Hassells in the Highlands

Mike and I are taking dancing lessons. They are not the first dance classes we've taken. We took a handful of ballroom-type classes through Richland and Kennewick's Parks and Recreation.  And we went to a handful of one-night western dancing classes at the Eagle's Club in Pasco.  Well, we pretty well stumbled through them. Sometimes with humor. Sometimes in frustration.   I'm not sure we really learned anything that stuck. But I have wanted to dance for a loooong time. And by 'dance,' I mean REAL dancing. I have watched others dancing 'real' dances at parties, at weddings, and at actual dances, and have  longed to be one of them, gliding across the floor with their partner, being turned under the arm so smoothly, and gliding away again. I love to watch the old musicals. Besides the the corny way people suddenly break out in song (and the person they are singing to joins in because they somehow know all the words...), I love to watch the

Blogger/Blogspot. It has truly been a blessing to me. But, as a lot of technology seems to be, it has also been a time-suck and source of frustration. When we learned that we were going to Scotland for an extended time, I knew I wanted a way to communicate with my family and friends in a convenient way. I knew we would experience fun and interesting things and have a few adventures and I wanted to be able to tell about them and show pictures. Pictures are really important, don't you think?  They let you 'be there.' You can see for yourself what might be difficult to describe with words alone. And sometimes, a picture is worth a thousand words. Several people suggested I start a blog. But I will admit I was reluctant at first. I do not journal and I have never been good at keeping a diary. I barely took notes on the calendar when my young children did things for the first time, like first words, and first steps, etc. I didn't think I had the self-disciplin

The Retreat House This was the weekend of the Prosser Retreat and I just finished video calling with my quilting friends there.    How delightful that was!  How familiar everyone looked!  How natural the interactions with them!  How wonderful to hear their familiar voices and see their faces! But it was both wonderful and sad.  Sad, because,.....you know..... life is carrying on there without me.  I understand it, but  I have mixed feelings about it. I would love to be there - sewing and chatting and offering suggestions and telling everyone it's time to eat -  and yet, I am content to be here. Maybe it's because I know I will be returning to it. I know this is a season. I am only here for a short time -  and then I will get to/have to return to my 'real' life. Only, I know when I return that it will be different from when I left it. Things have changed. People have moved on.  A few friends have died. Babies have been born. a friend has gotten marr

When I was 11, my Dad was transferred to Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas, Nevada. Some time after that, my grandparents started coming out to visit us on a regular basis. They started by coming out for 2 weeks. Then, over time, it eased into being a month-long stay. Then they started staying for the winter. And the year I got married, they just stayed until June.    My grandparents were not big gamblers, but when they came to Las Vegas, they enjoyed playing the slot machines (back in the day when they were coin-operated and had a pull-handle) but they really only did that between BINGO games, because they  really enjoyed playing BINGO. It was a low-cost way to play a game over several hours with the chance to win something. I think it cost about $12 for a "Rainbow," which was 4 different colored cards.  Many of the casinos had a BINGO hall, but Pappy and Grandma had their favorites.  I think their most favorite place was The BINGO Palace, where they wou