You know I almost quit~

Good evening everyone out there from my home in south central Kansas.  It was an absolutely beautiful Indian summer day here with the temperatures in the mid-70's and a sunny, blue sky.  For nearly the last day of October, you couldn't have asked for better conditions and as I watch CNN in the background on my TV, how grateful I am to live where I do.  I cannot even begin to fathom what the good folks back in the north east are going through at this time.  My power is on,  my house still standing, and the car is full of gasoline.  The "plate" here at the Miller house overflows with goodness and yet I'm sure that I've felt like complaining sometimes today.  I'm thinking that even with the minor things that I perceive to be major problems sometimes, somewhere back in Tioga County, New York there is someone wishing to trade problems with me.  And if not there, then just pick any state back east you know of...trust me, there's several to choose from.  

Tonight as soon as I could get home from school, I decided to not let a moment of the remaining daylight hours to get away from me.  Changing my clothes as fast as I could, I jumped on my bike and headed out.  With such little daylight hours left after school, I've been glad for the last few days to get in a quick ride each day that I could.  Life in general has been a little on the stressful side here as of late and as I have said many times before, there is absolutely no better way to get rid of some of that stress than to get on a bike and ride like crazy!  (just a saying, please don't think I'm really riding like crazy)  I headed straight for my old stomping grounds, the Jim Martinez Bike Trail in the west part of the city of Hutchinson.

There is something about being on a bike that I just enjoy tremendously and as I rode down the path, coasting down the hills at about 20 mph, I had time to reflect on what all has happened in life for me since my August of 2011 accident last year.  I remember vividly having the feeling that it was probably better to just sell the bike rather than to have yet another accident on it.  I had just bought it brand new the spring of 2011 and I thought that if I wanted to get any kind of selling value from it, that I'd better do it quick.  I spent a great deal of time second-guessing myself, wondering all along  as I went from surgery to surgery, if I would ever have the courage to try it again.  The few times that I rode between surgeries never really amounted to much of a ride.  I went for 4 or 5 miles and then would turn around to go home again.  I was always scared of falling and once again breaking something and I think that fear prohibited me from returning to the kind of rider that I was before I got hurt.

Thankfully, now things are much different and rather than being fearful of another accident, I look forward to all of the challenges that I encounter.  I still hate to come across dogs (especially the ones that chase me), the wind is always blowing out of whatever direction I am riding into, and if I were to have a flat tire, then I'd be "UP" that infamous creek you often hear them talking about.  But as I rode along the path tonight, my overwhelming feeling is one of gratitude, of not being afraid to give riding a bike another try.  And for every bad thing that "old lefty" endured, there were a thousand other things that were blessings for me.  Tonight's 7 mile ride was one of them.

I was 55 years old when the Miller Bucket List had its conception as an idea.  It began as a way to chronicle my upcoming journey that year on the Bike Across Kansas.  It was to serve no other purpose than that, yet 428 posts later, I still enjoy writing about life.  I have had the opportunity to work through many of my bucket list ideas and the original list of 10 things has been written and re-written at least 8 times now.  One thing I have learned about keeping a bucket list is this~the ideas on it have to be "fluid" in nature.  What has looked like a good idea at one time in life, is not necessarily all that wonderful once you finally get the time to do so.  But for better or worse, my "Miller Bucket List"-8th revision, is listed below.  

1.  To power parachute once again.
2.  To canoe down the Ark River once more.
3.  To learn how to sew something for the very first time.
4.  To ride the Bike Across Kansas 2013 in its entirety~I only made it halfway across the state in 2011.
5.  To continue landscaping and redoing my backyard to make it more 'user friendly' for an older person (that's me)
6.  To connect with each of my Facebook friends in person, buy them something to drink and talk about life.
7.  To skydive.  (I cannot believe I am saying that!)
8.  To travel to New York City to see my niece Jessica and learn what it's like to live in "her" city and to spend a few days in the village of Owego, New York once again.  
9.  To learn how to drive a "standard" rather than an automatic vehicle.
10.To follow the advice of my good friend, who once said that I should never let my bucket list go empty because you absolutely cannot kick a full bucket.  

What ever you should do in this life my friends, whether you believe in the validity of a bucket list or not, I will always hope for you that you live your day as if it were the last one you might have and enjoy every moment of each passing day.  My yearly "trips around the sun" seem to go faster and faster.  For in as much as I am able, I will do as the "Good Book" admonishes us to do..."This is the day that the Lord has made for me and for you all as well.  So, we should all be rejoicing and be ever so glad in it."  Good night to you all on this the 30th day of the month of October, 2012~a great day to be alive in.

The spring of 2011~what got this whole thing started!  LOL

Eyes closed~Heart wide open

Hello everyone~I was so tired as I was writing this that I forgot to even post it!  So here's "yesterday's news" sent to you on the infamous "day after"!  Have a great weekend all of you.

It's night time now here in south central Kansas and this day has come to an end.  The weather for this October the 26th was sunny but chilly with a definite hint in the air that winter, in all of its glory, will be coming sooner than later.  But that part wasn't really important to me because no matter what,  I was going to use every available minute, be it indoors or outside, to celebrate the gift of another year of life.  And that, I do believe, was accomplished.  

This morning, bright and early, I made a trip over to the cemetery where my parents are buried just outside of Halstead, Kansas.  I should go more often, it's not like it's hundreds of miles away. The journey over took less than half of an hour.  Going to their grave site is like a family reunion with my brother Mike being buried right beside them and my sister, Janice, and her daughter, Kimberly just a short distance away.  You know, I always have felt as if I'd had some great conversations with my mom and dad over the years while they were still living.  Yet, I swear that some of the most meaningful ones, the most heart felt ones, have happened as I stood where they were buried.  Today was no exception.  

As I got out of my car, I grabbed the two bunches of silk flowers that I had bought for their graves and headed towards where they are laid to rest.  When I got to their headstone and attempted to stick the flowers into the ground, to no surprise I found the ground to be hard as a rock.  I did the best I could to stick them in, but unfortunately they just went in part way.  The old Kansas north wind kept blowing them around and I cannot guarantee how long they stayed where they were supposed to.  Yet for that moment in time, flowers of yellows, oranges and reds adorned the gravestone of my parents and they looked pretty nice.

"Hello you guys," I started out in conversation.  "It's my birthday today."  And I continued on talking to them as if they were sitting right there with me this morning.  I told my mom "thanks" that she hadn't stopped with her 5th child and that I was still grateful, even after 57 years that I was child #6 out of  7. Before I left, I did as I always do.  I touch each of their names and in my heart it feels as if I have given them a hug and a kiss.  Even though they have both been gone for so many years now, I still get choked up sometimes when I go there to visit their grave.  Today was one of those times.

Before I headed back to Hutch, I thought it would be a nice idea to stop in at my Aunt Beck's house in Halstead.  She is the last aunt that I have living and at the age of 99, still manages to live alone.  I hadn't seen her for such a long time and I feel bad about that.  She is the last of my mom's sisters and may I grow up to be "99" just like she has.  What an inspiration to me!  Here she is~

We sat to visit for quite a while and it was so wonderful to be in her presence.  We talked about life and how things were going for each of us.  She asked me about "old lefty" and when I rolled up my shirt sleeve so she could look at it, Aunt Beck did the most comforting thing to me.  She reached her hand out and began to inspect my arm, running it along all of the many scar lines that are now still very apparent.  She didn't know it at the time, but by doing so she provided me the "gift" of the power of the human touch.  It felt nice to me because I knew that she was doing it because she loved me and cared about the fact that I had been hurt.  And my heart and spirit were touched by her act of kindness.  Before I left, Aunt Beck made the statement that I often hear those who have reached such a milestone in years of age say many times before~"Peggy, you know I wonder sometimes just why I'm still here?  What good am I to anyone else?  I feel just like a lump sitting around most days."  And my response to her was that we never know who we might be helping just by "being".  Perhaps she has given someone the opportunity to pray for her or given someone the strength to keep going on in life just because they look at her life as an example.  And when I hugged her "good-bye", I didn't do it just once.  We hugged 3 times before I could get out the front door.  :)  As I left I told Aunt Beck that  I loved her very much and that I was grateful that today she was there for me!  Just one more reason to remember that our lives here count for some very good purpose and although we may not know why, someone else way more powerful and awesome than we are DOES know.

At day's end, I actually got a chance to work on an item from my "Miller Bucket List" when I went to the shooting range with one of my friends and learned about shooting a rifle and shotgun. A few weeks back, my friend for just about life, Ron, met me at the shooting range north of town.  There I had a lot of fun learning to shoot a hand gun and actually, for the first time ever even holding a fire arm, I felt like I'd done ok.  Yesterday, it was a "not so much moment".

It was late, nearly 3:30, by the time I met him out there.  I thought I had dressed warm enough for the October Kansas weather we were having but even the layers that I had on couldn't give much warmth from the north wind.  With the sun getting lower in the sky, literally by the minute, I knew we'd have to get a "move on" if we were going to have much time.  

I won't get into too many details here but let's just say this~it's a good thing that the Lord knew I'd never be able to make a living on the rodeo circuit as "Peggy Miller~trick shot artist extraordinaire" or something.  I learned in the first 5 minutes that shooting rifles and shotguns are a whole different thing than shooting handguns.  

While I was shooting a single-action rifle at my target, my friend Ron was shooting his 20 gauge shotgun at another.  He looked over to see that I was obviously struggling.  With a smile on his face he asked, "Peggy, do you need me to shoot a couple of holes in your target for you?"  My response back to him (sailor talk cleaned up), "No, I don't believe so.  Thank you."  30 minutes later, I wish I would have taken him up on it.  

All in all, when it was over I had only hit the target about a dozen times from 100 yards.  Now if I had only used up about a dozen rounds of ammo then THAT would have been a good thing!  As it was, I went through an entire box. There's some room to improve there, without a doubt.  It was frustrating but even at that I still had enough fun to want to be able to try it once again sometime.    

Before I left, I had the chance to shoot a 20 gauge shotgun several times.  Luckily, I still have a right shoulder left to tell the story.  I had some difficulty even with the strength I needed to hold the dang thing up and I learned fast why you best be having some ear protection on.  That "KABOOM" sound that you always hear can be deafening, literally.  That would take some getting used to for me, but actually I enjoyed shooting it more than I thought I would.  I will say that I did a pretty decent job of obliterating the small patch of ground around the leaf that I was not aiming for.  Here I am~

Well, day's end is here and I'm ready to call it a night.  The day of the beginning of my "57th year" has come and now ended.  I have been blessed beyond measure in all that I have done today.  The greatest gift that I could imagine having been given here on earth would be the gift of your friendship.  Thank you for that priceless treasure, all of you.  And to a very special friend of mine, who always provides a listening ear and truly cares about what happens to me, no matter what I might struggling with in this life~thank you for being the truest friend I ever had.  

Good night~sweet dreams to all.

20,819 days later~

My mom always liked to tell the story of how when she was pregnant with me and had gone into labor in preparation for my delivery, that her doctor was nowhere to be found.  Seems that the good "Doc Schmidt" had decided to go out drinking and dancing with his wife at one of the local clubs in Newton, Kansas at about the same time that a little baby named Peggy decided it was time to find out what this "being born" stuff was all about.  His nurses tried for several hours to find him to let him know that Lois Scott needed him and she needed him RIGHT NOW! They were having no luck at all.

I was baby #6 for my mom and with that in mind, the nurse (a Catholic nun named Sister Marietta) told my mom not to worry.  "We don't need him anyway Lois.  You and I have gone through this together five times before!" At just about the time that I would be ready to deliver, they heard his footsteps coming down the hallway, whistling a tune as if he hadn't a care in the world.  I don't know what my mom or Sister Marietta said to him, but I'm gonna guess that knowing my mom, it probably wasn't said with a "happy face" on.  At 10:32 in the morning I arrived and when Dr. Schmidt held me upside down and gave me my first birthday spanking, I started out on this journey called "life".  My father gave me the name "Peggy Ann Scott" and upon my conception, my parents' blood became mine and now so many years later as I type this, I realize just how special that makes me. 

20, 819 days later here I am, on the eve before I reach my 57th year.  This has been a strange week, a tough one, a REALLY rough one and I'm not kidding.  Without going into detail, just suffice it to say that I am surely hoping to never have another one like it again.  I guess some weeks are like that, not sure why though.  How well I now understand in life why it's good that we never know what lies ahead of us~how most of us would never have the courage to get out of bed in the morning if we did know.  I am positive beyond the shadow of a doubt that I would be one of the "afraid".  

Earlier this week, I lost my voice and it wasn't the kind of losing your voice that happens when you have a bad cold or laryngitis.  Rather, it was the kind of "losing your voice" that happens when you simply don't know what to say.  At times it seemed to be a depressing kind of week for one reason or another.  Every day it has seemed as though something has gone wrong and try as I might to fix it, there are just some things that are out of my hands.  Usually when I feel like that, sitting down at the computer and pounding on the keys to write a blog post is a sure cure for it.  But not this time.  I tried to no avail as I sat there looking at a very blank screen.   For two days I just didn't know what to say.  For some reason, the words are finally starting to come forth.

I must admit that I do not understand life sometimes~do you ever feel the same?  You know, here you are going along life's way, truly minding your own business and doing the best you can under some trying circumstances.  Then all of a sudden, out of the blue, things change in a moment's time and what you thought was safe and secure ends up being not the way you hoped it would turn out to be.  And you know what friends?  That can end up being a little scary, even for the bravest of souls.

The journey of Peggy Miller hasn't even been close to what my dear and sainted grandmother, Bessie Scott, would have called the journey down the "straight and narrow".  My life's road is a series of turns, hills and roads filled with giant potholes.  I am an alumni of "the school of life" and I keep having to go back for refresher courses now and again.  Pretty sure they will always save a seat for me there LOL.  The events of this week have just further proven to me that I am not, nor have I ever been, in charge of the events of my life.  Someone much smarter and greater than I will ever profess to be is in charge of my life, in charge of "the plan".  As I enter the first day of my 57th year tomorrow, I pray to continue to be cognizant of that fact and by so doing, my life may be somewhat easier.

I have a big day tomorrow~taking off a personal day from school to remember the blessings of reaching yet another year of life. Lots of things to do.  I plan to make a special journey over to my mom and dad's graves~to leave something for my mom.  Every year for the past 20 years or so I'd always sent her flowers on my birthday, thanking her for not stopping with child #5.  She always understood what I was talking about and rather than fussing about my buying them for her, Mom just said we'd enjoy them together.  When she died in 2007, the tradition stopped.  Tomorrow on the first day of my 57th year, it begins again.  I always wondered how they did it~how they raised 7 children that were spread out over a span of 17 years.  The older I have gotten, the more the realization sinks in how blessed I was to be born into this world in the first place.  

Friends, if your mom or dad are still living, please call them~if only to say that you were thinking of them.  I'll see mine in Heaven someday....until then, I just remember that my life is all a "part of the plan".  Good night everyone! 

Two of the women who had the greatest of impacts on the life of one young girl.  My mom, Lois Scott and my maternal grandmother, Bessie Belle Scott.  Both of them gone now~always will remember and love them.  (at Haven on Labor Day of 1978)

~Upon being where you figured you'd be in this life~

I was barely 14 years old when one of my older sisters, Janice, was killed in a car accident in early November of 1969.  It was a beautiful Indian summer day, much like it was here today in Kansas, and she was headed home after being gone for the afternoon. With her little baby nestled inside a car seat right next to her in the front, Janice started out on the route she had driven many times before.  She stopped at a stop sign on Highway 50, only 3 miles south of her home in the Sand Hills of Harvey County, and then headed out across the road.  The "Navajo" semi-driver that hit her car broadside told the Kansas Highway Patrol officer that she looked up at him and came across just as he was entering the intersection.  Because he was going faster than he should have been and pulling "doubles" behind him, it was impossible to do anything but hit her.  Apparently the glare of the November sun at 3:00 p.m. prohibited her from seeing him coming.  Janice was killed instantly and her little baby, my 9-month old niece, Kimberly was critically injured and life as we knew it to be was never again to be the same.

For a day we didn't even plan my sister's funeral.  With the condition of my niece, the doctors weren't sure but what Kimberly wouldn't succumb rather quickly to her own injuries as well.  If something would happen and Kimberly wasn't going to survive, then my parents wanted to make sure that they could be buried together.  There just wasn't much hope~Kimberly had two chances, the notorious "slim and none".  But the first 24 hours passed, then 48 more hours and miraculously she lived.  She would never be the same again, always bed fast without the ability to walk or sit up on her own, some very severe brain damage, and the saddest thing of all, she would be blind.  My parents took it in stride and made the decision early on that they would be her caregivers for the rest of her life and thus she came to live with us in our house. They were grieving the death of their own daughter and rejoicing in the fact that their granddaughter was still alive.  I cannot imagine how they would have really felt inside.

 Faithfully my parents kept their pledge to take care of her for as long as they could.  With deep regret, at age 13 Kimberly had grown so much in size that it was no longer a possibility for my parents to care for her.  She lived her last 10 years of "being" here on earth at the Winfield State Hospital.  Her life and death made a huge impact upon my own life and it was by knowing and loving her that I was able to become the teacher that I am today.

So fast forward now, 43 years later in the year 2012.  A lot of life has passed by and now I find myself alive and well, having lived nearly to an age 30 years longer than my sister was given.  I regretfully admit that I can barely remember what my sister was like and that's a sad thought for me.  I try to remember Janice's face, the sound of her voice, or the way she walked but my memories of her have all but left me.  I have no pictures of her any longer but in my mind I remember that she had blonde hair, green eyes and was built just like me.  Of little Kimberly the memories find themselves pretty deeply engrained in my heart and mind.  While she lived with us, Kimberly became more like our little baby sister rather than our niece.  Every trial and tribulation she went through in her life here, we all went through with her.  It was a privilege to help our parents be her caregiver and even in the sadness and grief of losing my sister and my niece 23 years later, we still felt blessed beyond measure.  Guess you would have just had to been there to understand that.

My sister and my niece both came to my mind at school this past week as I was teaching a group of 4th graders during one of the reading rotations of the day.  I had chosen a non-fiction book, the biography of Louis Braille, the man who thought up the Braille system that enabled people who are blind to read and write.  As I handed the books to the kids at my table, I could tell by the looks on their faces that they weren't too thrilled with the thought of learning about a guy named Louis.  In fact, one of them downright told me so.  You know, I was a kid once too and I understood their dismay.  I'm not sure I would have been any more thrilled than they were.  But then an inspiration hit me and really I'm pretty sure that "inspiration" was God giving me yet one more "whack upside the head".  A voice inside of me told me that I should share Kimberly's story with them and maybe it would make a difference in the way they looked at the book.  And you know, the "voice" was right.

I've told the story of the accident and Kimberly's 23 year struggle with her injuries to many students over the course of the last 35 years of being a teacher.  I've always been honest with them and have given them the facts as they happened.  My students would learn that her mother (my sister) didn't live and that Kimberly was just like a baby for the rest of her 23 years of life.  They know that she wore diapers, even as a teen and adult and that she got most of her liquid refreshment from baby bottles.  They laugh when I tell them that her favorite drink was Mountain Dew and that if she wanted to get our attention, all she had to do was give that bottle a toss out of her bed and we'd all come running.  And I tell them what it was like for her to be blind.

I always use the explanation of how Kimberly's sense of smell enabled her to figure out who we all were.  Because our family had a restaurant and service station in our hometown of Haven, Ks. Kimberly got used to the smells we had on us when we got home from work each day.  If one of us entered her room and put our hands inside of her crib to greet her, she would take our hand and put it up against her nose to "smell" us.  If we smelled like hamburgers and french fries, then she knew it was either me, my mom or one of my sisters.  If we had the distinct odor of gasoline or oil, then she made the connection that it was my dad or one of my brothers.  It was amazing what she could figure out even without her sight.  

As I told the kids her story last week, I could tell just by the looks on their faces that they were interested and all of a sudden this book about a guy named Louis Braille had an appeal to them.  They even started to open up themselves about people in their family who were blind and how it affected them.  After 5 minutes of discussion they were more than ready to begin the book and I told them how happy my sister and niece would be to know that their story had not been forgotten.  Amazing how the lives of two people, now gone for so very many years, would have an impact upon a group of 3 ten-year olds in Hutchinson, Ks.  And it made me very happy.

Next week Friday, come the 26th of October, if all goes well I shall turn another year older.  I'll be 57 at precisely 10:32 in the a.m.  I will have received the gift of life 30 years longer than my sister who left this place at the age of 27.  She was so young and I guess I never really thought about it as such until I started getting much older myself.  Since I've received the "gift" of this lengthy of a life, I have to stop and wonder to myself..."Is this where I figured that I would be?"  "Have I done what I set out to?"  "And when I am gone, will people left behind be able to use any of my story to teach others the lessons of life?"  I can only hope and pray it to be so.  

It's time for a reshuffling of the 10 items on the Miller Bucket List and I'm going to be using the days that lie between now and Friday to figure out just which ones are the most important to me to accomplish.  I'm giving myself the "gift" of taking one of my personal days off from school in order to celebrate "one more journey around the sun".  And when I celebrate the fact that I'm going to be only 3 years away from the age of 60, I shall do it for every person on earth, just like Janice and Kimberly, who never got the chance to do so.  What a gift, what a blessing!  

Have a great evening friends out there!  Take care of yourselves and take care of one another.  
Good Night :)  

She was a little girl once, just like me.  My sister, Janice, as a 10-year old.

The only picture I have left of Kimberly before she got hurt in the accident.  She was 8 months old here and her little blue eyes could see.  Even in sadness, God is still so good to us all.

~same corner, another year~

If it is indeed true what they say, that "laughter is the best medicine", then I know 4 girls that ought to be feeling pretty dang healthy this morning.  I was blessed to enjoy that great benefit of health yesterday as I rejoined a group of friends, those of my "youth", to spend time together in our hometown of Haven, Kansas.  Here we are, shown below, and the GOOD news is~we didn't get in trouble together, not even ONCE~

One of my "Miller Bucket List" items has been to reconnect and meet often with my friends on Facebook and others as well.  This "motley" crew stopped in front of our own meeting up place, in front of Paul Grier's drugstore, smack dab in the center of downtown Haven, Ks.  I'd like you to meet them~Joyce Bennett, Toni (Kuntz) Hiebert and Annetta (Grandon) Hoffmann.  These 3 gals were members of Haven High School's class of 1972 and they celebrated with others their 40th year since graduating from high school.  Since I was an "underclassman", a member of the '73 bunch, I was honoured that they would allow one of the little kids to hang around with them yesterday, and for the rest of our lives as well.

I would tell you that our day together began on that corner yesterday afternoon as we sat to watch the annual Haven Fall Festival parade go by.  But really it started in Hutchinson, a couple of hours earlier as we all "banded" together to help do something very special.  See that kid up there in the picture, the girl with the white shirt on?  That's Toni, who about a year ago now, decided that she wanted to start a "bucket list" for herself too.  And the number one thing on her list of things to do before she "kicked the bucket" was to go skating again.  Yesterday, her wish came true and we were all there to witness it.  She invited us to come and join her.

When we all arrived at the skating rink at the appointed hour of 1:30, two of us made it REALLY clear that we were there only to cheer the others on, take photos to document the event, and of course be the "standby" designated drivers to the Hutch Hospital ER unit.  But the ones who were brave (I actually mean crazy, but I'm trying to be positive here) laced up their skates and headed out onto the rink.  Just prior to entering the facility they posed for a photo, looking more like happy-go-lucky teenagers rather than the grown ups they are.

Here they are, the "bucket list" girl, Toni, with her good friend from high school Annetta and Annetta's husband, Bruce.  They dug out their old skates from the closet at home and packed them into their car for the long journey from their home in Denver, Colorado in order to help their friend Toni realize her dream of skating once more.

We were laughing from the "get go", heck we were dying laughing before we even got in the door.  It was a Saturday and every little kid in Hutch and their brother who was having a birthday party seemed to be there with us.  One could only hope that when it was all over, no one got hurt~especially us!  The last words out of Toni's mouth as she readied herself to go, skates laced up, were "You know, if we fall it's really gonna hurt!"  And with that, she was off.  

The first lap around, Toni did indeed fall but the amazing thing is this, she got right back  up and just kept going.  When Annetta and Bruce joined her on the floor, the way became easier and isn't that the way it is in real life?  Life's road can be really difficult to maneuver down on your own, but when one friend extends their hand to another to help, the journey goes a whole lot smoother.  That's what happened for Toni on about her 3rd lap around.  She had lost her forward motion and actually had kinda gotten "stuck".  Annetta caught up with her and offered her hand in assistance.  Never mind that they BOTH about fell then (LOL).  The thought was clearly there and it was a joy for me to be a witness to that act of simple kindness.  That's what friends do~they help one another, no matter if you are on the skating rink for the first time in decades or you find yourself struggling with any of life's other bazillion trials.  What a blessing.

I believe I can speak for the group when I say that it was a good thing that we had limited time at the skating rink before we had to be at Haven for the parade at 3 in the afternoon.  As it was, everyone had a great time, no bones were broken and we were able to leave Hutchinson relatively unscathed from the experience.  Thankfully I remembered to "check in" Miller's uncanny bad luck and Murphy's Law, (second cousins twice removed now) at the door with the skate rental guy.  "Old Lefty" and I were perfectly safe and the worst thing that could have happened to me, being run over by an errant skater as they flew over the retaining wall, never happened.  It was a very much "laugh until you cry" moment and I thank God for it.

The parade was great and it felt so wonderful to be back home in downtown Haven together as a group, even if it was just for that short period of time.  All the usual parade entries were there~politicians, the high school band, new cars and old ones as well, floats from all of the clubs in town.  The clouds that had threatened all along to bring rain at about the time of the parade's start time of 3:00, parted about an hour before.  The sun shone and the people lining the streets of Kansas Avenue were happy and in the finest of spirits.  You really couldn't have asked for a nicer Kansas "Indian summer" day in mid-October.  

As usual, good times don't last forever and all too soon we parted company.  I drove back to my home in Hutchinson with the biggest smile on my face and every once in a while, I'd remember something ridiculously funny that had happened in the hours before and break out into laughter alone there in my car.  I wondered, "What would people think if they saw me doing that?"  If they could read my mind and see into  my heart, then they'd realize that I'd just been to the "doctor" for my annual prescription of having fun and laughter with 3 good friends.  You won't find that medical visit on my Blue Cross/Blue Shield explanation of benefits page.  The love and care of our friends, well that's FREELY given~no charge, no exclusion for existing conditions....you are accepted as you are and we wouldn't have it any other way.

Well, times a wasting.  In just a few short minutes we are all meeting for one last breakfast together before we all go our separate ways.  I had a great day yesterday, one that I hope to have again next year, same corner~same time.  If you are reading this, then you are my friend and I thank God for you each and every day.  I would be lost without you all.  May I do for you some day, what you all do for me without even thinking.

Have a great day, Sunday the 14th of October, 2012~a great day to be alive in, a great day to be a friend.

~Be sure to get your dose of laughter today.  You can lower your blood pressure, increase your memory skills, improve your state of alertness, defend against respiratory infections, increase your blood flow and the oxygenation of your blood, and if NOTHING else, it's just fun!

Way to go Toni!  I'm so proud of you for doing your very first item on the "Hiebert Bucket List".  Nothing can stop you now so get going on Item #2, what ever that may be.  Love you friends, one and all.

~upon really living your life~

 I remember when my father passed away, now nearly 30 years ago at Christmas time, how strange it felt to come across other men out in public who so closely resembled him.  I might have been at Dillon's or K-Mart, perhaps even just walking down the street and there they would be~ironically amazing just how many "60 something", bald headed, spectacled men there were out there.  They didn't even have to look identical to my father in order to trigger the memory.  Maybe it was the way they walked. perhaps their build or the colour of their hair, or even the clothing that they wore.  But whatever it was, I would always have to pause a moment to look at them and remember my father in my heart.  I was only 27 when he died from lung cancer and I missed him then as I still do this day.

In the five years that have passed since my mom's death at age 87, it hasn't necessarily been the "physical appearance" of women I've encountered that made me think of her.  Rather, things like clothing worn or mannerisms used have put me in mind of my mom.  It took a long time before I was able to look at a "zip and dash" dress hanging on the racks at the local Sears store without a tear welling up in my eye.  When I saw elderly women with a pastel coloured sweater on of purple or pink, it was all I could do to not just go up and hug them or something, whether I knew them or not.  And of course, I am forever reminded of the fact that my mom would always stick a kleenix or two in her pocket that eventually might make the journey through the wash cycle on laundry day.  Her daughter (that'd be me) has become her now and truly, I do not know when that happened. It is, what it is. The bottom of my washer sometimes holds the remnants of what "used to be" unused tissues.

My father died young at age 59, especially "not old"  by my standards of today as I sit "poised" ready to celebrate birthday number 57 very soon.  My mom lived a pretty full life, yet it was with regret that she lived her last 4 years in a long-term care facility here in Hutchinson.  They were two very different people, each passing away at much different stages of life.  I cannot imagine what my father would have looked like or how he would have acted as an old man but I don't think he would have liked it very much!  I wonder what I will be like if I am here in the many years to come.  Will I be active and busy?  Will the years be kind to me?  Will I, of necessity, find myself living in a long-term care facility just like my mom did?  I do consider it now and then, especially as the precious gift of time seems to fly by and I go from one stage of life unto the next one.

One thing I do know for certain is this~I hope that when I finally finish "growing older" that I'm just like the lady shown in the photo below.  I'd like to introduce you to one of the sweetest women I believe I've come across in all of my 35 years of being a teacher.  Her name is Joan and I am pretty sure that she loves kids even more than I do.  And since I love them to the proverbial "moon and back", it's hard to imagine just how much love this woman has stored up in her heart for young people.

For at least the past 10 years, Joan has made the journey from her own home in the Arlington area to help kids at our school in the southern part of Hutchinson, Lincoln Elementary.  As a Youth Friend volunteer, she comes to Lincoln once a week to do whatever classroom teachers need the most help with.  I've seen her working with kids as old as sixth graders and as young as those in the first and second grade.  To Joan, "a kid is a kid"~no matter the age she likes working with and helping them all.

Joan spends a great deal of her time as a volunteer at our school reading with the kids.  Sometimes it's something from one of their lessons that they need a little help with. Other times it's their book for AR (Accelerated Reader) or a reread of one of their stories from the reading book.  And although I would say that the help she gives our students provides one heck of a boost for their reading abilities, I think there is something far greater that she does for them and that greater thing is this~When she sits "shoulder to shoulder" with students, listening intently to every word they are saying, Joan is building relationships.  Her very presence in their midst is a testament to the fact that she really DOES care about what happens to them.  She has a vested interest in their individual success and any child she works with can readily see that.  It is never difficult for Joan to find a student to read with.  The minute she walks into a room, a host of hands fly up in the air saying, "Pick me!  Pick me!"  Couldn't ask for a better reason to drive 35 miles each week.

I asked her a few weeks back, what was it that made her want to come and work with students at our school.  I mean, really~couldn't she have been doing something more fun or relaxing elsewhere?  What was the reason for her nearly decade long journey to Hutch each week?  Her answer was forthright and simple, and given freely from her heart.  She told me that it felt good to be needed and that even at her age, there was still SOMETHING that she could do to help others.  Joan took pride in the success that the students showed.  Her words of encouragement, especially when children were struggling with reading, provide the impetus for a student to continue to work hard and bye and bye to improve their reading ability.  I applaud her noble efforts, I commend her for having a "heart" to help children.

Oh, and there IS one other thing I like about her~Joan and I see "eye to eye", literally.  It is seldom that I come across another person the same height as me or even a tad smaller.  I may have an inch of height over her, but not much more than that.  And one other thing, in a way sad but in a way kinda nice really.  One day a few weeks back as she was getting ready to check in at the office, I noticed her standing there and even though she wasn't wearing a pastel coloured sweater over a "zip and dash" dress from Sears, she still put me in mind of my mom for some reason.  And all of a sudden, before I could even stop myself from doing it, I went over to her.  I put my arm around her shoulder and looked her square in the eyes and asked her, "Hey, if you are not too busy with a lot of other stuff, would you sometimes want to be MY mom?"  And you know what she said?...she said "YES".

May all of us, no matter how many years we find next to our age, still continue to live life to its fullest.  No one knows how many days we are blessed to be here, but for each of those days it sure seems right and fitting to do everything we can to help out the world that  we live in.  I think that's what Joan does and when I finish "growing older", then I pray to have become just like her.

Good Night Everyone!    Wishing for all of us, a peaceful night's rest.

~upon getting there before it's over~

It hit me like a "bolt of lightning" as I was making my journey along the mile long path I walk each evening.  I'd just about made it to the corner where my good friend Michael lives when I noticed it.  The sun was going down in the western sky and for the life of me I don't know why but I had this awful sense of urgency in me that I had to take a picture of it before it disappeared forever (well at least for this day) behind the horizon.  I was still a half a mile from my home on 14th Street and if I was going to make it there in time to grab my camera and drive to the best spot to get the photo, then I was going to have to hurry, and hurry fast!  

By the time I hit the front porch steps and checked the Hutch News from today to find out when the actual sunset time would be, I realized I only had about 16 minutes to spare.  So off I went...no clue where I'd actually find it but that didn't matter.  I just started driving west.  I knew that if I could make it to the top of Rayl's Hill, just west of the city, that I'd have a decent chance of still taking a picture of the sun setting.  Of course, "Murphy's Law" and "Miller's Uncanny Luck", second cousins twice removed, met up with one another in the form of the slowest traffic on record for the west side of town.  It's weird, you know, to give so much value to the insignificant 60 seconds, the "lowly" minute.  But when you only have 15 of them to begin with and traffic is slowing you down, each one of them is nearly priceless.  

With about 5 minutes to spare, I managed to find the sunset on 4th Street at the top of Rayl's Hill.  I parked next to the monument to President Warren G. Harding, honouring his visit to Hutchinson on June 23, 1923 and with camera in hand, I began to take photos of a beautiful Kansas sunset as that big old orb slipped further into the faraway horizon.  Greetings to you all from my side of the earth~

     The Kansas setting sun just west of Hutchinson on Rayl's Hill~October 8th, 2012

I continued to watch the sun go down, long after I had stopped taking photos of it.  For some strange reason I can remember as a kid looking into those skies filled with puffy clouds, just like this, and feeling that those beautiful, brilliant clouds were where Heaven was.  You know, as an adult, I still feel the same way.  

I'm not all that sure why I just felt compelled beyond belief to capture the sunset tonight.  I most certainly did not set out on this evening's walk to do so.  And if I were honest, and I do TRY to be, I'd have to admit that I know that my "chasing of the sunset" tonight really probably in all actuality stands for something more than that.  And in my mind, I already know that the "something" that it really stands for is something that has weighed heavily upon my mind in the last few days~and that would be the way this life passes us all by so very quickly.  Even though I preach nonstop in this blog and in my visits with family and friends in real life about life's "brevity", I still know that I waste precious minutes each day by not doing the things that are the most important to me in this life.  As hard as I might try, I still fall short more times than not.  Please don't give up on me and if you find yourself in the same "proverbial boat" as I am, then I shall not give up on your either friends.  

I've already crossed off "finding the most beautiful sunrise and sunset in the world" twice from my Miller Bucket List, yet it really doesn't matter.  What I have learned is that every rising, every setting of the sun can be the most beautiful~it all depends on what you are chasing them for.  I keep plodding on, just like you all do every day.  My journey in life, as well as yours, has been filled with unbelievable heartache and pain as well as unimaginable blessings and love.  When the time comes that my life here is finished, be it next week or in 40 years, I just want to leave remembering that I did all that I set out to do.  May the same be for you all my dear friends~as you live each day to the fullest.  Peggy Miller's Bucket List is not so much a list of things to do before I die but rather a wish for life and life full!  

Have a beautiful evening friends and family.  Hasn't this been the greatest of days to be alive in?

I have loved every photo that I've taken with children over the past 35 years of being a teacher, but this one will probably always be among the most special to me.  My last class of ESL students at Avenue A Elementary in the year that I retired from teaching (LOL, yeah like that lasted) in 2010. 

Dan Fogelberg - Part of the plan

I've nothing really profound to say this day and actually, I'm almost "speechless".  (yeah, yeah, yeah I know!  LOL) The words of Dan Fogelberg's song "Part of the Plan" can relay the message so much better than I can this day.  What I will say is this~how amazing it is, the people who come in and out of our lives at just certain times, the "right" times according to the timing  of the "Master of making plans".  Sometimes I'm overwhelmed with gratitude in the knowledge of the many friends that the Lord has blessed me with.  If you are reading this, then you are one of them. My life has certainly taken a lot of twists, U-turns, and stops along the way.  But I still know where I'm going because I will remember always where I've been.  Whatever the "plan" is for your life my dear friends, may you be blessed as much as I have been along the way.  Have a good Sunday afternoon~and as my favourite TV personality of ALL time continues to say, "Keep your stick on the ice.  We're all in this together!"  Thanks Red Green and thank you friends. 

I am STILL more determined to make it to the end than I would EVER be afraid~

~upon the roles in life being switched~

Her name was Amy Elizabeth Beal and she was the cutest little red-haired girl imaginable.  I had known her since she was a tiny baby and in the fall of her first grade year at Haven Grade School, I was blessed to become her teacher.  Perhaps over a thousand kids have come into my life in the past 35 years of being an educator, each one of them very special in their own way.  My memories of Amy will be of a little girl with a voracious appetite for learning ANYTHING but especially to read and understand the written word.  One of my "Miller Bucket List" goals has been to catch up with all of my Facebook friends in person, buy them something to drink and visit about life for a while.  Amy is my friend on Facebook as well as a personal friend for life~I was able to catch up with her today for a short moment in time.  Here we are~and as you can see Amy grew taller, I didn't.  Hard to imagine now that the sweet little girl with red hair has now grown into a beautiful woman, married and with 3 children of her very own.  

Some time back, I asked Amy if she would help me with one of the items on my bucket list~to learn how to sew something for the very first time in my life.  You see Amy, among MANY other things, is an accomplished seamstress.  She has her own business, Mabel and Mally's Closet-keeping quite busy doing custom orders for people, primarily little girl's attire.  Amy is a "self-taught" seamstress who pays great attention to detail and her work is of exceptional quality.  Amy graciously agreed to help me learn to sew in an unusual twist of fate~this time I'll be learning from Amy, rather than her learning from me.  The things I never expected as I sent that little 7-year old out the door that year~that one day I'd be having to follow her directions for a change.  I think this will be pretty interesting. 

I'm not sure why it is that I have this burning desire to learn how to sew something for the first time.  You'd think that at nearly age 57, learning to sew would have become a priority many years back.  It did not.  When I was a senior in high school, now 39 years ago, it was customary for the girls to take home economics and the boys to take woodworking and shop.  Don't even know how it was that way of thinking ever came about~all I know was that it would have been unimaginable for it to have been done any other way.  Now, I hated the idea of having to take home ec. and couldn't even imagine why on earth I'd need to know how to sew or cook.  I plead my case with my folks  who surprisingly agreed with me and also provided the parental signature I needed to opt out of the class.  And so it went, finding me today a nearly 57-year old woman who cannot even sew a button on if I had to.  Shoot, I can barely thread a needle without messing it up.  Perhaps that shall be soon to change.

As Amy and I spoke earlier today, we both decided that making pillowcases would be a good thing for me to try as a first project.  (I say that as if there's gonna be a SECOND project, oh boy.)  She told me exactly how much material to pick up and several ideas where good fabric can be purchased in the area.  Even though we are a couple of weeks away from my "lesson", I decided to go ahead to buy the material today so I wouldn't "chicken out" in the weeks ahead.

Making the 20-minute drive over to Yoder,  I found one of Amy's "stores of choice", a place called "Demelia's".  They specialize in the handling of quilt-making materials and all you have to do is open their front doors and your eyes can "feast upon" rows of gorgeous colours and patterns. Since I've probably bought the equivalent of 4 yards of material in my entire life, I knew I was gonna need some help so I just headed straight to the counter and told them why I was there.  They could not have been more helpful.  Instead of saying something like, oh I don't know, "WHAT?  You're kidding~a woman YOUR age doesn't even know how to sew?", they told me that it was never too late to learn and that probably this would be the first of many things I would make.  I'll be the first to admit they have more confidence in me than I do in myself but at least they gave me some hope.

I came away with a colour combination that I never thought I would choose but I think it's ok to be different once in a while.  I could tell that I need to get out more often when I stood there, mouth agape, watching them cut the material for me.  In less than a minute's time, they had sliced that material into the proper measurements using something that to me looked like a pizza cutter.  And as I paid for it at the register, I got a crash course in what "fat quarters" were.  Hey, I had heard of them but didn't realize what they were used for.  All of you women reading this who already know how to sew, please forgive my ignorance.  Perhaps I shall be considered a sewing "late bloomer".

For now, the pillowslip "makings" are stored away in the closet.  Some day in the next few weeks when things slow down for her family, Amy and I will get together and she shall teach me to sew.  They will be things that will serve their utilitarian purpose by the way.  I have no intention of storing these away in a linen closet only to be looked at, and not used.  I'll be looking forward to the first night that I can lay my head upon the pillow that is covered by them.  May they help to provide some peaceful nights' rest and sleep.

Anything left in life that you want to learn how to do?  Something perhaps that you've been putting off as long as I have been procrastinating about learning to sew?  If so, what are you waiting for?  Now just may be the right time to give it a try.  I don't think you'll regret it if you do but you just MIGHT regret it if you don't.  

Good night everyone!  Have a great evening.

The first grade classes of Haven Grade School for the 1981-1982 school year.  A 26-year old version of me is on the left.  The tiny girl with red hair right next to me in the photo is little Amy.  Many other students in the photo have now caught up with me on Facebook.  Even with all of the complaints people have in using Facebook, I am forever grateful for the chance it provides me to keep in touch with hundreds of students from my years of teaching.  I love it!  

The next time you see these two pieces of fabric, they'd better be looking something akin to a pillow case.  To the experienced sewer, nothing more than a "warm up" lesson.  To someone like me, it will be so much more than that, but hey  you really gotta start somewhere.  I choose to start (and maybe end) here but at least I'm giving a try.