Word of the day: DELIGHT

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Definition of DELIGHT, from Mirriam-Webster.com
1: a high degree of gratification: joy; also: extreme satisfaction
2: something that gives great pleasure (Example: Her performance was a delight.)
3 archaic: the power of affording pleasure

Definition of DELIGHT, from Bubby
1: a slide ... any where, any time, any day of the week. Example:

Today's question:

When did you last experience delight, by any definition?

Dreams I'll never see

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I read a lot of magazines. Just the other day, I pulled seven -- SEVEN! -- from the mailbox. Okay, some of those were Jim's, but still. I told Jim the mailman surely loves coming to our house because we're keeping him in a job. (Keeping the publishers in a job, too, I suppose.)

Of all the tomes to which I subscribe, O the Oprah Magazine and MORE are the two that fascinate me most each month because they're filled with stories of women who have firmly grabbed hold of life with two manicured fists and shaped fulfilling careers of which they're passionate and well paid. Usually after an epiphany of some sort. Often after an epiphany had upon reading an article in that very same magazine.

I don't have epiphanies upon reading the articles. And I want one. Desperately. I want to come across words that take my breath away, make me reconsider all the trappings keeping me from reaching my fullest potential, lead me to pull out all the money from my 401K and go whole-hog after what I truly want to make of my life, what I truly am meant to be, what will truly make me shine and rock and roll. Roll in the dough, preferably, as all those featured seem to magically do upon acting on their epiphanies.

But, like I said, I've yet to have an epiphany. I get sparks of motivation, flashes of creativity, glimmers of what could be upon reading the articles. Then I just get frustrated because it never seems to move beyond that, move ME beyond that. Why can't I be one of those who see the light, the secret to self-actualization and pursuit of one's passion hidden deep within the pages of O and MORE?

Why can't I be like the stay-at-home mom who, mulling over a magazine article as she drove along the Pacific highway on an errand, became mesmerized by the kiteboarders in the water, pulled over to ask them about the new-to-her activity, had an epiphany -- WHAM! -- and threw caution to the wind, started her own company providing high-priced, world-wide travel packages to well-to-do folks with a penchant for action and adventure.

Or why can't I be like the woman who, laid off from her job, stared out at the Kansas prairie on which she lived and instead of lamenting the piles of tumbleweeds collecting in her front yard, had an epiphany -- WHAM! -- put those tumbleweeds up for sale on Craigslist ... and soon became the ultimate tumbleweed provider for Western-themed galas, movies, and more. She now makes a living -- an admirable living! -- off the cuss she wants cleared from her yard?

I have a lot of cuss in my yard I'd like cleared. Mostly pine needles, but there may be an untapped market for them. I have even more cuss in my mind that I'd like cleared ... preferably by an epiphany. Directly related to an article in one of the many magazines to which I subscribe.

Maybe I'm trying to force an epiphany. Maybe I'm hoping for too much. Maybe I'm searching too hard within magazine pages.

Maybe I should just stop reading the cuss magazines.

Photo: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What is your favorite magazine to read, in print or online?

Straight from Italy ... and Trinidad

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This week's Grilled Grandma, Mary, leads one of the most interesting lives of all the grandmas I've grilled. Mary is from the US, then she moved to Antigua several years ago. She now lives in the loveliest of places in Italy. And she visits her daughter, son-in-law and two gorgeous grandchildren in Trinidad, where she hikes near waterfalls and eats bananas straight from the tree. Oh, how glorious it sounds!

Mary leads a blessed life and humbly acknowledges her bountiful blessings. She's a lovely woman I'm honored to introduce to you in Grilled Grandma: Mary. After reading her grilling, head right over to Mary's blog (linked at the bottom of her grilling) to read all about the wonder-filled life she leads ... and loves ... and shares with the rest of us through fantastic photos and heartfelt posts. Enjoy!

Today's question:

Which would you most like to visit: Antigua, Italy, or Trinidad? Or is there another destination that tops your list?

Shattered illusions

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When I visited Bubby earlier this month, it took no time at all for my illusion of him to be shattered.

You see, Megan shares photos of Bubby all the time, and we Skype fairly regularly (except for the last few weeks when Megan's computer's been on the fritz). Because of the photos and the Skype sessions, I've been led to believe that Bubby's a big boy.

But he's not. And I learned that right away.

When I landed in the desert, Preston picked me up from the airport and we drove the nearly one hour to their house, where Bubby and Megan awaited my arrival. Preston pulled in the garage, we got out, the door to the house opened, and I heard gleeful calls from Bubby and Megan as I headed to the trunk to collect my things. I couldn't see Bubby, but I heard the pitter-patter of his bare feet coming around the back of the car to greet me.

Then he made it around the corner of the car ... and stopped me in my tracks. For standing before me wasn't the big boy I had expected to greet me, but an itsy-bitsy munchkin.

Instantly, my fear that Bubby had grown so much since I'd last held him that I'd no longer be able to hold him vanished. Instantly, the idea that the camera adds 10 pounds became a reality -- a reality multiplied to seem like even more considering those 10 pounds were added to a barely-over-30-pound frame.

Yes, Bubby may act like a big boy and look like a big boy in photos, but he's still so very much -- as his mom calls him -- a peanut.

A peanut that is just over 30 inches tall -- still quite short of a yardstick.

A peanut that can barely reach the door handles throughout the house.

A peanut whose head only slightly rises above the top of the bathtub when bathing.

A peanut that is just one little-boy-head taller than the average-sized golden retriever.

Even though photos -- including those I took myself so I know they're not Photoshopped -- make Bubby look long and large, I know now it's an illusion, that my grandson is not a big boy.

Truly, my grandson is a peanut.

But that's just fine with me because he's a peanut this grandma can easily lift to see into the display case when choosing from the 31 flavors at the ice cream parlor.

A peanut this grandma can easily carry up the long flight of stairs to his bedroom after he falls asleep in the car.

A peanut this grandma has no trouble holding up to the mirror so together we can laugh at his funky robot hat.

A peanut this grandma can easily lift from the bathtub, wrap in a towel, and carry to his bed for pajama time.

A peanut that easily fits in this grandma's lap for hugging and rocking and reading bedtime stories.

There's no way around it: Bubby is a peanut. And that's okay. Because this grandma is huge lover of peanuts.

Especially peanuts that go by the name of Bubby.

Today's question:

What is your favorite food featuring peanuts?