Category: Family

Laughter, the Best Medicine?

Written in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:

Roaring Laughter

What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?

Not this past Christmas, but the one before, Studly Doright and I met our kids and grandkids in Nashville, Tennessee, for the holiday. Our son and his family live in Texas. Our daughter and her family reside in Illinois. Studly and I are in Florida, so it’s a treat when we can all be together.

Rather than stay in a hotel we rented a home for the week, and made it into a temporary Doright Manor. We had a first rate time cooking and eating and playing games with the grown kids and grandkids. 

One night, though, we sat the kids down in front of a movie in one room while in another the grownups played the game Cards Against Humanity. There might have been a bit of drinking involved. And by a bit, I mean copious amounts of liquor were consumed.

Our son-in-law, Stephen, having moonlighted as a bartender, knows how to mix a drink and soon had us all giggling like school children even before we started playing the game. Then the competition began.

Now if you’ve never played Cards Against Humanity you have no idea what you’re missing out on. I laughed so hard that tears rolled down my face–deep, strong belly laughs that caused my jaws and cheeks to ache well into the next week. 

 If laughter truly was the best medicine the Doright family could have cured every disease known to man that week. Instead, we just had a wicked good time.

Peace, people!


Caution–the game is not for the easily offended. There are references to body parts and bodily functions that aren’t often mentioned in polite company. Of course Studly and I never were much for polite company.

Weather Relativity

I live near Tallahassee, Florida. Today I’m out piddling around town until it’s time to check in at the Tallahassee Animal Shelter for my weekly gig as a volunteer kitten cuddler. As you can see from the graphic below, it’s quite cold here today:

  
I just finished enjoying a pastry at a little shop, Au Péché Mignon, and noticed all the shoppers scurrying about outside bundled in their bright fleece jackets and winter boots. 

Just for grins I checked the weather in my daughter’s part of the world:

  
Although north Florida occasionally experiences temperatures in the 30’s, seldom are they recorded as the day’s high. It looks like Rapids City, Illinois, won’t make it out of the thirties today.

You know, I feel just awful for them. 

  
NOT!!!

Peace, people!

All Fun and Games

  
Our housekeeper came on the 24th, and Doright Manor was spotless by the time she left: Tiles gleamed, faucets sparkled, and countertops shone. Studly Doright and I enjoyed Christmas Day and Boxing Day in a clean castle. Then the grandchildren arrived, along with the jolly mess that accompanies them everywhere they roam.

Within minutes of the kids’ arrival at midnight on Sunday the house looked like a violent windstorm had blown through. Suitcases exploded flinging clothing hither and yon, chairs that do not normally recline somehow morphed into loungers, and our cabinets were emptied of anything edible. 

And this was all before the gifts were opened. Once that occurred, Doright Manor disappeared beneath acres of brightly colored wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows. There might’ve been actual books, gadgets, and toys in the pile, I’m just not sure they’ll ever be located. 

Thankfully the weather here in the Florida panhandle has been perfect for exploring the outdoors this week. The kids spent hours riding the mini-bike and motorcycle that Studly (a.k.a. Poppa) fixed up for them in the weeks before their arrival. The property surrounding the manor provided a perfect track for our budding bikers.

   
 And we spent a couple of hours learning basic gun safety.

   
 A prodigious amount of tree chopping took place, as well.

  
In other words, we tried to keep them outside as much as possible. 

The crew headed home on New Year’s Day leaving behind a trail of detritus and memories. The house might look like we’ve lost a rousing game of Jumanji, but it was worth every second.

Peace, people.

Our Christmas Letter To You

Tips? We don’t need no stinkin’ tips.

 

Dear family and friends
It’s time once again
To regale you with tales of our year
So without further ado
Here’s our card to you
The little folks we hold so dear:

My husband climbed Mount Everest
Armed with only a flashlight and pen
There’s a parade planned in his honor
If he ever climbs down again.

Our children are both quite successful
As one might expect they would be
Just one notch ahead on the ladder
Of whatever your kids have achieved.

The grandkids, of course, are the smartest,
Most beautiful, bravest, and best,
Whatever they do they earn straight A’s
And live life with unquenchable zest.

As for me, well I’ve remained humble
Through all of the accolades and praise,
With my good looks and sweet disposition
I’m still approachable on odd numbered days.

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!
And as always, Peace, people!

 

Our illustrious family at Christmas in Nashville last year.

 
 

Most of our family. Our daughter-in-law Liz isn’t pictured.

 

 

Here’s our son and beautiful daughter-in-law, lest you think we don’t allow any photos of her.

 

Praying for Eyebrowz Copyright 2015 by Leslie Noyes.

Forgive

Dearest Readers,

Sometimes real life intrudes on my blogging world. Studly Doright becomes David and Nana (Leslie) has to speak her mind:

We had dinner a week ago with a lovely couple at David’s office Christmas party. I’d met them briefly before, but at this dinner we were seated next to them. We had a great time getting to know one another. They were both near our age, raising a blended family, some kids grown, others still at home. 

David called a few minutes ago to tell me the husband had just died. He couldn’t tell me more at the moment. 

So one week ago this man was a vital, living human being with hopes and dreams and a beautiful family. No one could have predicted he’d be gone on this date. 

Whatever petty grudges you’re clinging to. Whatever perceived slights. Get past them. Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed and your pride won’t keep you warm.

Not a one of us is without blame in this life. We’ve wronged others and we’ve been wronged. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us” rings a bell.
Pick up that phone. Call your sister. Call your brother, your mother, your dad, your niece or nephew, your child. You don’t even have to say you’re sorry. Just say, “I love you.” 

Peace, people. 

Praying for Eyebrowz Copyright 2015 by Leslie Noyes.

A Full Stocking

  
Our Christmas tree is lovely. As I sit here meditating on its beauty I can’t help but think of all of the wonderful events my family celebrates in December, all the reasons my Christmas stocking is full.
Our oldest grandson, Garrett, celebrated his 13th birthday on December 6. He’s still Nana’s little boy, though.

Then
Now

My mother’s birthday would have been the 7th. She was the undisputed Queen of Christmas and I miss her every day even though we seldom saw eye to eye. She’s probably busy filling stockings for all the angels in heaven. Stockings were her thing, now they’re my thing.

 

December 19 would have been Mom and Dad’s anniversary. This is my favorite photo of the two of them. They never had much in the way of material wealth; although, they enjoyed some comfortable years. 

 

Another happy day, December 20, 2010, the date Stephen Houzenga adopted our grandchildren. He took on a ready-made family and changed all of our lives for the better.  

 

Of course December 25 is a day of celebration. Last year Studly and I were able to enjoy it with our kids in Nashville. We rented a home there for the holiday and had one of the best Christmases in memory.

Here we are at The Escape Game. What an adventure! We almost escaped. All we needed was another hour or so….

  

Finally, our middle grandchild, McKayla, celebrates her birthday on the 26th. She’ll be 11 this year. Here she is about to perform in her first band concert. Gorgeous, smart, and talented.

  

I hope your Christmas stockings are filled with great memories and reasons to celebrate.

Peace, people!

First World Problems

Studly Doright handed me a catalog for a local store that carries a myriad of manly man implements and tools. Like a small child he’d gone through the catalog page by page and circled things he’d like to receive for Christmas. In red crayon. Seriously.

“What do you want?” He then asked.

“World peace, stricter gun laws, an end to hunger, equal pay for equal work, paid leave for all new parents, a $15 living wage, single payer health care, fully funded Planned Parenthood, a case of Shiner Bock, and a bottle of Cakebread merlot.”

“Ok,” he said. “I’ll vote for Bernie Sanders and give you a gift card for the booze.”

  
Now that’s a shopping list, right?

Peace, people!

Angels 

Studly Doright and I married on July 30, 1976. We were young, in love, and profoundly broke. I hadn’t really noticed just how broke we were until our first Christmas rolled around.

We managed to buy a sad little tree, but we had no ornaments. I know now there existed women who could whip up some crafty ornaments using a mixture of baking soda, grape jelly, and crushed leaves, but I was not one of those women. And this was way before Pinterest. 

My mother came to the rescue. She bought me two kits of do-it-yourself felt ornaments. At first I was overwhelmed. I couldn’t, and still can’t, sew, but I began working on the ornaments a little bit every evening, hanging them on the tree as I finished. 

 
In the beginning there were twelve ornaments, but after 16 moves in 39 years of marriage a couple have gone missing. One wreath shaped ornament was last seen being tossed around by our Siamese cat, aptly named Holly. Said wreath had a decidedly bedraggled air before it disappeared for good around 1996. The other missing ornament just went A.W.O.L. one year, perhaps fearing it would meet a death similar to that of the mangled wreath.

My favorite of the lot are the scarecrow and the angel.

  
Poor scarecrow is holding on, but just barely. He is missing an eye and his hat has undergone drastic alterations, but he continues to smile. I feel like scarecrow is my spirit animal. 

  
The angel has fared better than the rest of the crew. All but one of her sequins remain intact. She’s still praying for peace, and she means it. 

After my mom passed away I began collecting angels. Some are intricately carved, others beautifully crafted. A few were quite expensive. But this little felt angel, given to me that first Christmas of my marriage by my mother and sewn imperfectly by me, is the one I cherish most.

Peace, people.

John Scalzi Presents Day Four

http://whatever.scalzi.com/2015/12/03/whatever-holiday-shopping-guide-2015-day-four-fan-favorites/
Day Four of John Scalzi’s Holiday Shopping Guide gives fans an opportunity to provide input.

Do you have a favorite author, artist, or musician whose work you want to promote? Go to the link above and check out the criteria. Then make your pitch. 

Almost an irrelevant photo; alrhough, I am a big fan of this guy who’ll be 13 on Dec. 6.

Easy Livin’

Our covered, screened-in porch is the perfect place to relax on a mild November evening. There’s a family celebration in full force across the lake, fairy lights and lilting voices twinkling on the calm water.

  
I’m sipping a Shock Top Raspberry Wheat Ale and tapping my toes in time with the guitar music drifting across the pond. Whoever’s playing isn’t very adept at their craft, but they’re quite enthusiastic. I like that in my musicians.

The man I adore, Studly Doright, is inside the house heating leftovers from yesterday’s Thanksgiving Day meal. I’m not a bit hungry, having already eaten two pieces of pecan pie, an avocado, bacon, and cheese omelet, and a ham sandwich today. The ale is my dessert. 

Life is good here at Doright Manor. There’s a black and white cat winding around my ankles and a black cat snuggled down for a nap in the chair next to me. No, it’s not an exciting life, but it is filled with peace and love.

  
Peace, people.