"The Guppies"

When I was a child, Art Linkletter had a show, and a segment of it was titled "Kids Say the Darndest Things". I don't remember the specifics, but I remember it was funny because of the responses of the kids. Now I listen to my grandsons and agree, kids do say the darndest things. They make me laugh with their priceless exchanges.

When complimenting Joshua on his math skills, I said, "You are very smart!"

"I know I am, Grandma. I am very smart. I smarter than . . . .um . . .well, I won't say that," he replied.

To which Carson chimed in, "I'm smarter that Carson. I'm smarter Carson. He always says that, Grandma, he says, 'I'm smarter than Carson.' and it hurts my feelings!"

One of my favorites is a the "lying" battle. One will tattle on the other, bringing up a routine argument of:

"I did not . . .he's lying."

"I'm not lying, you are lying."

"I am not lying. You are being rude."

"I am not rude. You are rude."

"I am not rude, you are just trying to make yourself proud."

"I'm not proud, you are lying."

"I'm not lying. . . " . . . and on it goes.

Their father was explaining the need to follow the house rules. "Sit at the table and eat your breakfast."

"Why? I don't want to. I want to eat by the tv."

"Sit at the table. That's the rule."

"Why do I have to follow your rules?"

"Because I'm the Dad and I have rules!"

"Well, I have rules for my own life."

I'm guessing that the next time you hear, "You''re lying" -you'll hear in you're head "I'm not lying, you are lying . . . . . ." I'm going to make some rules for my own life.

Sand Dunes

One day, Richard and I were discussing where we'd each like to travel to. We both thought that traveling back to the Eastern Shore of Virginia would be a great trip. Going "home" can be dishearting

Then Richard surprised me with that trip in July of 2006. We were in Tampa and caught an afternoon flight to Virginia. We stayed in Virginia Beach that night, then traveled across the bay bridge tunnel whose toll is now $12, and up the Eastern Shore. We found the new LDS chapel in Onley and realized again, that you can't go home. We knew only a few of the members, as it's grown considerably, and those few did not remember us, although they courteously said they did. It's the South.

We drove out to our home on Plantation Road and found it abandoned, although the Riley's are still there. They've been watching over it since we left . . .since 1870 or so, actually. They occupy the family plot on "our" land. It was sad, but brought closure to the longing of wanting to return or relive those times. Tuck those memories away and treasure them. You can't go back.

Then to our beach~Assateague Island. It's where we spent the magical summers while we lived in Virginia. It's a barrier island and a state park. There are wild ponies, a lighthouse, 100's of migratory birds, but no stores, no boardwalks, no picnic tables. Pure beach. We loved it. A cooler full of beach food, umbrella, chairs, towels and boogie boards-just the necessities.

Time has changed even the beach. No dunes. A hurricane had taken them out a few years earlier. But the sand, the leftover sandcastles, the sound of the waves were still there. We went for a Monday morning sunrise, got back in the rental car and drove back down the shore, out to our home and bid it a fond good-bye. Stopped at Marsh Jewelers for a Chesapeake Bay bracelet (an Onancock custom) and headed back across the $12 bridge.

It was an enchanting, serene visit to what was at one time "Home". The best part of it was that we were together to enjoy the trip. Home for me is where my family is-Utah, Nevada, Arizona, Montana, Georgia, Tennessee, Florida, Washington, Missouri and maybe Portugal.