Nana is on the phone". To no avail, Daniel kept up his banter saying "Nana, I have to tell you something" "Not now Daniel, Nana is on the phone" "But Nana, I have to tell you something" each time he spoke his voice was a little louder. I turned my head and after covering the phone speaker said in a loud voice, "not now Daniel, I am on the phone, and if you don’t be quiet, there will be no surprise for you when you get to Nana’s house"

Why do children wait to have a conversation with you when the phone rings? Daniel’s voice got louder, My voice got louder. I finally had to end the phone conversation abruptly apologizing saying I would call back when I reached my home office.

"Daniel, what was so important that you could not wait to tell me until I got off of the phone?"

"Nana, I wanted to tell you something" "Nana, I love you!"

His words took my breath away. Gone was the feeling of pressure and anxiety. I was humbled by the words spoken by this sweet innocent child.

"I love you too Daniel".
What more can I say. Isn’t this what the Christmas season is all about!
Merry Christmas to you and yours!

Dear Friends,

I received an email with this information from a friend in the "Horse Network"..the author wrote....After I heard what Madeleine Pickens proposed to do for America’s wildhorses I wrote the National Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame and said I would like to nominate Mrs. Pickens for induction. (In case you don't know, Madeline Pickens, wife of T. Boone Pickens paid to adopt all 30,000+ wild mustangs held in pens bythe Bureau of Land Management, who would be slated for euthansia). I figured they would take the hint and nominate her themselves, but noooooooo.

Instead, they sent me the nomination form and said I could go ahead and fill out the paperwork, making sure I had it in by January 15. Part of the process is getting supporting letters for the induction; i.e., letters from relevant parties recommending the induction. Would y’all like to write a letter? I figure if everyone on the list who figures this was something worthy of being called a cowgirl, there could be thousands of letters, especially if everyone forwarded this letter and request everyone they knew comply, by writing a letter.



Who knows? Madeleine Pickens might bethe first Cowgirl Hall of Famer to be inducted on the basis of nationalpopularity!Letters should be addressed to:National Cowgirl Museum and Hall of Fame Attn: Nomination 1720 Gendy Street, Fort Worth, TX 76107

Here’s a chance to thank the woman who decided she was going to save the mustangs. Please write a letter, and also forward this message to everyoneyou know. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.

Cowgirl up!

Reindeer tracks

Somewhere in the near North, Santa has lost a deer or two. No joke! I swear I saw one in my front yard today. Well, maybe not an actual reindeer, but close enough for government work.
As I was walking down the driveway to pick up the mail, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. Yep, a deer alright, right out there near the pond in the yard under the
golden delicious apple tree.

Now as cold as it has been, those fallen apples must have been like frozen road apples! He was
placidly munching away, not a care in the world! I should think not, as the deer season (the special 2 day gun event) had just ended on the 7th. Yesterday to be sure he was not in sight anywhere, just tucked up into a nice furry ball under a pine tree somewhere waiting for the "thunderous shots" to dissipate.

This is one smart cookie, and he will be free until next year, providing that he stays out of the road! No headlights tonight please. it's too close to Christmas.

I know he will find the two big apple trees out back which host a different breed of apple. But to be sure equally "delicious".

God's creatures great and small, we should love them all.