comment moderation

Oh, bother. I didn't want to do this, and blogged for over four years without having to. But some spammers have been leaving weird comments on this blog, so I'm taking charge. Please continue to comment, but it will appear on a post only after I've ok'd it, usually the same day.

Sorry about the little inconvenience. There. Take that, spammers.

And to you faithful readers and non-spam commenters, hugs and kisses.

blog salad

I've started no fewer than four posts this week, none of which found their way to completion. I guess you could say it's been a tossed salad kind of week. Here's what's been on my mind:

1. New phone on the horizon? The keys on my cell phone are wiggly, so I might be shopping. Not desiring a smart phone. Just need to make calls, text, and view photos of the granddaughters. That's it!

2. Steve Jobs died of pancreatic cancer on Wednesday. He was born 52 days after me! If that doesn't wake me up to my lack of achievement in life, I don't know what will. Sometimes I struggle with the thought that my life could end tomorrow and I would kick myself for not writing a book or chasing a few dreams. I'd slap my forehead for not formulating a real plan for my life and neglecting really important things and people.

3. My husband's mother spent three days in the hospital this week. All day Friday, I was amazed by the nurses who do their jobs cheerfully in the face of sick people and demanding family members. I salute nurses! The hospital stay could probably have been avoided had my mother-in-love followed the simple practice of drinking water and eating fruits and vegetables. Case closed on that one.

5. A sizzling hot, then wet summer made biking kind of challenging. Now the weather's nice but we're busier. So we're trying to get some pedaling in before cold weather hits. It's a race!

Alright, I hope the coming week is smoother in the blogging department. If you're a loyal reader, I apologize. Sometimes life just happens when you're making other plans.

two years and 368 posts

Late one sleepless night two years ago, my daughter Katie helped me set up this blog. For me, the blog took on a little life of its own, pestering me, calling me to tend it. Darn thing.

Dinner has been late while I finished up a blog post.

The dog's walk has been skipped because of writing. Housecleaning has definitely suffered, but then it always has under my care.

And I've disappeared from my husband Bill while I work on the blog. "Silly," I tell him. "No," he says. "You write." Love that guy.

While I'm no Pioneer Woman with thousands of followers, I am exceedingly grateful for you, the faithful readers who've encouraged me along the way. You keep coming back to a blog that has no theme whatsoever. Your comments touch, humor, inform and surprise me. Your devotion means more than you know.

Anyway. As you might notice, I've changed the appearance - and name - of the blog. Call it the two-year celebration. But I'm not out partying. I'm still here ... writing.
Thanks for reading!

followers!

I know that many more read this blog than are 'official' followers. I invite you to sign up as a 'follower' so I have a better idea of who's reading. The link on the left will guide you through it.

Thanks so much!

300

In case you missed it, this is my 300th post since beginning this blog back in July 2008.

Having written 300 posts really rather surprises me. People have asked, "do you get tired of writing?" There are many things that grow tiresome. Cleaning bathrooms. Doing laundry. Making school lunches. Playing 'Candyland' or 'Chutes and Ladders.' Driving south on route 23. Answering the "why" questions of a 4-year-old.

But no. I don't tire of writing. I can't explain how or why I've written solidly, regularly for 18 months without tiring of it. Other than the fact that God wired me to write.

Then I got to thinking about 300 and its significance. Or insignificance.

Our family endured nearly 300 days in 2003 when the four kids were teenagers simultaneously. I'm not sure I'd have wanted any more days than that, but we survived.

300 hairs on a head. That's nothing!

300 pennies is $3.00. Not big to us, but significant to many people the world over.

300 dollars. Only a portion of the cost of one semester of college textbooks. Horrifying.

300 years. In 1970, the town in which we lived celebrated her 300th birthday, called a tercentenary. (I'll bet you knew 200 is a bicentennial, but 300?) Simsbury, Connecticut did it up big that year. As a 15-year-old Girl Scout, I joined my troop in recreating an "Indian encampment" beside the Farmington River as part of the celebration. This was very cool; I imagined myself as a real Indian squaw.

OK, so where is this post going? I really don't know, so I'll end it soon. But 300 posts in 18 months. Not bad, that is if someone has created an ideal average number of times a blogger should post. Which I certainly hope isn't the case.

There. Finished. Happy 300.

worthy reads

Two people I love have posted on their blogs today, and I invite you to take a look. My younger brother, Mark, honors his first wife, Elaine, who would have turned 52 today. It's a sweet and fitting tribute. http://markmat1957.blogspot.com

My daughter-in-love Jill makes a beautiful connection between "weirdness" and the Christian life. I relate closely with this post and love how Jill crafted it. http://markandjilly.blogspot.com

Finally, happy birthday to my beautiful granddaughter, who is one month old today. She and her dad have a new portrait ...

dozin'?

For fun, I just visited my very first post, on July 23, 2008. Nest emptying? More time for dozin'?

Funny, very little dozin' has happened since then. And isn't likely to happen in the future.

That's all I'm saying. For now.

are you writing?

This question is posed by my encourager friends who spur me on to keep writing.

The question today is, are YOU writing?

guest blogger contest

Want to try your hand at blogging? Here's your chance! Write a blog post on any topic. The rules:

1. Post must be your own, original work. (that means you didn't borrow it from Newsweek, Sports Illustrated, The Delaware Gazette or anywhere else.)

2. Keep it clean - no profanity or vulgarity. Pretend I am your mother. (As is actually the case with roughly half my readers.)

3. Keep it a reasonable length and strive for good grammar. Misuse of "lay" and "lie" or "leave" and "let" will result in automatic disqualification from the contest.

4. You need not submit something you wrote recently. If you wrote something in first grade and you like it, submit that. However, I highly doubt you'd win the contest. I wrote an essay in first grade entitled: "My Foxy Life" and I wouldn't dare submit it anywhere.

5. E-mail your submission to me at hallerbarb@yahoo.com by sometime Sunday, March 29.

6. Include a photo of yourself.

I won't keep the rights to your piece, but I will choose one winner to be published on this blog. That's your prize: submission here!

Please, someone get writing. The next couple of weeks are busy and I need some posts!

the past, the future

Here's something interesting I came across on another blog. She started out:

Do it.
Be cool like me.
Then post it to your blog and link your blog in the comments section.
'Cause it'll be fun.
And I don't have anything remarkably exciting to do today.

So I'm giving it a try and filling in my own past and future.

Where were you ...

5 years ago - Letting go. Kids were 20, 19, 16, 14. There was a period of 7 months in 2003 that all FOUR were teenagers. Life was a perpetual lesson in learning how to trust, communicate, laugh abundantly, love effectively and let go appropriately.

10 years ago - TEENAGERS! Ages 15, 14, 11 and 9. I was just figuring out how to parent teens and getting a little worried about what lay ahead.

15 years ago - Kids, kids, kids. My own, ages 10, 9, 6 and 4 plus neighbor kids running in and out and around our yard. Constant ballgames, meetings and carpools. If I wasn't in the van, I was in the kitchen or at the grocery store.

20 years ago - Mothering 3 little boys, ages 5, 4 and almost 1. About to lose my mind. A few months later, I was pregnant.

Where are you going?

5 years from now - ALL our kids will be through college! From 2001 to 2012 ... with five of those years having TWO kids in college at once. We'll be depleted...I mean elated.

10 years from now - David - 35. Dan - 34. Mark - 31. Katie - 29. Bill and I will be 10 years older and perhaps cuddling grandbabies. And still traveling.

15 years from now - Now I'm thinking several - maybe lots - of grandchildren. I plan to hold "Cousin Camp" where all grandchildren age 6 and up are invited for a week at the lake: no parents allowed! There will be: marshmallows and hot dogs, campfires, boating & swimming, reading together, rock-painting, biking, and NO TV! It's amazing to wonder about who my grandchildren will be and all their little personalities.

20 years from now - I hope I can still walk!

Life moves very, very fast. Grab it. Hold it. Cherish it. Thank God for it. "Ten years from now" will be here soon.

So...here we go

It's 2:00 a.m. and I can't sleep and I think it's about time to create a blog. Bear with me...I'm 53 and wasn't weaned on computers, you know.

OK...so what's with this blog name? Welp, (that's what David, my oldest & cleverest son, says instead of 'well'....I've no idea why) from the time we first got a computer and had to come up with an e-mail addy (David says that, too, instead of 'address') . . . I came up with "halfdozn." The computer guru said "halfdozen" was too many letters. So. It was halfdozn. Because we were six. Hubby, me and four rambunctious kids.

At first glance, DOZN might seem like DOZIN' instead of DOZEN. Now Hubby might say that's fitting because I love to doze and I've probably had less than my desired amount of dozin' through the years. Four kids, after all.

Now the nest is emptying and you might just find me HALF DOZING any time of day, especially in the afternoon, because I DO NOT HAVE TO MEET THE SCHOOL BUS, FIX THE SNACK, CHECK THE HOMEWORK, DRIVE TO SOCCER OR ORTHODONTIST OR MAKE SURE DINNER'S ON THE TABLE IN TIME FOR A BOY TO GET TO BOY SCOUTS! In fact, I might just eat peanuts and a coke for dinner and not even care.

I'll tell you, this dozin' will be mighty nice. Maybe.