We each have a Story to tell. Would imagine that 50% of everybody doesn't feel their Story is worth hearing so they never tell it. Your Story doesn't have to be fancy, complete with horrible childhoods and teen years that should never see the light of day again. The thing is there is value in every Story. Sometimes it make be hard to spot but we are all different and difference which makes us, us is one that can't be duplicated. Our lives look like a giant map of circles, all over lapping each other. There are not circles, duplicated on each other, stacking up like boxes on a pallet. Some may be similar but like every hair on our heads, no two are the same.

No one wants to sit through hours of Story. Just tell one, start there.

Pick a memory and just tell it. Practice if that would help. Write it, blog it, share it at coffee with someone. Maybe at book club, or in the parking lot waiting for the kids to get out of school. Tell your Story, don't get hung up on details, let it flow. It will get easier over time. The toughest part is learning how to share without, oversharing. That is a risk you just need to take and keep working on, refining it. The most important reasons for telling your Story isn't about you... Just tell it. Someone needs to hear it...

you just know...

Some things, we just stumble upon and they become a part of us. For me, it was photography, for Gage, it is football.

It is a natural as breathing. There is no work involved, no time to pencil it in. We are defined by it, we are known by it. This side of heaven, there are few times in life when this happens and when it does, we are forever, changed. No matter our age, it is still there. It never leaves us, disappoints us, or judges us. If we are feeling a bit down, we give it a pass and say, Next time.

Whatever it looks like to you, and you already know what it is and how it looks, let it steep. Never apologize for it is a part of who you are. Enjoy it, feel the Love...just know who you are...

the act of being...

Most of us aren't good at being, us. We powder, dab, rearrange and coverup the reality of who we are.

It is exhausting...To constantly be in the Spanx of life. To be pulled, prodded, only to find out that too much of a good thing, is still too much. We go and go and go and then wonder why we are so tuckered out. Family, work, friends, social media...it never stops and neither do we. It has become a way of life that is hard to stop. At my house, we remind ourselves daily, that we are now on vacation. If we need to be Somewhere at a certain time, we are but the rest of the time, we are purposing to run on vacation time. Nowhere to be and no need to hurry.

The Mall... there is a natural rhythm of the flow of traffic. On weekends, the pace is a bit more brisk and one tends to want to stay the course. Some decided again that. They do not run on Mall Time, they run on their time. What they need, when they need it. I couldn't help noticing my new friend on Saturday. Don't know how long he had been there or asleep but I grabbed my camera and caught him at what I would refer to as his finest hour. The tea lady in the background watched me with a big smile. As I put my camera back in my purse, I heard her say to a customer, Look at his wife, she has a great sense of humor. Got back in the Flow and off to the next adventure. Just the way it should be...

boys...

Two sleepovers this weekend. Different as night and day. There is just something about boys. They are wild and crazy, adorable and cute, loving and wild. Love every minute with them. They explain a lot about the male human, wish I had of known all this many years ago. It is all new and yet, they have a softness about them. Hard to explain, different from girls, yet about as sincere as Love comes.

Thanks for a great weekend, guys. I love you to infinity and beyond...

men and socks...

I didn't pack his suitcase for the weekend, didn't even look to see what he brought. However, I will confess, I would have encouraged and brow beat him into leaving his Old Man, Florida socks at home and taking his ankle socks, that he always wears, instead. I thought it was a given, short socks, short pants, Long socks, long pants.

When I took this shot, I noticed the socks. Usually, the kids comment but they must have been as distracted. Believe me, they don't miss an opportunity to point out Pop's fashion choices. Later in the day, when he changed his shirt in front of God and the kids, without missing a beat, Gage said, Ok, no more chocolate.

After we got home, I asked him what he was thinking with the socks. Didn't have much of an answer but you know what, this photo would not have had the same effect on me with short socks. We think we know what we want but Sometimes, Life knows better...

Hey Soul Sister...

Because it doesn't get any better than this.

In the mountains,
no place to be,

aware of this Moment, in time

because watching your girl sing, Hey Soul Sister,with everything she's got,

doesn't come along, very often,

but this very day, this very moment, I am well aware of what a lucky girl I am...

A River Runs Through It...

At first, it may not seem like a great weekend. Black skies heading to Idaho City, rain beginning to pour and I mean, pour. Eight of us, with a tent trailer and a van. I had tried to call the kids to see if we should turn around but cell service had already blacked out. The lights weren't working on the trailer so I knew when we pulled into the camp site, we were there for the night, anyhow.

Tough night, getting everyone fed and bedded down and we all fell asleep to rain falling on the roof of our temporary home. By morning, the sun was shining and it was a stunning place to be. More rain would come but we had learned to adapt and off we went to enjoy our time away.

Did we miss the Real World? I think so, batteries ran out and iPods went dark but fishing, smores and being together was a nice thing to do, instead. You can't help but be in awe of the view around you. More aware than ever of the wonderful gift of this life and how simply wonderful it can be.

Thanks Smiths and BanjoMan for a swell weekend. See you don't have to have electricity and running water to have fun but I admit, soooo glad to be home. Let's do it again, Sometime...

Must play to win...

What have we, the consuming public, done to have this disclaimer on many products? How dumb do they really think we are?

Ever buy a curling iron with the tag that shows an outline of a bathtub, wavy cartoony lines for water and a curling iron with a circle with a slash through it? This morning, it was the Idaho State Lottery's turn. Must buy a ticket to win? Has that been an issue down at the ISL Commission? Apparently it stuck with some of those folks who decided to protect themselves from further discussions on the Must Play To Win issue.

I am not a brain surgeon but I will bet you $100 bucks that the trend will continue. Not proud of it but they may know Something I don't...

911.

Nancy Pelosi said in Time magazine that her seventh grandchild asked her on Labor Day weekend, Yes, on the war in Syria or no, on the war in Syria?

Keaton had just turned two the summer before. He will not remember as well as Gage and Morgan who were yet to come.

I will never forget. Every Sept 11, I watch MSNBC and watch the Story unfold, yet once again. Knowing what I know, I wait for Matt Lauer and Katie Couric to understand what is happening.

I was 12 when Presidant Kennedy was assassinated. I remember very little. Too busy trying to survive the Everyday. Who was President was a low priority and later, when I realized that the family was deep-rooted Republicans, it made sense.

Anyone who was 10, should remember this day and teach it to those who can't. The hate and destruction we can have toward each other, can never be doubted or downplayed. To all those who gave their lives and those who did it willingly, I thank you and so do many more. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your service. May God bless you all...

Long time listerner, first time caller...

That may define an introvert, in a nutshell. Yet, those words would never leave my lips, yet I might live them out, on occasion.

Made a bold move last week. Heard a little whisper, and went with it. It was not a big thing, unless you are me. Some places I am bold, don't mess with my family. I have learned that God can defend him self, that is not my job. In making my bold move, I was also good about the outcome, whatever that looked liked. A dear friend use to say, all we have to do is the right thing whether it is accepted or rejected. Not our call. Our call is in doing our part.

A lots of lives get all mixed up because they are not doing their part, and doing everybody else's part. If you just had five people not doing their part, imagine the mess you would have. Multiple that by a classroom, a church, a town hall meeting. You get the idea.

We need to show up. We can't always be the listener. Sometimes, we have to step in up and be the caller. Make the bold move, regardless of the outcome. Obviously, I have listened to too much radio. Yet, you hear this line, over and over again. Long time listener, first time caller, got Something to say?

Deep Fried Snickers...

Any sane person would understand that this is wrong on so many levels. Yet, here we are. One could say, Just because they make it, doesn't mean we have to buy it. Really, Really?

This screams out to most of us on a level that is hard to explain. Read today that all addictions, start with habits. Insightful. The same can be said of the good choices we make in our lives but Sometimes, they seem like we have less of them and they are spread farther, apart.

The boys bought these at Arts In The Park. They offered to share, I quickly declined. Not because I was put off by the whole idea of a candy bar that has been dipped in the same oil pond as the french fries, nor did the idea of a gizzlion calories, stop me. I know that one bite and we would be buying more. A few minutes later, I would decide that Something Sugary was a good idea and make the choice to buy and consume.

What was the difference? What made me pass one up but turn around and make a different choice? If I could figure that out and bottle it, I would be a rich woman. We are each a mess of crazy, bringing our family histories with us, wherever we go. We are human and that means, hard to understand and impossible to figure out.

Still, I could have chose to partake of both. That common sense I carry around served me will for a bit. Will be mowing the lawn later, and mowing fast...

Who am I?

Who am I? I am Zalaine Anne Linder Hoffer.

Soon after I was born, the race for my name was on. Literally, my parents raced to fill out my birth certificate. Dad won or else you would be addressing me as Heidi.

I believe our name should reflect we really are. Whose blood flows through our veins. History would tell you that my maiden name is Daniels and my married name is Dille.

My grandfather and his younger sister were adopted out by their father when their mother died. Their father didn't feel he could raise all of the children so the two youngest had to go. My grandfather was adopted by the Daniels family. I do not know if the girl was adopted by the same family.

I am no more a Daniels than I am a Dille. I married a Dille. I took my husband's name. It doesn't make me one.

I have felt strongly about this for years. In this day of adoptions, remarriage and turning into a mobile nation, who we are is getting tougher and tougher to determine. I believe we should keep the names of our bio families for our lives. Your mother's biological name and father's true surmane. You keep it all our life. It is who you are. The blood that coarses through your veins. Your true heritage.

If I ever find myself a widow, I will change my name to Zalaine Anne Linder Hoffer. I always said as soon as I was 18 I would change my name to something that anyone could pronounce. Sandy was the my name of choice. I never did. Now, I am use to it. Would it be the same with my surmane? Maybe but I like to think I would follow through. Strong feeling about this, will see...