tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78947612012-02-16T05:15:32.589-08:00Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.comBlogger751100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-79987579131215756092008-05-16T19:58:00.000-07:002008-05-16T20:11:54.762-07:00

There's a place in town called Simons. A great early morning hangout for healthy foods, good coffee and it just happens to be on the way to work. I sat at the bar, ready to spread out, read the paper and drink my steaming cup of coffee when a man came and sat in the chair right next to me. I'm thinking how rude of him to take up the space I had reserved for my newspaper. "Here you go Mr. Smothers

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-50672108888144756472008-05-03T05:40:00.000-07:002008-05-03T05:50:03.900-07:00

Florida gets a bad rap sometimes with all the seniors here. The stories of their driving abilities are what helps redirect a boring g dinner conversation into a time of belly laughs. I've seen uturns that end up on sidewalks. I had one lady stop in the middle of a very well know road, get out of her car, come to my window and say "I think I'm lost". Its those kind of events that used to make me

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-8260454608017089902008-04-27T13:17:00.000-07:002008-04-27T13:49:28.963-07:00

I just don't understand how I can go out and play the tennis game of my life one day, and the next day look like I've never picked up a racquet. I just don't understand how I can serve 3 sets without a double fault, and in a tie breaker, can't even hit the ball over the net, let alone get it in the box.When I was young, my nerves could face any competitive enemy, stare them in the eye and never

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-13520692284877271522008-04-26T17:12:00.000-07:002008-04-26T17:16:54.886-07:00

I had hoped I'd get a reply from BJK. Every day I would look in my email box, and made sure when I emptied my email trash, it wouldn't be there. What a suprise when I opened this a few days ago...Hello Judy. Thank you for the email you sent below. I was very touched by your kind words. I am glad to hear that you have enjoyed the sport of tennis over the years! I will keep my eyes open for a

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-63293620486280614392007-09-14T13:52:00.000-07:002007-09-14T13:53:05.914-07:00

I hope this letter reaches you, through all the emails, phone calls, and daily memos. I just wanted to say thank you for all your given to me personally as a woman, and a tennis player.I even think my dear mother would thank you. She listened to the endless sound of tennis balls hitting our garage door, as I stood in the gutter, and blasted my serve just like I saw you do so many times on TV. I

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-24669596498885698152007-08-26T13:29:00.000-07:002007-08-26T13:30:48.610-07:00

Artist & Friend.My mom lost my dad and her best friend within months of each other. I think she missed Norma more than my dad. Over the next year, when my mom was feeling down, and lonely she would ask me "Where do I find another best friend at my age?" Mom was 83. I told her she probably would never have another best friend like Norma. They come once in a lifetime, but that there where many

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-51822028561813402532007-03-24T08:00:00.000-07:002007-03-24T04:50:51.713-07:00

Since three yesterday afternoon, my mom had been failing fast. My travels home were filled with delays. I had plane flights canceled and even left a day later. We got turned around in LA on the way home, and it took us 45 minutes longer that usual. My siblings kept telling my mom that I was almost there. They even had a laptop computer to show her my flight pattern. "She's over Texas now, hang in

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-65592302013488593672007-01-29T13:30:00.000-08:002007-01-29T13:39:11.177-08:00

I have a friend, Maggie who is an exchange student in Belgium . I've know her since she was justs a little girl. She grew up with my kids. We are like family. She is also, one incredible young lady who will go on to change the world. Here is a letter I sent to her, on one of her low days.Hi Maggie,Well, I just happened to be staying in your room on the "I almost blew up the house, while Travis

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1160318347595059582006-10-08T07:37:00.000-07:002006-10-08T07:39:07.606-07:00

I met a lady yesterday, who is a graphic artist, and a painter. She was so inspirational to me. She has a little cottage in her back yard, that she goes and paints. No computer or cell phone allowed.I was jealous.I talked with my artist friend (that I traveled to Italy with) who was on her way to New Zealand for 3 weeks, to vacation and gather reference for paintings. She told me about her

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1154377494113820872006-07-31T13:03:00.000-07:002006-07-31T14:12:30.763-07:00

"You need to live a little. You need to roll down the windows and stick your head out! You're going to regret it someday, Mom. You just need to loosen up" I'm a child of the 60's. I used to wear flowers in my hair, and march for peace. I wore tie dye, and beads, and hip huggers and wide belts. I was part of Earth Day, when the earth didn't get much notice. Live a little? I went to Europe with a

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1153835251407934942006-07-25T06:46:00.000-07:002006-07-31T13:31:44.133-07:00

Click on title above to go to my new project. Painting a 6 foot clown for Tidewell Hospice & Palliative Care here in Sarasota. All clowns will be auctioned off to raise money for the children's services. It's a great fun project. Join me as I create my clown.Link: http://web.mac.com/judyrobertson/iWeb/Clowns/Welcome.html

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1153834671295440512006-07-25T06:36:00.000-07:002006-07-25T06:41:00.346-07:00

With coffee in hand, I sat as a bump on a log in the middle of Brown County State Park, near Nashville Indiana and listened to the stirrings of a new day. It is moments like this, that helps me shed all the clutter of daily life, and I can take on the issue of the world around me. Trees. Big trees. How would I paint them? What color what I put on my palette? They're everywhere... it shouldn't be

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1148046916379160372006-05-19T06:24:00.000-07:002006-05-20T14:39:45.740-07:00

I've never had a bad experience with ice cream. It's the one food group that is on the top of my food pyramid. Ice cream does not feed my body, except to add poundage, but it certainly feeds my soul. There are flavors I prefer, but none that I hate enough to turn down. Homemade vanilla is tops! You can always judge how good all the flavors of a brand are, by tasting the basics - vanilla.I can't

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1142645438916230162006-03-17T17:15:00.000-08:002006-03-19T05:03:58.156-08:00

Best friends. I'm convinced that throughout our lifetime, we get just a few "best" friends. They are the ones that go way back in our life. They know our history, because they've been so much a part of it. New friends take a bit of breaking in. It takes time to go over everything to get them up to speed. I've had that same feeling when going to see a new therapist. It took 2 sessions just to get

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1140445183729125562006-02-20T06:19:00.000-08:002006-02-20T06:20:39.376-08:00

Hospice Reject! Originally uploaded by jrdesigns.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1140376147679092652006-02-19T10:23:00.000-08:002006-02-19T11:21:36.270-08:00

There's nothing quite as intriguing as that little trash can icon on my computer desktop. Its sits there quietly, filling up day by day. The last time I checked I had about 800 pieces of trash. I hesitate to empty it. There have been days, I have dug through that trash, looking for a file, or a note I didn't think I needed anymore. I had to confirm an appointment yesterday, and I couldn't find

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1132268815646555342006-02-09T14:58:00.000-08:002006-02-20T06:04:45.086-08:00

What would you do if you only had six months to live? I've asked my kids this in the past. "We'd travel the world and see all sorts of new things." My daughter I'm sure would have on her list "shop til you drop", and my son would make a pilgrimage to Xbox kingdom to play unlimited video games. They are both teenagers, and their lives seem to point inward. I think I would travel to see all my

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1137162929136568052006-01-13T06:35:00.000-08:002006-01-13T06:35:29.183-08:00

"We're going to go buy land" I told my friend on the phone. "We're looking for a place that would be easy to find, near the road. Shade is not important" My brother Chuck, and I were deciding on a place to bury my dad. The serious little lady from the cemetery, carrying her official notebook of available plots, gaves us the ok on potential places. I stood on one, while my brother was standing on

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1136166136669192002006-01-01T17:42:00.000-08:002006-01-01T17:42:16.740-08:00

I always knew there was a point that I would snap. I didn't know where it was or what it would look like. You can only push me so far, I've always thought, and then look out. I've never reached that point in my life, although I've been pushed pretty hard in lots of directions. Until last week.The day of my dad's funeral was full of sadness and tension in trying to get all the little details taken

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1136136493059027862006-01-01T09:28:00.000-08:002006-01-01T09:28:13.116-08:00

Dec. 13, 2005"It's time", the hospice angle/nurse said. "It's time to call your family and get them here." My head exploded at he rush of adreline. I think I'm having a stroke. I paced and took deep breathes, just trying to get some oxygen to my brain. The drill that my brothers and sisters and I discussed fell to the wayside, as I tried to dial my brother's cel phone. My hands shook, and I

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1135894815289789282005-12-29T14:20:00.000-08:002005-12-30T06:31:08.866-08:00

Dec. 13, 2005My dad, Wade died. He was surrounded by his family. We loved him, and bid him farewell. He will be missed. His stories will live on.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1133557823776988002005-12-02T13:10:00.000-08:002005-12-02T13:11:49.736-08:00

"My name is Wade. That's me. I'm getting old and I'm dead. My mind is gone and I can't talk. My legs don't work." He points to his heart and says "It's still ticking" He told this to my sister this last week. He had something very important to tell her, he said, and he wanted her to sit closer to him. Then he shuffles slowly next door to his own house. He never goes to my sister's house even

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1133232532871920452005-11-28T18:48:00.000-08:002005-11-28T18:50:03.433-08:00

My Dad Originally uploaded by jrdesigns.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1133232178630518182005-11-28T18:42:00.000-08:002006-07-20T06:07:54.500-07:00

It wasn't until my dad got Alzheimers that I started talking to him. I was too busy growing up with interests and friends of my own. He was also the kind of dad that was either at work or at the bar at night. I know very little about him. I know he was born in Minnestoa, and has some half siblings, but other than that, he just never told me much, nor did I ask.Now,we sit and talk for hours. We

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1132440069838567052005-11-19T14:40:00.000-08:002005-11-28T06:32:17.286-08:00

Even though I was the second one born into a family of 5 kids, it always felt crowded. Home base was a small new development in Southern Calif, surrounded by fruit orchards and tomato fields. My dad was a mechanic, and my mom an artist. There were 5 of us, in a 3 bedroom duplex, one full bath, and one/half bath. There was no separate dining room, or living room. The small kitchen was also the

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1131485565091662752005-11-08T13:05:00.000-08:002005-11-10T09:55:54.286-08:00

Bleachers are usually not where you'll find me. Most of the time, I'm the one on the courts, running around, hitting the ball. These last two weeks, it just worked out where I was the spectator, cheering my team on to victory. It's given me a new perspective on the game of tennis. My 18 year old spirit body wants to dash quickly on the court, when in reality, my 52 year old body moves pretty

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1130272832163771882005-10-25T12:53:00.000-07:002005-10-29T09:12:49.800-07:00

We just survived hurricane Wilma's fury. Over and over again, nature has battered our poor state of Florida. We mop up, pick up debris and face the next day. Sunshine and clear skies always follow Mother Nature. Today, was no different. Our tennis match went on as if nothing happened. It was a bit more breezy as the outer bands moved through. The billowing white clouds was our backdrop for our

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1129669703940146112005-10-18T13:39:00.000-07:002005-10-18T14:08:24.010-07:00

You can feel it in the air and see it starting to change. Fall. When the weather finally cools off, and the sweaters come out. I can always tell when my favorite time of year is slowly arriving.I notice it first in the number of out-of-state license plates. Then the traffic on the main roads start to fill up, and more time is needed to get across town. I notice it in the lines at restaurants. Up

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1128959076992975712005-10-10T08:44:00.000-07:002005-10-10T16:16:55.946-07:00

Every Halloween, I think of Linda. It's been almost 20 years since I said goodby to her. I remember thinking then "Please don't die on Halloween!" What I really was saying was "Please don't die!" She died the day before the goblins and the ghosts knocked on the door. She laid in the bedroom, slowly leaving earth while making her way to heaven. I hope that everyone could meet someone like Linda.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1128637018044790232005-10-06T15:15:00.000-07:002005-10-06T15:18:00.116-07:00

Click on the title, and it will take you to my photo album

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1128283739883452122005-10-02T13:08:00.000-07:002005-10-06T05:27:42.700-07:00

When my kids were infants I used to wonder what in the world they were thinking about. As their language started to form, and words were uttered I was delighted in their new found connection with the world. Tantrums and crying were just another way of expressing their frustrations and needs. The terrible two's made way for the three's and four's. Now I am in the teen's with my kids. It's

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1127339275817563652005-09-21T14:47:00.000-07:002005-09-21T14:47:55.853-07:00

I love airports! I love the adventure of leaving one place and arriving someplace else. It's like walking in the front door to have a meal or two with complete strangers and walking out the back door in a different part of the world. Lately though, the meals have dwindled to be peanuts or pretzels. Hard to share when they give you so little. Traveling to Europe though, I got a full meal. Its was

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1127253240537121142005-09-20T14:54:00.000-07:002005-09-23T06:19:10.833-07:00

My image has traveled the globe. I am in photo albums around the world, in countries I can't even remember, let alone pronounce. I'm mostly in albums in Japan. If you look closely you can see me...there in the background. Sometimes I'm in front, as I walk in front of a group, not realizing they are posing for a picture. In major movies, they pay for extras to fill a shot. You don't get mentioned

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1127253657549696612005-09-19T15:00:00.000-07:002005-09-20T15:03:21.936-07:00

Linda:tourist Originally uploaded by jrdesigns.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1126978868979285782005-09-17T10:41:00.000-07:002005-09-17T10:41:08.983-07:00

Travel Tips Originally uploaded by jrdesigns.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1126916628275666632005-09-16T17:23:00.000-07:002005-10-11T03:54:19.486-07:00

After spending two weeks in Italy, I have come up with my very own list of does and don't while traveling. I gleemed these from first hand experience, of watching loud obnoxious Americans in a foreign country. I tried to be invisible, and then tried to talk with a British accent. Didn't work. It's hard to hide an American anywhere. Here they are in no particular order.1. You are the visitor. This

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1126751536598496012005-09-14T19:32:00.000-07:002005-09-14T19:32:16.603-07:00

Vatican Light Bulbs Originally uploaded by jrdesigns.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1126751279294488392005-09-14T19:27:00.000-07:002005-09-14T19:27:59.360-07:00

Going to Rome and visiting the Vatican, is like mecca for catholics. It's where the Pope is. It's where thousands of believers gather to get a glimpse of him when he appears in front of the little window, or when he drives by in his popemobile. I saw neither. This is catechism 101 in real time, with nuns and brothers walking everywhere. I felt like I was on a pilgrimage, even though I hadn't

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1126447851060912772005-09-12T08:10:00.000-07:002005-09-12T02:24:43.983-07:00

Two Square Feet - Rome, Italy Originally uploaded by jrdesigns.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1126435333978958912005-09-12T05:23:00.000-07:002005-09-12T02:28:08.926-07:00

Finally. My trip to Italy has begun. I'm buckled in, and imagining the wonderful sights I will see. The passport I held in my hand fell open, and I saw the photo of myself, that looks nothing like me anymore.I had prepared well, and left copies of documents with others in case something tragic happened while out of the country. In the space for emergency contact, I had written in pencil my dad's

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1124588231462501892005-08-20T18:12:00.000-07:002005-08-21T05:18:45.960-07:00

Have you ever just heard something that you just had to stop and listen? And you knew your life had changed direction a bit.Happened on the tennis court. In the midst of an intense rally, Linda punched the ball for a winning point. The moment she said those words, I knew I would learn a lot from this woman. For years I was kind and weak. Life has toughened me up a bit. I'm still kind, but

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1124575375962056572005-08-20T14:29:00.000-07:002005-08-20T15:02:56.003-07:00

I loved turning 50. I loved all the celebrating and the fuss. It was my day, and I embraced it with everything in my being. Trying to dress like a mature person is another matter. I just can't seem to find a style that portrays the new me. If I just go with comfort, then the discussions ends right here - jeans. I'm trying to come in to the new me with an artistic flair, with classiness and

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1124471415115316662005-08-19T08:37:00.000-07:002006-02-01T19:21:16.096-08:00

God did not bless me with big boobs. He has blessed me in many other ways, but mammaries are not one of them (or two of them for that matter). Cross your heart, was as a child, making a promise. I promise to say the truth. Why a bra was named for such a truthful expression is beyond me. Cross your heart for an uplifting look, or cross your heart, padded and they appear bigger. That's not telling

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1123967138725956342005-08-13T13:27:00.000-07:002005-08-14T05:16:03.763-07:00

I've decided if I ever come to the point in my life, that I need a cane, it would not be just an ordinary, Walmart variety. I would have to paint it, decorate it, do whatever I could to make it a part of me. Maybe even find a stick, and carve my initials in it. If I could figure out how to put blinking lights on it, I would. I would decorate it with the seasons, and celebrate each spring with a

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1123353655789177772005-08-06T10:12:00.000-07:002005-08-06T11:48:16.920-07:00

You are what you wear! I've learned how to get a bit of edge when I go on the tennis court. A killer outfit. It goes with a killer attittude and a killer serve. Somehow strutting helps and bouncing a ball. A good pair of dark rimmed glasses helps to hide the nervousness, and frustration. They are also good at hiding tears. These are the behind the scenes lessons that I have learned in life. Look

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1122759295394786652005-07-30T14:18:00.000-07:002005-08-02T03:47:40.386-07:00

I never wanted to visit Antarctica until today. I sat in the movie theatre in awe watching what I thought at first were very tall creatures, only to find out, after the credits, they are only knee high. What an incredible story of survival. I loved watching them walk single file through the harshest of weather conditions. I loved watching them find a mate and bond, even if it was just for one

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1122073990086935892005-07-22T15:51:00.000-07:002005-07-22T16:13:10.093-07:00

What is it about tennis and grunting? Why do top athletes have to grunt so loud. Its quite disturbing. I can take once or twice, but every hit? I grew up in the old fashion tennis way. Proper white attire, proper manners. I was almost British in my demeanor. My shot selection was limited, but effective. Hit it in!I can think of a few times that I would want to grunt, like stubbing my toe, or

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1122041002101831572005-07-22T06:22:00.000-07:002005-07-22T15:50:56.870-07:00

For a brief moment, the cloudiness of my father's alzheimers cleared, and I heard words that haven't been spoken in years. "Hi Judy!" he said in the midst of sounds and words that made no sense. It didn't matter that my mom told him that I was on the phone. It didn't matter that it was repeated over and over again, before the receiver was handed to him. He actually held that thought long enough

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1117453863846280712005-05-30T04:24:00.000-07:002005-05-30T16:29:24.670-07:00

I love Tennis! I love the fact that the score begins with love on each side. The world would be a better place if everyone played tennis. Just think of it. Standing with someone you disagree with and having to say "love, love" and agree. Common ground. And when your opponent still hasn't scored, it's still love. Tennis has lots of "nice" words. Let - the ball nicks the net on the serve and goes

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1115512076929823912005-05-07T17:27:00.000-07:002005-05-08T16:57:43.943-07:00

We all have one, some have two or more. Mother, Mother-in-law, step-mother...and the grandest of all - grandmother.Some mothers are still alive, others have gone on, and live in the hearts of their kids. Some become mothers at an early age, others later in life. Some are mothers of babies, others have kittens and puppies.I like my mother.I was the second baby of five. She did a good job, I think,

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1113859991279251642005-04-18T14:32:00.000-07:002005-04-18T14:33:11.280-07:00

Lindale Texas Together again, yet worlds apart. The life of my long time friend Dawn and I took such very different directions. Her the whole world. Mine, the person next to me.I met Dawn years ago when hippies and bell bottoms were in, and the Jesus People combed the streets of Southern California. Our common friends brought us together to work in the media department for a large missionary

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1113325184922362462005-04-12T09:29:00.000-07:002005-04-12T09:59:44.923-07:00

I meet her every morning at the gym. Just as the sun is beginning the day, Connie arrives with her husband of many years. I used to see her on the weight machines, and we would stop and greet each other with a smile and a bit of gossip. Who was at the gym, and who was sleeping in? Her husband Kenny, a former boxer, is keeping his youthful physique by lifting weights and riding the bikes. His

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1112812867551416182005-04-06T11:25:00.000-07:002005-04-06T14:58:32.406-07:00

It was in the 7th grade that I finally understood what a verb was. "An action word" said Sister Mary Jose. For all my six previous years of parochial school, English was my worst subject. I just didn't get it. When I was called on in class, I would just guess at the answer. I rarely raised my hand. All those parts of the speech: verbs, adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions - what was I suppose to

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1112798377306130772005-04-06T06:58:00.000-07:002005-04-29T05:26:06.460-07:00

I lay in bed listening to the day begin. It's been thirty years since I lived here, before the call of the world took me out of my home with adolescent fervor. The sounds really haven't changed much. I grew up in a house that backed up onto an alley, which backed up onto a huge field, where the neighborhood gang of kids played late into the night, or until the street lights came on. We dug holes,

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1112633521769609012005-04-04T09:47:00.000-07:002005-04-29T05:29:20.740-07:00

I knew I was getting old when the all too familiar smell of my childhood hangout no longer existed. It's my story of "I remember when", like my folks used to tell me:I remember when I walked through ice and snow to go to school.I remember when I used to steal rides on the back of the ice truck.I remember wringing the heads of chickens and then eating them for dinner.I remember the depression, I

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1112111192226501752005-03-29T10:43:00.000-08:002005-03-29T07:46:32.230-08:00

Looking down at my bruised, bloodied knees I sigh. While lunging for the tennis ball, my feet just couldn't keep up with my enthusiasm, and I fell. My brand new shirt was now stained with the dust of the clay court. I wiped the dirt off my perspiring skin, and the gravel from my palms. I'm not sure if we won the point, but it was certainly worth it. I can recount the adventures I had as a kid,

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1111504703168892872005-03-22T07:13:00.000-08:002005-03-30T05:35:32.566-08:00

Last night my older brother Chuck and wife Kathy took me out to dinner at a fine restaurant by the ocean. We had to wait about an hour to be seated so we wandered around looking in art galleries and walked on the boardwalk. The smell of the sea, and the sound of the crashing waves were nice. I love the smell of salt air and the sound of the surf. In the near distance is the pier, where many early

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1112645878699595682005-03-21T13:09:00.000-08:002005-04-04T13:17:58.700-07:00

The well dressed man sat across from me in the crowded LA airport waiting area. The drone of humanity moving from one terminal to another was contrasted with the loud announcements of airline departures, boarding and lost people meeting other lost people in designated places. I love airports. Such a variety of cultures and nations. He was dressed in the typical Dallas style-leather jacket, cowboy

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1110125118346597062005-03-06T08:03:00.000-08:002005-03-06T08:05:18.346-08:00

somy mother went thru the same thingour paths now somehow joinedexcept she disappeared thenand wanted to dieand I was to blamesoits time for the next phase of life.when my body starts to slow downand the eggs that it has so faithfully produceshrivel up and dieI'm not to blamesothe flashes of heatfrom the insidethat warms my being, and wets my browreminds methat life is constantly changingsomy

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1109557704976252502005-02-27T18:28:00.000-08:002005-02-27T18:28:24.976-08:00

family circle hands2 Originally uploaded by jrdesigns. This is a picture of my parents and siblings. Hands tell such an interesting story.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1109123008165951772005-02-22T17:43:00.000-08:002005-02-22T17:43:28.166-08:00

earlybirds Originally uploaded by jrdesigns. My day starts at the gym, working out with friends. Then we gather at different restaurant tables around town to eat. Daily they amaze me and daily they show me the way to a life full of energy, love and sharing...no matter what the age.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1108633857196843002005-02-17T01:47:00.000-08:002005-02-17T01:50:57.200-08:00

I found my childhood dream, tucked away in a closet gathering dust. The grip was worn, not only from years of sweat and use, but age had taken the shine off the leather surface. The strings that once were so tight that I could hear musical notes when the ball was bounced on it, were broken. The only possession of my youth, that will bring tears to my eyes. My tennis racket.Hours were spent at

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1108324488821626332005-02-13T14:54:00.000-08:002005-02-13T11:54:48.823-08:00

I've walked thru the front door of my childhood home many times and I've seen it thru many eyes. Childhood eyes that were high enough to see through the mailbox cutout in the door. Adolescent eyes that finally where able to see in and out of the little window on the top half of the door. I've noticed the change. Now with my adult eyes, I open the door and announce my arrival. I walk passed

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1108328310436169262005-02-13T12:58:00.000-08:002005-02-13T17:35:05.390-08:00

Dad Originally uploaded by jrdesigns. Wade, sitting in front of his life from long ago. Navy uniform, ribbons and certificates, wearing a florida hurricane tshirt, given to me by a dear, dear friend in Florida, and passed along to him He's always liked tshirts.See story above.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1106156839167103042005-01-19T09:47:00.000-08:002005-01-19T09:47:19.166-08:00

studio at siesta keys Originally uploaded by jrdesigns. A space for my creative side. A small art studio tucked away at siesta key, where it is a short walk to one of the prettiest beaches in the world. I share this with another artist. It truly is a haven away from my "other" life.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1105741290057888092005-01-14T14:21:00.000-08:002005-01-14T14:25:54.353-08:00

judymarathon Originally uploaded by jrdesigns. I did it!!! After 8 months of hard work and training, I joined 24,000 other runners as we all ran...one step at a time.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104981632872935702005-01-05T19:20:00.000-08:002005-01-06T04:00:15.926-08:00

Zoe Originally uploaded by jrdesigns. yes, she does look cute! And she got on the kitchen counter, got a bagel and was sitting innocently on the couch. She thought I wouldn't notice what she was about to bury...later that day, I found the bagel....under my pillow. She is definitely possessed.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104966415430339772005-01-05T15:06:00.000-08:002005-01-05T15:06:55.430-08:00

I sit, surround by you, Women. Some of you I know, and others I don't. We are joined by the fact we all have body parts named the same. Some of you have lost some of them, a breast, maybe two. Surgeries have removed some of what we have in common. I am not afraid of you, and for once, I'm not comparing. We are all together, and I can feel the bond, even though I do not know your stories...or

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104868837795439332005-01-04T11:53:00.000-08:002005-01-04T13:55:24.946-08:00

I'm a firm believer in looking ahead, and not looking back. There is something optimistic about the future and all that is ahead. But these last few days events have made me stop and think that it is good to glance back once in awhile. I was driving down a well-traveled road, minding my own business. I was in that space where time stands still, and I was moving and flowing with the traffic. I'm

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104787875802959132005-01-03T13:29:00.000-08:002005-01-10T03:50:59.416-08:00

There are many ways to say I love you. Some people say it with roses. Some with candy. The most common way is just to say it "I love You" Then there is the way my dad has said it for as long as I can remember. "How's the weather?" Our phone conversations through the years have always been the same. "Hi, It's good to hear from you. How's the weather?" I come to realize that what he's really

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104799091988166792004-11-25T19:35:00.000-08:002005-01-03T16:38:11.986-08:00

thanksgiving day 2004 Running north For a moment I felt like Forrest Gump. Getting on the road and just running. I left the house, and headed for the beach. I knew there was a bike/running trail that went along the coast. I had no idea how far I was going to go, I just wanted to get out and run. There were few cars early Thanksgiving morning. The air was brisk, and I could smell the salt air.

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104841942037690962004-06-15T04:32:00.000-07:002005-05-10T05:40:01.786-07:00

VESPA Originally uploaded by jrdesigns. Local paper did a story on me. Read it at (copy and paste into your browser) http://search.heraldtribune.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2004406150596

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104843915828530612003-09-02T05:04:00.000-07:002005-01-04T05:05:15.826-08:00

I like the word choicefullness...hmmmm choosing with integrity with honesty with love with no malice toward others being aware of how it will affect others and still being true to oneself. now always agreeing but having an open heart not grabbing to get but being patient to see what unfolds hmmmmm

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104844171200781582000-10-28T05:08:00.000-07:002005-01-04T05:14:02.086-08:00

I must admit, the glamour and sparkle of Las Vegas was hard to resist. The food buffets as far as the mouth could reach. The shows from white tigers to blue men put my artistic nature into overdrive. I have never been in such a place before that had so much to offer. Did I like it? Sure. I loss my money in the slot machines, hoping to win a new car. I desperately wanted to get that loud siren to

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7894761.post-1104844081333241922000-10-26T05:07:00.000-07:002005-01-04T05:11:32.106-08:00

We came in second!!! to last that is. The good news is we weren't the worse. but let me take you back to the beginning... I'm sitting on the plane, visualizing taking someone out on the rink. My hand brushed my watch, and the crystal was gone. The second hand had poked me. How odd, I thought. Time was not only standing still at the moment, but was trying to get my attention. Then I broke a

Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17243514910723076956noreply@blogger.com0