From Dottie

Subject: Keep Your Fork

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things in order, she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

There's one more thing, she said excitedly.

What's that? came the Pastor's reply.

This is very important,the young woman continued. I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say. That surprises you, doesn't it? the young woman asked.

Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request said the Pastor.

The young woman explained. My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, "Keep your fork." It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!

So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Keep your fork, the best is yet to come.'

The Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, 'What's with the fork?' And over and over he smiled.

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.

He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come. Great friends are a very rare jewel, indeed; they make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us.

Show your friends how much you care. Remember to always be there for them, even when you need them more. For you never know when it may be their time to 'Keep your fork.'

Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share....

Being friends with someone is not an opportunity but a sweet responsibility.

Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND even if it means sending back to the person who sent it to you.

And keep your fork.

Marvellous (and close) MARS

This seems to me to be a major event in our lives, so I am sharing it with everyone I know. I hope that we will all get to see this happening between the first of August---- and as it develops night after night-- throughout the month of August---- so that we can have an event in common with everyone that will never be seen again in our lifetime. Pretty special, I'd say!!!!!!!

Love, Dottie

http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=Planet+Mars&FORM=R5FD15

A message from Claire for Muriel

This just received from Claire on her visit with Muriel last year. Click on the link below to view. Well done Claire.

http://www.photoshow.com/watch/ea5Ih4dJ

Also, note from the Sommers:

I'm glad this email is now working for you, Claire. We don't want to lose contact, right? Great picture of you and your two boyfriends, ha! Muriel is only about 30 miles east of Durango; so I expect that you will be able to see her when you are there. She has a really nice place and Nancy and I had a wonderful visit with her (did you see our blog input?) when we were there a couple weeks ago.

Chuck, thanks for "fixing" the blog addresses. Got to keep in touch .....

Nancy and I are up in Sisters, OR right now for the rest of the month. Nice up here. We'll only get as far north as Portland this trip, but all in all, we are getting to see some great country on our road trip this year. Guess we will have put about 6,000 miles on the car before all is said and done and we are back in Laguna Niguel. Love it.
Cheers, Tom

A note from Claire

I don't know what the trouble is. My address is still claired@cgmailbox.com. I put a hold on it while I took the OAT tented safari trip to Africa the first of this month. Have you done this one? Loved it. Anyhow, I got this email. Hmmm. A Gremlin!



I am glad you sent a note. I tried to send a condolence the Muriel and the email was returned. Does she have a new address? I am going to Durango on Friday for about 10 days and plan to give her a call.



Dottie is in Seattle for the month and returns on Saturday, the 25th, only to go to Colorado the next week. The heat is getting to us!



I still have fond memories of our times together. Hope you are all well and happy and seeing the world.



Love,

Claire

Condolesences to Muriel

Following up on the visit with Muriel by Tom and Nancy, we are saddened by the news of the passing of Walter Cronkite. Our thoughts are with you Muriel.

Sommers' visit Muriel

During a little five week road trip around the western part of the USA (as far east as St. Louis), Nancy and I had the chance to have a wonderful visit with Muriel Cronkhite in her "little bit of paradise" home in Pagosa Springs, CO. What a neat location in a wonderful part of our great country that is. Muriel served a superb lunch (highly recommended for those passing through, ha!) and we had a great time "remembering" our fun trip together to New Zealand. Here are a few pictures showing Muriel's home and view, and a couple of the three of us. Hope everyone is doing well and enjoying life to the fullest. Cheers, Tom and Nancy Sommers

Another gem from Dottie for all you grandparents

Subject: A 3-year-old tells all from his mother's restroom stall.

> By Shannon Popkin

My little guy, Cade, is quite a
> talker. He loves to communicate and does it quite well. He
> talks to people constantly, whether we are in the library,
> the grocery store or at a drive-thru window. People often
> comment on how clearly he speaks for a
> just-turned-3-year-old. And you never have to ask him to
> turn up the volume. It's always fully cranked. There
> have been several embarrassing times that I've wished
> the meaning of his words would have been masked by a
> not-so-audible voice, but never have I wished this more than
> last week at Costco. Halfway, through our shopping trip,
> nature called, so I took Cade with me into the restroom. If
> you'd been one of the ladies in the restroom that
> evening, this is what you would have heard coming from the
> second to the last stall: ''Mommy, are you gonna
> go potty? Oh! Why are you putting toiwet paper on the
> potty, Mommy? Oh! You gonna sit down on da toiwet paper
> now? Mommy, what are you doing? Mommy, are you gonna go
> stinkies on the potty?'' At this point I started
> mentally counting how many women had been in the bathroom
> when I walked in. Several stalls were full ... 4? 5? Maybe
> we could wait until they all left before I had to make my
> debut out of this stall and reveal my identity. Cade
> continued: ''Mommy, you ARE going stinkies
> aren't you? Oh, dats a good girl, Mommy! Are you gonna
> get some candy for going stinkies on the potty? Let me see
> doze stinkies, Mommy! Oh ... Mommy! I'm trying to see
> In dere. Oh! I see dem. Dat is a very good girl, Mommy.
> You are gonna get some candy!'' I heard a few
> faint chuckles coming from the stalls on either side of me.
> Where is a screaming new born when you need her? Good grief.
> This was really getting embarrassing. I was definitely
> waiting a long time before exiting. Trying to divert him, I
> said, ''Why don't you look in Mommy's purse
> and see if you can find some candy. We'll both have
> some!'' ''No, I'm trying to see doze
> more stinkiesŠOh! Mommy!'' He started to gag at
> this point. ''Uh - oh, Mommy. I fink I'm gonna
> frow up. Mommy, doze stinkies are making me frow up!! Dat
> is so gross!!'' As the gags became louder, so did
> the chuckles outside my stall.. I quickly flushed the toilet
> in hopes of changing the subject. I began to reason with
> myself: OK. There are four other toilets. If I count four
> flushes, I can be reasonably assured that those who
> overheard this embarrassing monologue will be long gone.
> ''Mommy! Would you get off the potty, now? I want
> you to be done going stinkies! Get up! Get up!''
> He grunted as he tried to pull me off Now I could hear
> full-blown laughter. I bent down to count the feet outside
> my door. ''Oh, are you wooking under dere, Mommy?
> You wooking under da door? What were you wooking at? Mommy?
> You wooking at the wady's feet?'' More
> laughter. I stood inside the locked door and tried to assess
> the situation. ''Mommy, it's time to wash our
> hands, now. We have to go out now, Mommy.'' He
> started pounding on the door. ''Mommy, don't
> you want to wash your hands? I want to go out!!''
> I saw that my wait 'em out' plan was unraveling. I
> sheepishly opened the door, and found standing outside my
> stall, twenty to thirty ladies crowded around the stall, all
> smiling and starting to applaud. My first thought was
> complete embarrassment, then I thought, where's the fine
> print on the 'motherhood contract' where I signed
> away every bit of my dignity and privacy? But as my little
> boy gave me a big, cheeky grin while he rubbed bubbly soap
> between his chubby little hands, I thought, I'd sign it
> all away again, just to be known as Mommy to this little
> fellow. (Shannon Popkin is a freelance writer and mother
> of three She lives with her family in Grand Rapids ,
> Michigan , where she no longer uses public restrooms) You
> must pass this on to all the mothers who have had
> embarrassing moments with their children. Isn't it
> great to be a parent!!!