Drawing picked up steam for me during shelter in place.  Having an old hobby re-emerge is one of the good things to come out of otherwise depressing time and space: Quarantine. (That’s just a depressing word [quarantine], in and of itself.) Most of you know I have a soft spot for creating old, wrinkly people in black and white.  I call my creations pencil paintings.  An art teacher that I’ve known for years [ArtClasses] has begun offering classes via Zoom.  Joining the discussions has re-inspired me to draw. If you’re interested in learning to draw or paint check this link out: ChrisdiDomizio Thanks for stopping by! Love, Shelley

Hi Everyone, How are you?  Are you “opening back up?” How did quarantine go for you?  Happy, healthy and hopeful, I trust? The past month of quarantine has been a roller coaster in my house.  One minute time slooows down, the next it speeds up.  “Stay at Home,” started out humdrum and routine: go for a walk; go to the grocery store; cook; check on Mother; text; email; walk the dog; walk the dog again, repeat.  How’s quarantine treating you? Then whammo!  Last week, during a single day (four hours to be exact), dullness in our household exploded into adrenaline rushed pandemonium and a Sweeney surge of economic participation. News Flash:  All three people quarantined in my home (me, Jeff, Diana) survived a geiser-style plumbing fiasco that just happened to coincide with the removal of a dilapidated-crash-any-day stone wall; plus, gutter and yard maintenance; and coveted maid service.  All on our property.  All in one day. In other words, the Sweeneys are opening back up. Have you ever had a smelly gurgling in your kitchen sink?  Then, proceeded to check it out and discover a cracked pipe?  And then you tinker with this and that while you’re under the sink any way?  Thus wisely choosing to call an expert?  But…then someone in the house starts laundry, unaware the laundry plumbing has been happily married to the now disabled kitchen plumbing all these years? Try to imagine a volcano-esque eruption of disgarded food particles that are encapsulated by disgusting conglomerations of fat and sewer chemicals exploding into an otherwise-sterile kitchen.  Mean while, a mini monsoon claims the basement, directly below your feet. What would you do? What did you do? No kidding, that happened in our house last week. Jeff, Diana and I bolted into action to save our kitchen, basement and all possessions the storm had in its path.  Water and food particles flew to the sky and everywhere in between, or so it seemed.  I dragged an area rug out of the front door as water poured off of it, while Diana mopped up gunk from the hardwoods (on her hands and knees for an hour), and the dog chased the neighbor cat across the street.  Jeff ripped soggy insulation from the basement ceiling and scattered furniture and supplies.  He vacuumed and mopped for what seemed like ages. It. Was. Chaos. To the rescue: the very next day a drain specialist and plumber showed up and repaired the entire debacle to better than new.  This Sweeney plumbing tragedy (as Diana describes it) indeed coincided with an immense undertaking of removing a very old stone wall, gutter cleaning and, last but not least, our beloved house cleaners who came in behind all of them to make things shiny, bright and happy again.  I thank God for all of the wonderful, amazing people who are getting back to business in Atlanta, GA.  God Bless all of us. Thanks for reading! Love, Shelley Plumber While they were in the house… Hanging outside… All cleaned up… Here one day, gone the next. Waiting on the wall… “What is happening?” 8 tips for surviving (and thriving!) in the midst of chaos

Hi Everyone, I hope you all are hanging in there with the crazy Covid19 stuff going on.  Speaking of crazy Covid19 stuff: what is with the toilet paper craze? Toilet paper never, ever would have crossed my mind as a rush-out-to-get item early in this crisis.  Thank the Lord I had plenty in the basement because I would have been,well, sh** out of luck, so to speak.  No doubt you’ve noticed how scarce and sacred toilet paper became overnight? Will any human ever look at a package of Charmin or Scott the same again?   Four white rolls tucked snuggly in plastic, sitting on a shelf, never looked more appealing.  Who knew? In the Beginning The first couple weeks of lockdown were energizing, a challenge.  Attention!  Call up the troops.  Do your part. Be an alive American soldier! Fight, fight! We got this. I mean, good grief, the speed at which I get in and out of Publix and Whole Foods these days is impressive.  You’d think I had a plane to an exotic get-away to catch. Sailing up and down aisles for absolute essentials only, while holding my breath to dodge cryptic, invisible enemies is a new, weird, norm.  Another new “weird” norm is the fact that, though I don’t need any, I often peak down the toilet paper aisle, just for fun. What!?  And only two times have I been pleasantly surprised to see toilet paper stacked neatly on shelves.  Oh, look, there it is.  Oh my, isn’t it lovely sitting up there.  Just lovely. Amazing too. More Crazy… If scurrying up and down aisles as fast as possible isn’t anxiety inducing enough, once I sneezed in Publix.  A cloud of guilt berated me all the way to the car. Atlanta’s pollen count was around 9,000 and sneeze-guilt still heckled me home.  Nevermind my eyes were bright red and watery. I hoped and prayed people who saw and heard me kerchoo also took note of the watery-redness and that they were up to speed with pollen stats. It’s Going to be Okay Speeding through grocery stores with military precision, fighting the enemy with held breath, hoping to spy packages of Charmin or Scott as a side thrill,  all the while dreaming of a flight to Scotland is not so bad if you carry Faith and Hope with you. This too shall pass.  And, let’s not forget that a sneeze is the body’s natural reaction to defend itself.  Just make sure the sneeze lands securely in your elbow. God will take care of all else.  Happy Easter every day, not just in April! Exotic destinations and Scott toilet paper are new dreams Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley “Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will not pass away,” Matthew 24:35.

Hi Friends and Family, I hope you are happy, healthy and hopeful. All three Triangle Park girls are living reorganized lives regarding Covid-19…as best we can.   I’m sharing mine in this blog and please check out: https://triangleparkatl.com/  to read what Savanna and Diana are doing in their reorganized lives, or click their respective links at the end of this post. Here’s what’s new in my humble bubble: EXTRA Prayer Time –  Before Covid-19 I prayed every day.  But, admittedly, the time I spent praying was never as much as I could have . Afterall, I’m always busy-busy like the rest of the world.  But nowadays, “busy” is a useless excuse.  Who doesn’t have time to pray [more] in our reorganized, new reality lives? Food Delivery to 90-year-old – I love to cook delicious, healthy food so life hasn’t changed much in this regard.  But I’m cooking more meals per week and delivering portions to my mom in Sandy Springs.  Mom cooks three meals a day but thoroughly enjoys when I bring her goodies. Home Hair Cuts – I’ve cut my own hair for the past four months and, oh lawd, am I a happy camper doing so!  I’ve also given Diana a haircut and this past weekend coiffed Jeff’s hair on the back deck. The artist in me enjoys the process and, if I do say so myself, I’m pretty good at it. Scant – Zero Alcohol – Drinking alcohol isn’t a priority or big desire for me. But, knowing that a tip-top immune system will help ward off Covid, I’ve kissed alcohol goodbye.  I do, however, look forward to my favorite custom-made margarita at Taqueria Del Sol in the not-to-distant future. Learning to Make Videos – With extra idle time in my reorganized life, I’ve finally become motivated to enter the world of adding videos to my website.  Speaking to a camera is awkward but when you envision the friends and family you’re directing messages to it’s quite easy and fun. That’s it folks.  I recommend all five of my daily life adjustments.  You may not have an elderly mother to deliver food to, but cooking and eating healthy will help you get through this mess.  Let me know if you’d like hair cutting tips.  I have quite a salon set up at home, and I’d also love to share tips I’ve learned [the hard way] about making videos, even though I’m still not very good. Clearly, I’m still a work in progress with video production as you’ll see from the attached video.  In it, I share things I/we’re doing to reach out to others. If you’re interested in any of the above email me at: triangleparkatl@gmail.com. You may or may not recall that I’m working on a portrait drawing.  Here it is thus far: A new drawing project of a beautiful woman. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley Prayer: Dear Lord, We come to you broken, helpless.  Have mercy on us. Forgive us our selfishness, ego-driven motivation, our navel-gazing.  Help us to listen and learn from your Word and omniscience. We don’t have you, Lord, you have us and for that we are thankful. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” … “Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.” Psalm 91 Savanna’s latest blog A whole new world Diana’s Blog These are Difficult Times Art School: https://www.didomizioartscenter.com/

If you are busy-busy and rarely slow down to make time for family I needn’t remind you that a horrid halt is upon us to make time for family, whether we want to or not.  Thankfully, my family spends a lot of time together in general, so we are not in major readjustment mode. But, like everyone else our daily routine is quite different. It goes without saying that the trajectory of pandemic-2020 is shocking and tragic. A little less so, perhaps, if you watched Contagion – 2011.  Many of us who saw the movie [sort of] saw it coming, if you will.  But I thought it was SARS, then the Swine flu, then MERS, Ebola, Zika…wait, what is going on — there are too many to name. Do you know that the Swineflu infected 61 million Americans??  SIXTY ONE MILLION.  And do you recall panic surrounding that pandemic?  I don’t. It’s safe to say everyone will recall this bug.  Especially given it has a middle and last name:  Corona-Wuhan-China (a/k/a Covid-19). Whatever you call it, this sucker has a big, pandemic bite and is igniting *dempanic™ on top of immeasurable misery. The good news is God is in control and we (a lot of us) put our faith and trust in Him realizing we have no control over the situation or His plan. Five new routines for TPA: Morning prayer that lasts longer than normal Long walks with good conversation / no cell phones Home baked desserts Relaxing outside on the grass Stick shift instruction for Diana (enjoy what you already have, the Joy is in the JOurneY, not the end — Kobe Bryant even said so). How are you staying sane and connected? Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley Diana practiced shifting around her old high school parking lot Beautiful day at Piedmont Park yesterday afternoon. Quality, quietness in the center of the universe, IMHO Watching time and clouds pass slowly by Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us – Romans 5:3-5. *Dempanic™ is a term that arose in a fiction story I’m writing.  A character uses it to calm his dying mother by redirecting her “pandemic” fear to the Truth.  I inserted the term in this blog for a heads up. (*dempanic™ March 19, 2020, all rights reserved)

What does Happy Birthday mean to you?  Are you one that doesn’t bother celebrating your birthday?  Or, do you call up family and friends and head out on the town to celebrate?  What would you do if the world was in the midst of a viral pandemic? Celebrate or lay low… turning 5-8 I turned 5-8 yesterday, smh.  Initially Jeff and I had plans to have a blow out good time at a GOCA (Georgia Ovarian Cancer Alliance) auction in the Georgia Aquarium.  Savanna, Joey, and Diana were also looking forward to supporting this great cause with us. We attended last year and had a lot of fun while supporting a great organization (thanks Sean! xo). …But then…Covid19 happened and the auction was postponed [insert sad face].  Needless to say, worry, anxiety and toilet-paper-shortage-possibilities arose and we questioned whether we should go out at all, birthday or no birthday.  turning 5-8 Add to that, the Georgia Institute of Technology extended their spring break for two weeks and asked students to stay away from campus until at least March 30. But in the end, it was a stunning, sunny day outside and we decided to take necessary precautions and head out for as fun a time as we could manage.  And indeed it was a great time of delicious food, atmosphere, singing, sparklers and silly selfies:  LeBilboquet St.Regis/GardenRoom I don’t always celebrate birthdays with such pomp and circumstance but for number 5-8, I’m thankful to have done so.  And I’m also thankful for the thoughtful people in my life that sent personal messages, including a video chat from a major throwback in Oregon (thanks Debbie!). God willing the pandemic crisis we’re all in will quickly pass, and all those who desire to celebrate their birthday on the town with family and friends can and will do so in 2020. Stay healthy and strong everyone. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley Thank you girls, for everything! I love you xo

Ladies that blog together also try to die together…at the gym.  For instance last Tuesday night at 6:30 p.m., Piedmont Fitness Center, Extreme 90xs Core Workout (Mike).  It’s a miracle that all three of us aren’t dead. Planning a mutually convenient hour to attend a fitness class together seemed like the hardest part of the whole deal…until we laid eyes on Mike. Typically, I only attend a.m. classes at Piedmont.  Sometimes there are just two people in a class and always the attendees are, well, older.   Put it this way, after “Mike’s” class, it’s shocking that I’m alive to write about it.  I should be dead, and the girls aren’t far behind my agony. Savanna, Diana and I knew that Extreme 90xs wasn’t “suitable for beginners,” the written description was clear. What we didn’t know was that the instructor had biceps the size of cantaloupes and that he wouldn’t make concessions for newcomers. Note: Mike’s class was a poor decision for me beyond his out-of-my-league physique.  I was, and am, in the midst of nursing foot/calf injuries (plural). Perhaps you can relate:  It’s just so stinking hard to give in to lameness. After we set our positions up with steps and weights, Mike set the music blaring and pumping. The room was packed; he yelled orders like a pro and just looking at his arms made mine hurt before we began. When I finally thought a nice cadence was in motion with my sore feet, Mike shouted for everyone to follow him out of the room. “We need to see some light,” he said.  But there was no light. He had us run up a stairwell all the way to the top floor. Exactly how many flights? A LOT. I got dizzy and had to stop about halfway up and was happy to find, once I got going again, that Savanna had stopped too, a couple floors above me. When back in the classroom, we were kicking in the air, dropping to the ground, grabbing weights, twisting, turning and trying as best we could to kill ourselves, or so it seemed.  Then, Mike instructed us to the gym where we did sprints, laps, and walked back and forth in plank position, stopping when ordered to “raise your right, raise your left, forward, back…”  Oh. My. God. I’m not doing Mike’s class ever again because truth be known: I don’t want to die.  Divorcing myself from Extreme 90xs after just one try doesn’t mean I don’t like Mike, because I do.  We all liked Mike. But you won’t find me back in his class ever again. And for that matter, I won’t be in any class for a while…until my injured foot heals.  Prayers accepted. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley Here’s Sav’s experience Savanna 90x and the moment I realized I was out of shape Diana’s take: Diana The Extreme Workout In other news we grabbed Vietnamese coffee at Warhorse Coffee/The Goat Farm yesterday:

I won’t be surprised if “preserving youthfulness” ends up as an OCD category before I die.   Women will succumb to and pay for the wildest, [whatever works] remedies for a younger-than-the-truth look.  Guilty! I’ve explored an option or two in the name of preserving youth. Last week I tried a DIY microneedling procedure. The tool I used is pictured below. In this day and age, one would expect before and after photos or a video of me executing the procedure.  As much as I’d like to provide those, rolling micro needles back and forth over my face in a bathroom, while a camera stalks me, isn’t my style.  But here’s the tea if you’re interested: A few months back a medispa, Truffles (I just couldn’t resist checking it out because it’s located in our condo building),  recommended microneedling for an expression line between my eyebrows. I wanted to take them up on it right then and there, but doing so meant I was obliged to pay for needles to treat my entire face whether I wanted to or not. Rather than throw money down the drain I opted out.  Next thing I knew Savanna and a friend of hers, Kat, recommended a DIY micro needle roller that they both use.  I was surprised to hear they microneedled because Sav and Kat are young, fresh and beautiful. — Did you know that botox is recommended for people in their twenties now?  Paralyze that menacing muscle before the enemy wrinkles attack in the first stinkin’ place?  I guess the same goes for microneedling?  Wake that collage up already…hurry, hurry? — Amazon delivered a Lolysenta Beauty Care roller and Evolve Organic Beauty Hyaluronic Serum (recommended after care)  to my front door the day after I clicked: Place Order.  I’m sure you know the drill. Before I started “needling,” I made sure my face was cleaned thoroughly with a gentle cleanser.  Here is the video DIYMicroneedling that I watched before attempting this mild madness. The needles didn’t “hurt” as they rolled over my skin, but the sensation was prickly and “needle-like” all the same. Note: they did not and should not penetrate the skin (light pressure y’all!).  Apparently, in a medispa the needles do penetrate and slight bleeding is common though. When I was done rolling I had a flushed, pinky-red, awakened complexion that I’m thrilled to not have a picture of.  The next step was soothing hyaluronic serum and, of course, sterilization of the needling tool. Is microneedling worth the effort and money? Yes.  Personally, my skin needs a break from exfoliating.  Exfoliators are everywhere you look, even washcloths exfoliate.  Skin thins as you age, so a little exfoliating goes a long way. Microneedling doesn’t do that.  The tiny needles promote a “healing” process that stimulates collagen production. I’m optimistic about incorporating microneedling into my skin care routine. At age 57, preserving “youthfulness” is wishful thinking.  I just want to do whatever works and isn’t too painful so that friends, family, acquaintances and MYSELF continue to recognize me in the grocery store and bathroom mirror.  I wouldn’t say I’m OCD with “preserving youthfulness.” But…time will tell. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley Here’s another take on micro needling from Savanna: Savanna Dermarolling for better looking skin Diana Mom and Sav made me Micro-Needle On another note, I’m embarking on a drawing project.  I hope you’ll follow along in weeks to come:

How does pummeling heavy axes at a wall sound for a girls night out? Or a boys night out? How does axe throwing sound to you as a way to let anger and frustration out? Or, how about axe throwing for a fun, family weekend activity? The Sweeney/Garde family spent last Sunday afternoon heaving heavy axes at a wooden wall target, just down the road from where we live in Atlanta.  BadAxe If chucking axes with all your might sounds crazy, rest assured I thought the same thing.  What? Who? Where? Why? I gave serious thought to sitting the axe throwing adventure out, but the Savanna and Diana gave Jeff the gift of axe throwing for his birthday so, of course, I wanted to join them.  And as it turned out, a lot of fun was had by all! Arrival – We barely had one foot in the door before being asked to finger-nail sign liability releases via our cell phones.  Of course none of us read a single word of the contract. But we were confident that no matter what happened, how heinously bloody, how painful and unexpected, how accidental and unintended, Bad Axe would be responsible for zero of it.  Got it…sort of…. The inside of Bad Axe Throwing is similar to a large barn with stalls lining the perimeter.  It’s a large, open and airy space with plenty of room to move around — a nice feature but I couldn’t help imagining someone “losing it” whilst axes flying all over the place. Heaving an axe against a wall takes some getting used to. I figured it out quickly and rather enjoyed watching and hearing the intimidating blade gouge it’s way into the wooden target by way of my strength and energy.  It wasn’t long, however, before I discovered that you shouldn’t wear new, unsupportive shoes. The weight of the axe overhead eventually caused me to slide around in my never-worn-before, slippery shoes. Tip: Wear sturdy shoes. THE WHAT & THE WHO – Axe throwing is an athletic, coordinated, challenging, [social] activity for men and women. THE WHY – Axe throwing is something NEW to do!  Along with socializing, you get to satisfactorily pummel anxiety, frustration and aggression against the wall and leave it there. THE WHERE – Atlanta, GA and many other cool cities! (I’m not surprised a fun axe throwing venue is in our backyard. Westside/ATL is the center of the universe (IMHO).  Disagree?  Please share where you think the center is because we want to explore it! Here’s Savanna’s thoughts on Axe Throwing: What a Bad Axe I am BAD at AXE throwing Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley Everybody stand back!

Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone!  Do you have special Valentine memories? I hope February 14, 2020 will be “Happy” for you indeed.  Jeff and I are double-dating on V-day this year. More on that, after the fact. For some reason, I always manage to think about people who don’t have a “Valentine” to be with on 2/14.  Forced holidays such as V-day can be a bummer for some. Valentine’s Day was my favorite holiday to celebrate when I was in grade school.  Do you remember your mom buying a flimsy, cardboard box of valentines so you could give every student in your class a greeting on “party” day?  The cards were so darn cute back then. And everyone received one. Some kids randomly stuck nameless envelopes in boxes. That wasn’t my cup of tea, so to speak.  I always addressed mine carefully choosing precisely who got which card.  How embarrassing it would have been if Jimmy received a big, red heart reading: “Be My Valentine”…instead of Mark!  (I can feel my face turning bright red right now!) I also remember the excitement and suspense of opening a card from my crush-of-the-day.  Annoying butterflies swirling as he walked by and dropped the tiny envelope in my box, hoping [praying] he bothered to print my name on the outside.  Further hoping that the card had a kitty, princess, pony, flowers or other pink brickerbrack on it. And then, of course, there was adapting to various disappointments.  For instance, if I received an unaddressed envelope containing an astronaut telling me that I was “A-OK,”  that would not exactly make my day. So…to save myself from broken-heartedness, and as a last resort, I’d scrutinize the pencil-printed signatures on the back of the sensitive card in question.  My 8-year-old brain would try valiantly to decode for instance: an over-sized M, hard-to decipher A, an unusually small R, and even smaller K.  Maybe, just maybe, Mark was trying to tell me something with his cryptic penmanship? Ahh, life goes on and now I have my favorite and forever Valentine, Jeff, to celebrate with.  But, sadness for others still visits. I received little, black, heart bracelets at a Church of the Apostles concert a few weeks ago (below). If you’re Valentine-less, I will send you one (triangleparkatl@gmail.com). The message is simple: you’re never alone, Jesus is always with you and loves you more than any human has the ability to. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley My next Flash Fiction story is in the works.  Here’s a sneak peek:  “GoAhead”

Uno-Universe (1U) is what it boiled down to. There is and always will be only one universe that we all exist in. After I invented 1U, I could face and understand the scary, crazy realm my friend, Elliom and his obese ego lived in. But, don’t call me a genius yet. I basically coined 1U from the ‘ol: face your fear and you’ll discover there was nothing to fear at all, which is what I did in the bathroom mirror. And, you can’t conquer fear until you name it, which is why I named it, IU. So, I can’t take full credit but I will take most of the credit because it was me, after all, who saved Elliom from his fake self. Elliom had been driving me nuts for about five years. Every second of every day he thought the world revolved around him, and to a certain extent, in his mind, it did. But, I couldn’t deny or take it take it any more. No, the world and everyone in it isn’t functioning around your ego cravings: where you go, who you’re with, what you think, what you do, what you say, what you eat, what you wear, what you buy, what you sell, what you know, who you know. No! Just NO, I tried telling him: you’re not all that and a bag of chips. But, he wouldn’t, [couldn’t], listen to me. Once, I asked Elliom if he thought he was Jesus? Of course he said no, but get this, he paused. The son of a gun paused; he had the audacity to ponder whether or not he thought he was as important as Jesus is. I couldn’t make sense of Elliom’s self-assurance. It didn’t add up. Because, when no one was looking or listening, Elliom admonished himself up one side and down the other: you’re a loser, a wannabe, and an insecure baby. It wasn’t only Elliom’s day-to-day associates that stayed in check; newbies caught wind of his lofty, enigmatic energy and swiftly followed suit. Pledge Team Elliom or clash, I say! But, slowly, gradually his buried sorrow burned hot and melted his confidence armor away. Elliom’s self-assurance was as real as a plastic pistol. Like a 3-year-old with a toy gun, on an unsupervised playground, with nine other 3-year-olds around, Elliom had everyone in his universe thinking he was all that and a big, bag of salty chips. So long as all nine kids think the “big kid’s” toy gun is real, he reigns supreme. Likewise as long as Elliom’s crew stayed swayed by his lofty guise he remained on his throne. Here’s what stopped Elliom’s marbles from rolling every which way. A single soul cracked the code. This one guy (#1) pushed back on Elliom. #1 uncovered that Elliom wasn’t the self-assured, walking-talking success machine that he purported to be. #1 put Elliom’s fake haughtiness front and center by confronting him first thing in the morning every couple of months over five years time: “Good morning buddy, here we are again and I’m pleased to tell you it’s going to be a good day; a very good day. I’m here to tell you you’re not as great as you think you are, Elliom. I’m here to tell you it’s going to get better. You’re no different than the rest of us. You’re no better than a bag of chipped marbles. Face it; you’re chipped like the rest of us! Get going Elliom! Work on keeping the polished marbles you have left snug in your bag. Otherwise, your marbles are going to roll out all over the place, maybe crack. You’ll lose your marbles if you don’t face your fear, my friend. And who knows who else may crack and get hurt by you? It was that simple. I couldn’t take it any more. The show mustn’t go on. I couldn’t act even one more day. There I was facing my biggest fear in the world, [Elliom], in a bathroom mirror that needed cleaning, at 5:49 a.m. Fear lost. Elliom won; I won. There is one and only one universe. It is safe to be who we Truly are. Thank God. Sincerely yours, Elliom, 1U Thank you for reading. Love, Shelley Savanna’s latest blog Heated workouts: It’s getting hot in here

Hi Everyone, I hope you’re doing great! How are your ’20 Resolutions shaping up? Have you conquered them? Failed? Decided to forget about them? I hope the answer is: VICI! I just happen to have an update on mine: Pickleball – I continue to challenge Jeff and I continue to lose. But, please don’t forget I did beat him uno time! My motto is: be challenged, work thy booty off – there’s reward when the playing field is leveled. I’m just grateful that he plays with me. I can’t speak for him, but I hope he’d tell you that his wins have been hard fought! Narrow Down Empty Nest List – Presto: a narrowed down list: Artistic Endeavors (blog, flash/short stories, draw) Travel far away so I don’t think about it so much Volunteer Get a job bit the dust Go back to school bit the dust Beg girls to blog with me until I die bit the dust Hope to be a babysitting Grandma soon bit the dust Two out of three of my 2020 resolutions are VICI! If it sounds like I’m bragging, forgive me. It’s not because I think I’m amazing and have this “goals” thing figured out. Hardly! My third resolution: Get Mom Using Cell Phone – Is far from conquered. And worse than that, I haven’t a speck of confidence it ever will be, especially by midnight December 31, 2020. In fact, I’ve been waiting to write this blog because I’ve been very so hopeful to report fantastic news: Y’all! Mother called me from her cell. I have her number in case she loses power in her home. Which, btw, happened a few weeks ago. Thunderstorms and tornadoes blew through Atlanta knocking out power from Buckhead to Dunwoody. We couldn’t get in touch with Mother and though we weren’t terribly worried, there was concern because we couldn’t reach her. My sister, 3,000 miles away, called Mother’s neighbor who walked over to her house in whipping wind and rain. Long story short, I/we recently insisted upon Mother activating the antiquated cell phone that she has. Monitoring this task is similar to asking a toddler to rearrange their bookshelf. [She likes it the way it is and sees no point in doing it.]  Prayers accepted. Stay tuned… Thanks for reading! Love, Shelley Add In: I’m adding flash fiction stories to blogs. Originally they would be 333 words or less, but I’m adhering to overall flash rules of under 1500 words (never over 2,000). A while back, I completed a creative writing course through The Writers Bureau/UK. The attached is a second place winner in a recent competition that I thought you might enjoy. FamilyMeal  All I can say is, it stuck in my mind. I had to read it more than once and even asked my family to weigh in before fully grasping what the heck was going on — comments, thoughts, and opinions? If my stories are unpolished and not ready to share (like this week), I’ll seek others. I hope you enjoy them! Diana’sBlog Apartment Hunting in NYC Fotos For Fun: Heated workouts: It’s getting hot in here Simple Contact FormPlease enable JavaScript in your browser to complete this form. Name * First Last Email * Comment or Message * Message Submit