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  • Dream Digs

    Hi Friends, I hope you are happy and content no matter is going on in your lives. Stay thankful and humble, even if smelly things are wafting about. Have you ever wanted to do something that you weren’t formally trained for? Write code? Prosecute criminals? Remove a tumor? Design a house? Designing dream digs from an architectural perspective is an old dream that has re-emerged as a new hobby for me. Not "decorating!" Decorating a home doesn't get me going. I keep the decor in my house pretty simple (most of you know that). Because if it (me) gets flustered with texture, accents and color pops I end up changing it, soon. But when it comes to: arches angles heated flooring french doors castle towers with built-ins elevators a laundry shoot two-master suites radiator heat central vac dual kitchen with nook hidden rooms sun tunnels and skylights dog bath station smart wiring Now my engines are revved. I’m not saying we’re building a house. Albeit, I am designing one, poste haste. Ideas, input, experience, welcome. A brick wall needs no decor added. It's intriguing in and of itself and arched doorways are a must in my dream design. My dream kitchen is not big. This midway landing to an oval study would be welcome in my dream digs. Whether bay windows or a castle tower, both are welcome to land on my plan. Do you like the angled door entry on this home? Charming or distracting? Built-in benches along staircases, in mudrooms and around kitchen nooks are a favorite of mine. Windows that open "out" versus up and down, thumbs up. Using our current, narrow lot as a blueprint base, various aspects of the four homes below would be puzzle-pieced into my dream digs. Black and white checker board flooring is a positive! And quite possibly there will be more than one brick wall. I don't have many obsessions but black and white flooring is undeniably one. An elevator? ? We're not getting any younger. So yes, an elevator for sure. Admittedly, fear of getting stuck in it has crossed my mind but so has falling down stairs. Secret rooms are not-so-secret trends in custom built and new construction homes. A nice get-away? Ahhhhh! Radiator heat! My dream digs, heated-environment!!!! [emphasis added] Heated driveways are also a thing. Atlanta doesn't necessitate one but it sounds nice if you live in a snowy region. Ideas? Down the road, we'd love to hear them! Speaking of down the road. In my dream dig design there will a carriage/garage/work space to accommodate Jeff's multiple car babies. Speaking of car babies, did you hear that one of the babies was injured? Not to worry. She'll be out of the hospital soon. Actually, we can do things that we don't have formal training for...in our own way. Thanks for reading! Love, Shelley Acts 2:17 And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.

  • Routine Routines

    Got routines? Morning routines? Daily routines? Weekly, annual routines? Some of us are more committed to routines than others? I know that’s true because I, Shelley Sweeney, change-up my so-called routine often. --The only routine I’m married to is morning coffee and cleaning a cat pan.-- Albeit, I'm obliged to enable various family member routines... Routinely, Jeff picks mom up after golf on Saturday afternoons. This is the one and only field trip that gets mom (92) out of her house and into a different environment. She relies solely on my [emphasis added] family's participation to switch up her scenery. This past weekend she moaned that the event was "out of her routine." That's funny because the routine never changes: Jeff picks her up She visits Buckhead for 3 hours Dinner at Carbonara Back to her house We combined the routine last weekend with Diana's annual, move-back-to-law school going away party. We fill Gam's house with our presence. Carbonara was hopping and popping, packed with humans. The world is abundant with bad news...why not eat, drink and be one big, happy, human family...? Along with our presence, we brought presents of laughter. And more laughter... And time-out calmness... At the end of the day...we took Gam on a field trip to cloud 9 heaven (what does Cloud 9 even mean?). As life always goes, we had to battle demons too. Limoncello cake for dessert was pure sin. Lord please forgive us... So-long Diana and thank you Elijah for helping her move back to the Champagne lair. Phew, that's a lot of routine pomp and circumstance, human stuff. I'm looking forward to sitting around the house with the pets. Thanks for reading! Love, Shelley Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right. Honour thy father and mother; which is the first commandment with promise; That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth. - Ephesians 6:1-3

  • Cotswolds England - Backroads

    Ever heard of Backroads? They're an "active" travel company based in Berkeley, California. Make that a premiere active tour company. Or, so they deem themselves (I wouldn't disagree). If you're among the active sort and you prefer to travel active as well, chances are you'll be a fan of Backroads. For a dismal three years, Covid brought our (and everyone else's) international travel hobby to a screaching halt. Jeff and I were thrilled that 2022 would be the year for international travel lovers to get back to flying over seas. Typically, we've always mapped out our preferred routes, activities and sites to see. Backroads entered our minds because we were at a loss for where to begin after being domesitcally contained for so long. Thus, we handed the reins of our first post-covid Europe trip over to Backroads Active Travel. Our route-mapping and activity-list making was in the hands of pros. And boy did they perform. We hiked, and hiked, and ate and ate all over Cotswold, England in active style. Our cup runneth over with charming villages, churches, castles, meadows, streams, and cozy eateries. A smorgasbord of English countryside! At times, I marvelled, never having dreamed that I would cover so much terriotory [on foot] around England. It was magical. All thanks to Backroads. There were meticulously groomed, extensive gardens: Fields of sheep grazing under blue sky: We hiked, and hiked over meadows, staying at homes originally build in 1697 (Barnsley House). We made friends with wonderful people, took selfies in our room that happened to have stupendous lighting. We hiked on, photographing homes and gardens galore. We hiked more, and more, and we continued hiking. The churches we passed by were spectacular. One had a robe in it that was hundreds of years old. We continued hiking. At times we followed a public footpath, and other times we hiked over private property. We kept going. And going. There was an evening where we learned all about how gin is distilled. I can't remember too much about it. Not because I drank too much. I barely sipped a taste. More because my brain isn't holding as much these days :) But I do know that all of the infused scents came from various items below (bay leaf, lavender, etc.). We tasted four different gins. I liked the one below best! We kept hiking. If it sounds arduous, it really wasn't. Except, one day I asked for ice in the hotel lobby after cutting a day short. No worries though, I was back at it the next day. We had lunch at a private home which was a special treat. The family lived on and ran a sheep farm. They were friendly, hospitable and made everyone feel welcome. We saw castles, and churches on the castle grounds. We had wonderful meal after wonderful meal. And then we kept going. We passed wildlife art structures and more castles. Onward again through lovely meadows, passing only one tree that had seen better days. The weather was absolutely incredible. We could not have asked for more picture-perfect days. Many churches in England have replaced the cross on the outside with a weather vane. I enjoyed seeing the occasional cross that still stood. We carried on again, Final evening reception where one of our guides, Ian, served Pims Cups, a Queen's favorite. Backroads isn't kidding when they say they're "active" travel. Being in shape is a good idea if you consider booking a tour with Backroads. However, any time you get tired, Backroads has it meticulously figured out on how to sweep you up and get you back to a premiere hotel. Their planning is truly spot on. Jeff and I are happy that we chose Backroads to get us back in the swing of European travel. Next time, we're looking forward to giving it a go on our own. And, hopefully, another Backroads jaunt will be in our future too. Maybe: Finland/Sweden... Thanks for reading! Love, Shelley Ephesians 5:18-20 Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

  • Rules at Rules (London's oldest restaurant)

    In spite of the name: "Rules," there really aren't any unique rules at Rules. Just show up hungry, order a lot of food and drink and you're good to hang out for two hours (after two hours, cheerio until next time). Upon arrival at Rules the maitre d' sweeps away your coat, umbrella, and whatever you'll hand him. The ambience is traditional, upper-snuff comfort. Wildlife trophies and old English paintings and portraits hang like wallpaper. Carpet stretches wall-to-wall providing pleasant, oldster acoustics. Think: homey. I'm not much of an alcohol imbiber per se, but when dining at Rules I've made it a habit to order a Black Velvet. Guinness and champagne served in an ice cold silver tankard comprises a Black Velvet. Highly recommend -- Cheers! Rules Backstory: Rules is the oldest restaurant in London. Thomas Rules opened it in 1798. For years I assumed there were "rules" to follow in order to dine at Rules. At least back in the day there must have been? Arrive in spiffy attire, use your finest manners, project a perky attitude...things along those lines. But as the correct story goes, Rules has nothing to do with following rules at all. The restaurant is simply named after Mr. Thomas Rules, the man whose vision spurred him to open it. Mr. Rules' life didn't continue toward a trajectory of success as one might assume given the restaurant is still running 224 years later. Sadly, Mr. Rules killed his wife and daughter, Elsie. Following the crime, he was committed to a psychiatric institution. Needless to say, he didn't go on to enjoy the success of his business venture. But, in spite of Greek-tragedy-esque beginnings, Rules lives and thrives 224 years later. Delicious food, drink, and atmosphere are at patrons beck and call. Does knowing the tragic back story of Mr. Rules murdering his wife and daughter taint dining there? Not really. Being a relisher of "truth is stranger than fiction," who-dun-it-mysteries, and the fact that we are all sinners, Mr. Rules sad story adds a cryptic essence to the 224-year-old culinary experience. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving. Colossians 4:2

  • The Reluctant Pickleballer

    My initial exposure to the sport of pickleball came in two flavors. Shelley started playing it indoors at a local health club and I would hear golfers tell self-deprecating jokes about it when their game soured. After a string of bad holes, “I should quit golf and take up Pickleball.” As Shelley continued to play and enjoy the game, my divergent views began to coalesce much more on the positive side. I joined her indoor Pickleball group a couple of times (when schedule or circumstances prevented me from joining my regular game of hoops), and despite the very confusing rules and scoring system I began to embrace it. At first, I recognized that it was a very challenging mix of strategy, hand-eye coordination, and even a hint of athleticism. I watched and learned from players who clearly demonstrated that any one of those facets can be used to great success. Pickleball then became another opportunity to let my competitive side shine through as I strove to improve my game. Vicariously through Shelley at first, and then directly, I also discovered the next great thing about Pickleball: it is an incredibly social sport. Shelley started playing in a few groups at our golf club, and quickly found both a new set of friends and the fact that it is an even better game played outdoors. A nod to its popularity and social draw, Ansley Golf Club added a third dedicated Pickleball court last year to its racket-sports facility. And to put those courts to good use, the club regularly hosts both league play (shout out to Shelley and her team for winning the inaugural league season!) and mixers. Last night, we played in our 3 rd mixer---this one with an 80’s theme, hence the headbands and neon in the photos. They just get more and more fun, and I now realize that I am not such a reluctant Pickleballer after all.

  • Recreational Pickleball

    Hi Triangleparkers, It's been a while since I last put fingers to keyboard for a blog. But when I heard the fam would be blogging about pickleball, I simply couldn't say no. Last Sunday, my parents, Diana, Elijah, Joey and I all met up bright and early at 9 a.m. to play 3 - yes 3 - hours of pickleball. We all had varying level of experiences. To paint a picture, I will rank us all 1-5, with 5 being pros. Diana (2): A former tennis pro, but zero pickleball experience or knowledge of the game. Also very little free time to read up on the rules as her job as a summer associate keeps her very busy. Elijah (4): A natural athlete, with little pickleball experience. Joe (4): Also a natural athlete, plays tennis regularly, with 20 or so games of pickleball under his belt. Me (2): While I could probably out-cardio all five of them, I am not competitive nor do I have much of a strategic mind while playing sports. I just feel lucky to get it over the net. I also have the experience of about 20 games, but I regularly forget the rules. Shelley (5): Has played multiple times per week for over 3 years. Also won a club-wide competition. Enough said. #queen Jeff (5): Also has played multiple times per week for years. Also a natural athlete. So, as you can imagine the games were a bit mismatched. Let's just say Diana and I were always put on opposite teams. However, by the end of the 3 hours, we both had made some great shots and gotten our hang at playing. I care less about winning and losing, and more about the time spent together, soaking up some sun, staying off our phones and enjoying a mutual activity.

  • Pickleball Pain

    As I’m sure you all know by now, my parents have fallen in love with PickleBall. I’m talking “playing multiple times a week and entering tournaments” obsessed (and my mom even won a team tournament!). I had never played with them before, only watched, but I was always curious about what drew them to it. So when Elijah was visiting Atlanta last weekend, my parents, Sav, Joe, and I geared up to go play. And it was a lot of fun. Like I said, I hadn't played before, but I played tennis a bit in high school, which I soon discovered is very different from pickleball. We didn’t warm up or hit around before jumping right into a game so I was a bit shocked at first. The scoring is unintuitive and the feeling of hitting the pickleball with a small paddle is very different from tennis. But after some time getting used to it and learning the scoring, I decided I really liked it! Since there were six people, we played a rotating version of doubles so we could all be on the same court and get playing time. And the actual playing was a lot of fun. It has very similar attributes to tennis, and a lot of tennis skills translate well, but it’s different. The court is smaller and the ball bounces a lot less so there’s less running. Plus the ball goes a lot less further when you hit it. I think tennis can get a little intense, on a big court with a lot of running, so pickleball seems like the perfect happy-medium. That being said, I was QUITE sore the next day! It truly is a full-body workout that’ll surprise you with some aches and soreness. I really liked learning how to play and spending some time with the fam. Not sure if I’ll be as obsessed with it as my parents, but I sure hope to play more in the future and hopefully before going back to law school!

  • Addicted to Dinking

    Hi Everyone: What have you been up to as a family lately? Do you ever find it challenging to come up with activities that entertain and benefit everyone? Things that appeal to different generations while alleviating moans, groans and mucho moola? I have a suggestion for you: Pickleball! But [beware], there's a warning: Pickleball May Cause Dinking Addiction. (Definition of dink: The dink is a finesse shot, hit with an upward trajectory, that lands just over the net in your opponent's No Volley Zone.) The thing is, once you down that first dink it can be hard to stop. You’ll want to keep dinking and dinking and dinking. Before you know it you’ll be thinking about who to dink with next. You’ll find yourself settling for almost anyone who dinks. Complete strangers become acceptable dink partners with zero shame -- especially if you score with them. You’ll want to meet up again and again just for more scoring. Facetiousness aside, pickleball is far from frivolous. Pickleball is fun, athletic, energizing, competitive and, yes, addicting. According to The Sports & Fitness Industry Association (SFIA), pickleball is the fastest growing sport in the United States for the second year in a row. Pickleball grew just shy of 40% over the past two years (www.usapickleball.org). Who knew? I, Shelley Sweeney, have a dinking problem. Saying no when asked to dink is a work in progress for me. Pickleball started out as a low-key, fun activity that I picked up at a nearby gym. The ease of camaraderie and social interaction on the court attracted me most. But after discovering pickleball’s unique set of rules and aerobic offering I began taking it more seriously, incorporating it into my exercise routine. In other words, I became addicted to dinking. Eventually, I moved from playing indoors to playing [and competing] outdoors at a golf club. Indoor and outdoor pickleball are quite different and though I’d prefer not to be in the sun, outdoor play is more fun (IMHO). A golf club provides a more competitive environment which means watching what one eats, resting, and adding additional work-outs (pilates, Barre3, hot yoga, walking, whatever you choose) becomes prudent. Oh, the things pickleball fanatics do to keep a plastic, yellow, wiffle ball inside boundaries (30x60ft.) and just so high in the air to avoid the slam: Run Jump Twist Squint Huff, puff Shuffle Aim and, yes, Fall to the ground…all in the name of a point Have you heard of the five Blue Zones? They’re five places in the world where people live the longest and healthiest lives: Okinawa, Japan; Sardinia, Italy; Costa Rica; Ikaria, Greece; and Loma Linda, California. Five key things that these places attribute their longevity results to are: Family Social Interaction Activity Rest Diet If family, social interaction and activity make up a majority of things that lead to a long healthy life, pickleball has you covered. Here’s a great article on the Blue Zones that talks about Blue Zone advantages relating to pickleball. The fact that there is a sport whereby men and women spanning several generations (say, age 12 - 90) can enjoy together is incredible. And the cost of playing is minimal on public courts and in various gyms. Yes, it’s relatively easy to learn and compete in pickleball but I will say that rest and diet are imperative to supporting your body should you find yourself in a dinking addiction predicament, like myself. Live Longer, Live Healthy: Play Pickleball! Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley Here are fellow family member pickleball blogs:

  • Cheers to Champaign

    Back in June, when my mom and I were planning a trip to visit The University of Illinois over Labor Day, I frankly thought it would be quite boring. I knew we would have fun and feel fulfilled picking out furniture for Diana, touring the campus and overall helping her get settled - but it was not going to be a trip to Tokyo or Paris. When coworkers asked about my Labor Day plans, I mentioned I was going to Urbana-Champaign to help settle my sister into law school. A few were familiar with the area, and in fact commented on the desolate, boring nature of the towns. Well alrighty then. Much to my surprise, Urbana-Champaign lives up to its fancy name with amazing food, drinks and activities! If you're ever in the area, use my guide below to ensure a fun trip. I have to admit I'm a little bit jealous of Diana's new home and I look forward to visiting her again soon. Yes, it was that fun! Kofusion The Bi Bim Bob bowl here changed my life! The rice on the bottom of the hot bowl gets crusty and charred - IYKYK. Harvest Market The coffee bar here competes with coffee shops in NYC. 10/10 espresso drinks. Maize I had my first birria taco experience (thanks, Diana). This trend hasn't quite hit Atlanta yet, but I look forward to the day it does. Curtis Orchard This family friendly attraction has it all: a corn maize, apple picking, kittens, horses, a country store, goats and hay rides. I could have stayed here all day. Football Game (or basketball depending on time of year) If you happen to be in town during a home game, make the effort to go! It was a lot of fun and makes you feel like part of the community. Driving through corn fields The ambiance of Urbana-Champaign is relaxing in itself. I enjoyed driving through corn fields and channeling my inner Dorothy. We are happy to hear from Diana too: Having my mom and sister in Champaign for Labor Day Weekend was invaluable! I've only been here a couple of weeks and my apartment still needed a lot of work. They got right at it: cleaning, rearranging, decorating, and buying (much-needed) furniture. During well-deserved breaks, we went to amazing restaurants, a football game, and a beautiful orchard. The weekend flew by and I miss them already, but am so grateful for all their help and company! I'm excited to have them back again soon. Mom's Blog

  • Tender Times

    Hi Friends, I hope you all are doing well, living life to the fullest in spite of gradually descending until once again ascending…toward eternal life ever after… Supporting, tending to, being on call for, entertaining, loving, and most of all appreciating one’s mother in her 90s is a delicate dance to choreograph. Having immediate family around to help orchestrate is a blessing like no other. My family's unselfish, ready-and-willing help is valued beyond measure. Sometimes I wonder who the blessing of [my] family falls on more: me or mom? When I hugged mom this past weekend and during the last few visits she felt frail and boney. She seemed to cherish the hug. “Touchy-feely” has not been an adjective I’ve used to describe mom, ever. But these days when I arrive I find her leaning in for affection, human touch. This action is quite foreign for me yet appears a new normal for her. “The 90s Is a Time of Decline” is not exactly headline news? However, those words are quite frankly a new and sensational headline for me, personally. I’m experiencing new auras, times to be cherished with mom in her 90s. Whereas, a new baby has precious fleeting energies and actions that quickly dissipate yet mature, an elder (my experience) produces precious, current energies that remain and expand, albeit wither. Allow me to plug Barbara Karnes, RN, who I’ve mentioned in previous blogs. Ms. Karnes is an end of life educator who is immensely helpful in explaining the natural process of dying. She speaks in a soft, tender voice that will touch and reach anyone seeking to understand the process of death. I know, I know! Mom is not dying. I’m not saying she is. But, actually, guess what: she IS dying. So am I for that matter. And so is the entire rest of the living, breathing world. Diana’s boyfriend, Elijah visited ATL last weekend. It’s always a pleasure to have Eli at our home. He and Diana (also Savanna and my son-in-law, Joe!!) are always up for a visiting and/or helping Gam out. These four young people are way beyond their years with respect and admiration for elderly people. Okay, I’m going off on another topic. But still… Elijah and Diana cleaned Kroger's shelves of Deer Park water last weekend. They loaded 16 gallon jugs into my car, unloaded it and hauled it into mom’s house before lining all 18 containers (she already had 2) neatly up against the wall in her laundry room. Thank you Sweeney and Garde family, and Eli for choreographing and dancing with me not only this past weekend but always! (Note to self: Find out if Deer Park will deliver) The 90s are tender times y’all. If you’re on a similar journey I encourage you to check out podcasts by Barbara Karnes, RN. God Bless you my friends. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley So, I do indeed have a life outside of the elder-tend (Amen, Amen and Amen). We enjoyed a Sunday morning of pickleball-madness this past weekend. Fun in the sun sums it up!!!!!! P.S. I hope relavent ads interest you!!!! Versus annoy you...

  • Deer Diane

    You’ve probably heard that the queen of England is quite a sportswoman? The firearm she takes aim with on the cover of this article suggests at least curiosity. The title “Queen Elizabeth II: A Badass Hunter?" nearly tells a story, regardless of the question mark. My late father would have gotten on famously with Queen Elizabeth. Dad loved a good deer hunt: wake up in the wee hours, find a quiet place to burrow, wait, aim, fire, kill, drag, skin, chop, freeze, thaw, cook. Most of you know the drill. Queen D (my queen :) didn't fancy deer hunting. Mom's part in pop's hunting hobby was preparing the kill, ensuring it met adequate expectations of deliciousness. Speaking of deer, queen D often talks about deer hanging out around her home. She tells stories of deer with babies napping outside her kitchen window, lone does that come and go, and once early in the morning she spotted a small herd in the center of her front lawn. --Now, that wouldn't have been a very exciting hunt for dad!-- Jeff and I wined and dined our queen mother [again] this past weekend. We chose a favorite Italian restaurant (the one I've talked about a million times before) that happens to be close to her home, Carbonara Trattoria. (As we were leaving the restaurant, a tall, friendly, handsome man approached us happy to see queen D. It was her doctor of many years. I’ve accompanied mom to many doctor appointments and had never met or seen her doctor...often wondering if one really existed.) Guess who stopped by during our usual digitgal photo shoot? One of mom's friendly, neighborhood deer circled the house, staring at us, rather nonchalantly. Almost as though she was perturbed: excuse me, this is my turf, queen D belongs to me. I earnestly wanted to feed a carrot, celery stick or canned corn to the sweet doe. Queen D wasn’t on board for wildlife charity whatsoever, at least that night she wasn't. Mom is definitely not a deer-killer enthusiast or "badass hunter" like the real Queen. Nor is she one to enable wildlife. In fact, she’s never been an enabler of anything. Keep smiling, loving, and praying, my friends. Reaping what we sow is so, so true. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up - Galatians 6:7-9

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