Janet's Blog

For several months, I've been thinking of writing a blog about being in the zone, but the time hasn't been quite right. I guess I have to be in the zone to write about being in the zone. According to Wikipedia, being in the zone is "the mental state of operation in which a person performing an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of the activity. If you are in the zone, you are happy or excited because you are doing something very skillfully and easily." Conversely, if you zone out,  you become oblivious to your surroundings, especially in order to relax.  Levi is certainly in the zone when he is playing Minecraft or using the computer, but at the same time, he is zoned out to the people around him. Victoria zones out while she is texting her boyfriend, but I don't know if she necessarily has to be in the zone to do so. Sometimes I think she has to be in the zone to do anything els

A couple of months ago, I realized I didn't have a picture of all four of my grandchildren together, so I sat them down on my stairs, pulled out my cell phone, and took some pictures. Then, I took the best photo and used it as the lock screen picture on my phone. That way, every time I turn on my phone, I see their smiling faces looking at me for a few seconds before I put in the code and get on with my business. Tobin, Evelyn, holding Arden, and Lydia After looking at the photo every day for the last two months, I've realized something: my grandchildren are the very picture of "pink and white." Oh, they all have beautiful, big blue eyes, too, and blond hair of various lengths and textures. Anyone who sees them all together can tell that they are siblings, that's for sure, and no one doubts their predominantly German heritage. My brother, sister, and I all share wide shoulders, but little else, as far as physical features are concerned. Dan and I both ha

It seems like no one fries chicken any more. After all, fried chicken is time consuming to make, and high in fat content--and besides, most kids these days prefer chicken nuggets to chicken with bones. When I was a preschooler, when my family still lived on a farm outside of Bloomfield, fried chicken was practically a household staple. Mom raised chickens--lots of chickens--so we had plenty of eggs and no lack of chickens to roast or fry. Fried chicken was my favorite, and a fried chicken heart was the choicest tidbit. Back then, no edible poultry parts were ever wasted. Sometimes, women chopped up the organ meats and put them in stuffing or gravy, but Mom always fried them, along with the back and neck, and someone always ate them. Dad liked chicken gizzards and liver, but the heart was the only giblet I ever wanted. We always ate our big meal at noon, so Dad would be provided with sufficient fuel to complete his strenuous farm work each day. During harvest, it wasn't uncomm

I remember Novembers of long ago, when the only obvious holiday decorations were a few remaining Halloween pumpkins, still sitting on doorsteps. We were eager to celebrate Thanksgiving with family, but the stores were not filled with specific Thanksgiving decor--no Thanksgiving napkins, paper plates, or centerpieces. The stores were not crowded with Christmas displays, either; those did not arrive until right after Thanksgiving, when Santa rode into town in a horse-drawn wagon or a red convertible, or at least once in my memory, in a helicopter. Years ago, Halloween was celebrated with its brief, one day of trick or treating in our neighborhoods. Thanksgiving was observed by thanking God during an extra church service on Wednesday evening or Thursday morning, followed by the traditional, extended family feast with our grandparents. In nearly every town across America, the downtown Christmas lights were lit on Thanksgiving evening, and people began to think about doing some loca