Tag: memory

Doubly Blessed

A tiny story about how my prayers being answered became my children being doubly blessed!

January 15, 2022

Doubly Blessed

Note: (wrote this December 5, 2021 when whomever decided my computer operating system is too old to connect to wordpress anymore!)

One day I was cleaning bathrooms at a church work day and met a wonderful woman.  She was cheerful and spoke about Jesus like a best friend.  She was encouraging.  I thought “I’d like to learn about life from her!”  I saw her a few times over the next year or so at that church.  My brother liked the youth pastor and he needed a chaperone – thus being, when the youth group was participating in clean-up days or work days or whatever, I was there with him.  We started attending that church. 

About fourteen months later on a warm July afternoon, I went to meet the parents of the young man I had started dating that Friday.  Although I knew God was telling me I had the green light to marry this one, my logical brain was fighting that suggestion.  The woman I wanted to learn from?  I was dating her middle son!

I have an amazing mother whom I love.  God gifted her to me when I was born.  I never thought I would love another woman in a similar way.

But God’s ways are awesome! 

I tell people I have two moms.  One I was born with and one I got when I married Louis.  I love how Joanne is so accepting, loving, supporting, and helpful.  She and my mother, Tina, are quite similar.   Someone mentioned today that the normal “mother-in-law” is someone you fight with and tolerate or even don’t like.  I’m so grateful for the blessing of my mother-in-law.

I pray that God gives me the same grace to my children’s spouses.

This is because the blessing of loving in-laws passes through generations.  Loving interaction and respect between the parents and newlyweds turns into future strong grandchild-grandparent ties.  When a mother-in-law or father-in-law is a friend and mentor, the grandchildren see their parents show respect and love to their parents; visibly strengthening the children’s understanding of “honoring fathers and mothers” and set the stage for generational connections that are hard to sever.  My children have many fond memories of their grandparents on both sides!  I’m so thankful for that.  

That I’m a friendly, welcoming person who looks at the girls’ future husbands and Lucas’ future wife not as competition for their attention but as blessings God has planted in my life as well as theirs.  I pray to be like Joanne.  She is such a wonderful model of mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, and friend.  I have known and loved her for twenty years – related to her for a little over nineteen. 

I smile; I never considered how sweet God’s answer to my heart’s desire to “learn about life” from the bubbly, serious, hardworking woman whose company I enjoyed one Saturday while cleaning bathrooms at our “new” church – I would really get to do life with her!  She would be my mom. 

Thank you Jesus for amazing blessings!

Thank you for reading,

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

Walk and Enjoy

February 3, 2021

Walk and Enjoy

Louis likes to do “spur of the moment” fun.

We had a lovely Saturday; work, the guys watched a game, we played outside, we had some really good food some of the girls helped Louis with, and we were winding down for the early evening when suddenly…

“Let’s go downtown!”

“Yippee!!”

Everyone grabs warm top layers for the wind. They have learned that Florida winter off the Bayfront can be cold. “Shoes? Socks?” I have to remind the gymnast crew that feet need to be covered as well. We load into the van and we text Becky (who was babysitting) and her charge’s mom to make sure they wanted to come and had permission.

We swing by and grab two more singers to add to the movie soundtrack sing along concert and windows down – well, down partway because we can’t freeze the baby! We continue to the only spot you can find parking on busy Saint Augustine nights (behind the Lightner Museum, you’re welcome) and walk down MLK to the Bayfront.

Well, actually, that is the cliff notes version. It sounds tame. Nope, not tame at all! Jillian was just 9 and commented on how we are all odd for now. 17, 15, 13, 11, 9, 7, 5, and 1. Thea will be 2 shortly but yes, for almost a month, all of our family and Anastasia are odd. One of the kids pipes up with, “but oddballs all the time!” Which makes all of them laugh and act silly. All of this and we haven’t reached the front of the Lightner!

We climb, jump, skip, or literally skip the steps up to the grass (Dad jumps up the wall instead of using the steps). “Cartwheels!” and there are five gymnasts showing us backward rolls, cartwheels, roundoffs, handstand rolls, and other such skills on the “softest grass around town” and two or three popped into a handstand contest. This turned into running in circles around a small tree, playing a quick round of tag, and pointing out horses and trolleys as they passed. And dogs. Christina noticed every dog of all types from a pair of tiny Maltese scurrying along like fluffed up marshmellows to the giant Newfoundland walking with his huge head taller than Jillian’s!

Now after most of their giddy energy has been spent, we are ready to walk our normal almost 2 mile route. They always giggle and ohh and ahh like this is the first time they’ve explored downtown. I love that! As we are standing at the intersection waiting for the walk signal, Anastasia announces, “Huge group coming through! Party of ten over here!” One of my teens at the rear is literally pointing and counting heads! We look like crazy tourists!

“Ooooo!” shriek six voices, “look at that cute doggie!” Please don’t hurt the doggie’s ears!

At the Bayfront, they all turn toward the bridge, “May we walk the bridge?” “The bridge, yeah!” “It’s so windy we better hold on tight!” (It’s not that windy, but let their imaginations run wild!) “Look! Lights on the boats!” And, yes, we walk the bridge! They pause, run, race, and walk; depending on whatever imaginary fun thing they are doing at the moment. Louis keeps up with the racers in the front and Mom slows to stay with the chatting teens in the back. Really, Mom is walking or jogging at Thea pace. Thea thinks she is scared of the big lions – never before has she been scared of them (vacuums, lawnmowers, air dryers, showers, yes, but not large carved critters until today). She is not scared of the grate over the water anymore (or maybe because it’s dark and the water looks black just like the grate?) which makes crossing the bridge easy.

Craziness walking back (all as a group this time, which is interesting with the motorized bicycles that are in the narrow walkway! “Single file! Don’t try to fly right now!” – yes, I yelled that ahead!) and watching boats from the “turret” (the spot where we can all fit!) while they sang jingles and cracked jokes.

Along the stones at the Bayfront, the moon was gorgeous.

Many people were just walking right from the sidewalk up to the sea wall without stopping to see the obstacles so it was another “straight line please!” and “not on the grass!” or “watch out!” as five duckies from 13 to 5 maneuvered through the groups of tourists like a long snake in a single row with the 5 year old leading to the fort.

Fort! Finally!

They run up the grassy hill to the midsection where they all have ingrained lifetime memories of rolling to the bottom. Same five duckies go rolling down the hill in three, two, one! Rolling over each other, around each other, past the baby roller to reach the bottom, laugh, and climb back up to start again.

Now it is walk down (they rolled) to the crosswalk that gets us in the alley by the Pirate and Treasure Museum (We’d love to go in, but it’s closed which means window shopping and vivid imaginations run wild!) to St George Street. They read t-shirts from windows, announce shop names, talk about where family members have worked, and sing along with songs from the live bands we pass or sing along with whatever they are humming in their own head.

Lots of “ooh, doggies!” and “wow, look, a horse!” exclamations later, we get back to our van and the parade turns into another dance and sing-along party where the whole backseat is heads bobbing in time and Thea’s whole body is wriggling like a worm (except for her torso, tightly strapped in the baby seat). By the time Becky and Anastasia get to their destination, two of the adventurers are asleep.

I love making happy memories! I love Louis’ spur-of-the-moment perfect outings and ideas! Thank you, Jesus, for my family and for fun! Thank you for the time I have with them!

Walk and enjoy!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Questions:

September 23, 2019

Questions

I love how children ask questions.  Sometimes their questions make you go search something.  Like “what is a rainbow?” or “why are leaves green?”

Sometimes their questions mirror your own; but those you won’t speak.

You know, questions that your doubting mind asks but your thinking heart understands.

“Why are you crying?” I ask.

My little girl is riding with me to go pick up two of her big sisters, “why did Aunt Mary die?  Why is Mandy’s mom gone?  Jay is a baby; he will never remember his mom.”

Her tears fall as she speaks.  I let her finish talking.  My heart aches.  I ask those questions in my head too. 

“I miss my baby sister too.” I start, I want to connect with her heart. “Our world is broken because of sin.”  She nods, she has heard this too. 

“I know,” she is still slowly crying, “but she loved Jesus since she was little like me.”  (Mary had told them once that she was five when she promised Jesus her heart. I was there.  She was telling everyone about Jesus and was just five years old.)  Jaquline didn’t know how complex her aunt’s life had become so fast.  Because of sinful controlling people in her life that kept her bogged down, in fear of her life or her family’s life, and assaulted her mentally as they tried to keep her quiet and separate her from anyone who truly loved her.  As a young teen, some guy misused her, showed her that from a certain spot he could see her father’s bedroom, and told her one shot through the window would kill the man she loved the most.  He was the first to rip her young heart to shreds with his awful controlling self – then he had the gall to continue to threaten her when she moved 300 miles away!  Others treated her like dirt; lying about those she loved and people who cared about her until she actually believed these lies and isolated herself from those who would have helped her.

I could hate these people.  Instead I pray for them. 

But she’s my baby sister.  There was a part of me that wanted to go “Good Citizen” on their carcasses.  But I know Jesus died for them just like He died for me and I am supposed to love my enemies.

Switch back to my car on the interstate with my nine year old sitting shotgun with silent tears crawling down her fair cheeks.  This all flashes really fast so the same song is still playing.

“Do you ever think about where Aunt Mary is now?” Jaquline says. Newsong’s “My Heart is Already There” was playing in the background.

“Yes.” All the time.  That comforts me. “She’s with Jesus.  Can you imagine?  Being in His presence and seeing his face?”

Jaquline giggles. “Maybe all her puppies will be there.”  (Mary loved animals and was always trying to get a dog, but always the guy she lived with didn’t want one.)

“Remember the pictures of her as a baby chasing Boodle?” I ask (cutest little Maltese my family had twenty years ago) Jaquline laughs.  “I bet she’s petting him instead of chasing him now.”

“I ask Jesus why Aunt Mary is gone.” Her voice is distant. “He doesn’t answer.”

I sighed, “do you know why Jesus made us?”

“To be with Him.” Bingo.

“Yes, He wanted a relationship with us.  He loves each of us.  He didn’t want Mary to die, but now she is with Him all the time.  Only God knows when each person’s time comes to die.  We all will die one day.”

“I always hope to die when I’m old like Boompa,” Jaquline said.  “I’m not so sad for Boompa, but I’m so sad for Aunt Mary.  I’m sad for Grandma.” Yes.  Same for me.  I miss my father immensely.  I miss my sister.  I can’t fathom the depth of grief for my mother. 

“Jesus will comfort Grandma.  We have to help love her too.”  I say.

“We can be Jesus’ arms and hug her!” Jaquline’s tears have dried a bit and she’s now thinking about serving others.  She loves helping; it usually brings her happiness.

“Yes.” I smiled at her as we parked.  “And sometimes Jesus uses her arms to hug you, too.”

Big smiles return. 

Yes.  I totally miss my sister.  I grieve for the harshness she ended up living through for the last few years of her life.  23.  Her life’s clock stopped so short, only 23 years.  I always dreamed of her silly dancing at our Christmas parties for ages, smiling her beaming-happy-smile as she watched nieces and her daughter walk shakily down their aisle to their forever-love, dancing with her sons at their weddings, encouraging my teenagers in their Christian walk toward womanhood, and living her new-found free life focused on her three little angels.  Their plans, maybe not together, but at least working together for the best – the children. So, yes, I asked that question.  “Why, God?  Why is my baby sister dead?”  It seemed so surreal for me.  No body.  No last look.  No nothing.  I keep expecting her to drive up, drop the littles off, and enjoy some of whatever food we have just cooked. 

I know this world is broken by sin.  I know it wasn’t ever in God’s plan for us to have death.  I know my grandmothers, father, and baby sister are in heaven in the presence of God.  I have hope I will see them again.  But yes, I did ask those questions.  Yes, my heart aches for my family who must live without her.  I pray for all of us daily.  I find it hardest to pray for those who have hurt her, but that is my challenge.  I must love them as Jesus did.

My mind drifts back:

“…He has called us too! He has called us too! We are all disciples!  Even me and you!” The little voice yells each stanza of the VBS song.  Jumping with excitement, “did I get them all right?” 

I had been singing along and am raking something for a vegetable bed.  “Yes, Mary, don’t bounce on my tilled dirt.” We laugh and she points at her shoeprints.

“Yippeeeeeee!” She hollers and spins.  “Where’s Easter!  I’m gonna sing it to Easter!”  And she runs off in a singing blur, little bright blue eyes sparkling with life, long wispy blonde hair flying about in the Georgia breeze, she’s going to find that silly yellow hen that actually loves to be captured by Mary and sits contentedly tucked in her arms.  I look up to see my vibrant baby sister swinging on the swingset with Easter in her lap, projecting her beautiful voice with some soul-singer power as she practices the song for tomorrow’s VBS service. (You know, where the kids show off to the adults what they’ve learned in the week) Mary would tell the world that she asked Jesus in her heart about two years later.  She had such a love for life and care for others.  No one is perfect.  We aren’t Jesus.  I love her for her heart.  I will always love my baby sister. No, loss never “gets easy” but I do have hope in Jesus that I will see her again.  And that keeps me out of falling into bitterness. I can’t allow my grief to turn into bitterness.  I can’t be Rose from Overcomer; I have to choose joy.

And just like a soundtrack to my life, as I slide back in the car with the two older girls in tow, For King and Country’s “I Choose Joy” is shouting from the speakers.

Thank you, Jesus.  You know my heart.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Songs and Movies… How can that make me cry?

Why does she cry? Even she doesn’t know, but the right song or movie certainly can start it.

February 6, 2019

Songs and Movies…

It has almost been two months since my Daddy passed.

I can’t find it to cry, normally.  If I think about crying, I remember how happy he is in heaven.  Then crying feels selfish – because I know he was in pain every day here.

But sometimes, I can’t explain it.  And it’s always a song or a movie.  And even that doesn’t always make sense.

I was coming home from work one early afternoon and on comes “Small Town Southern Man.”  No, that wasn’t my Daddy, but the core of the song “…He bowed his head to Jesus… always loved one woman, was proud of what he had… he said his greatest contribution was the ones he left behind…” Yes, that was my Daddy.

I was bawling when the next one happened to be “Love Without End, Amen” – which yes, didn’t need any alteration and went all the way to heaven.  I’m glad my car has cruise control and I’ve been driving 207 for over 20 years.

A song.  A movie. (okay, this one was crazy)   Never saw it with my Daddy, but he had given it to us.  Annapolis.  A story of a determined young person getting to his goal – my Daddy liked stories with real character.  At the end of the film, Louis comments, “I know why your Dad liked that one.” And that was it.  Not that anyone else saw, but I ended up tearing up over the simple thought that I can’t ever discuss this film with Daddy.  It had so many side stories and threads woven this way and that – prime film material for our long-drawn-out discussions.

Whenever something makes me want to cry, I remember the silliest of song lyrics/movie lines and it’s really odd that those four lines remind me of Daddy because he didn’t like that movie. (I’m not a fan or having that one on continual repeat, either.)  “He lives in you.”  And, yes, my mind sings it.

I’m thankful for memories.   I’m thankful for times when I hear my Daddy in my siblings and children – just things he often said or quirky humorous lines.  I almost cried when I first saw my little brother in his new glasses with the hat and stubbly beard – because if the beard were a bit longer, that is how I remember my Daddy (from when I was a toddler) and my little brother is a spitting image (face) of my Daddy.

I feel sad that Daddy won’t see Teddy or Thea (our Baby, named after his/her great-grandfather Pearson) but I know I’ll keep “Living the Legacy” (another song… yes) and just like the girls don’t “remember” their Great-Grandmother Jeanette yet they know her love and life through us, my children will know their Grandfather Pearson’s legacy because it’s in us – and my extension, also in them.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Train Tracks

Memories with train tracks: little brothers, giggling elves, children 🙂

December 11, 2018

Train Tracks

One Christmas, about 10 years ago, Christina, Rebeccah, and baby Kimberly received a train track set with two little trains.  It was a tight year; Mommy had found it at a resale shop for $7 with its own storage tub!  This was the “big present” that year.  Mommy and Daddy almost woke the little sleepers up giggling and playing with it as we set it up around the Christmas tree.  Daddy put the crayons (Mommy saved those from penny sales at the start of school time) and coloring books in sets around it.  Three tins with special cookies and treats we’d made were wrapped up and set around the track too.  Other presents gathered around the tree, hiding in the circle of track.

That sturdy mix of train track and car track has been heavily played with for many years.  It was Lucas and Isaac’s favorite thing to do – “play train tracks” from as soon as they could run every car that would possibly fit down the track.

The tracks fit together like puzzles.  Jaquline likes to build the track.  Lucas likes both building and “vrooming” trains and cars on it.

They built this one together and took pictures of it!

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Lucas has become a little puzzle-fitter when it comes to making the tracks fit lately.  The latest update for him has been adding mega-blocks and duplos under the tracks to raise them up over the “water” floor.  Once Jaquline showed him this possibility, he’s been trying it by himself!

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This little run below was all Lucas.

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We heard the Christmas song that goes “…little toy trains and little toy tracks…” and Lucas shouted, “Mommy!  A song about my train tracks!”

We donate at least one bag of toys every year as Christmas gets closer, (this year Lucas chose three of his “best cars” to give away to another little boy, and Rebeccah “found” a Lego set in their Legos which she printed the instructions for and gave away) but these tracks stay.

I remember making train tracks with my brothers, and am glad to make “train track” memories with my little ones too.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

My Hero, My Hope

My way of processing emotion – to write. I love you Daddy. Merry Christmas at Home.

December 10, 2018

My Hero, My Hope

Be not downcast, my soul…

My Daddy’s favorite time of year is Christmas.  He loves the songs, the movies (queue “White Christmas,” “Holiday Inn,” “Miracle on 34th Street,” “Bells of St Mary’s,” my favorite, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” the 1985 Disney Channel Christmas, “Mickey’s Christmas Carol,” etc. on repeat), the giving (he loves to make people yelp with happiness!), the story, and the general mood.

My Daddy has had declining health for quite a few years.  Some days were better than others.  He always tried to pretend like nothing was wrong.

My Daddy went to heaven today.

He always said he prayed that when God wanted him, He would let him just “go to sleep” in his own bed and not wake up.  We just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.  Not near Christmas.  Truthfully, not anytime.

No one expects to lose someone they love.  Never.  No matter how sick they are or how many times they’ve been close or how many doctors have said “he can go at any time.”

No one ever expects to not be able to hear their voice again… No more long discussions about book ideas, parenting, the vastness of God’s amazing universe, the connections from one smile to a healed heart to God’s blessing.

We are human.  We never expect separation from those we love.

God didn’t intend that either.  In the beginning, there was no death.  No separation.  We were to live forever.  In today’s fallen world, we do have death – “separation.”

Those with God’s light within them know this is only a temporary separation, and that gives us tremendous hope.  We know, know, know that we will be reunited once again in heaven.  My hero and my hope as a child was in my Daddy; as an adult, I learned that God is both of our heroes and both our hopes.

And that led my mind to an image that made me cry with joy.

My Daddy lost his mother when he was 12 and his father when he was nearly twenty.  It had been nearly 50 years since he’d seen his dad and almost 60 since he’d seen his mom.

I imagined my Daddy running (yes, in his new body!) to be gathered in a hug by his mother and father.  They’d be joined by his brother, two older sisters, and family gone before.  My Daddy gets to go home where he is dancing, running, jumping, enjoying the beautiful garden he’s always imagined was in heaven (he used to say he would love for God to let him tend a garden).

I know we will miss him.

The child growing within me will not see Granddaddy Pearson on this Earth.

God did grant his request.  God allowed my Daddy to die at home, in his bed.  Daddy went into what Mom thought was a seizure.  Mom caught him, called to God to help her, then she says Daddy took a huge breath, looked at her, and told her, “I love you.  We’ve had a great life together… …I know I’m fading.  I want to go home.” They got to say goodbye.

Those we love are never truly gone.  They live on in our memories, thoughts, and hearts forever.

Thank you, Jesus, for giving me an amazing wonderful father.  Thank you for the memories I hold dear.  Thank you for allowing him to die at home in peaceful surroundings.

Hold those of us pained by this Earthly separation as we grasp the hope that is salvation.  We know we will be reunited with Gaylord Pearson again in heaven.  My goodness, what a l-o-o-o-o-n-g conversation Daddy and I will have when we meet again!

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Daddy & Mom – 1982

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Pearson family reunion – 2002 (Gaylord’s family – aka Daddy, Mom, & all 7 of us kids)

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My Daddy with 3 of his sisters L-to-R: Mary, Dolores, Carol – Reunion 2002

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Mom is about to get Daddy to dance with her!

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At Becca’s Wedding – 2012, Pearson family

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Daddy and Becca (her wedding!)

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Mom & Daddy at our family’s “Snow House” getaway in January 2014

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At Christmas 2016 : Daddy, Mom, & the older 5 siblings

Thanks for reading!

Hold those you love tenderly and treasure the memories of those who’ve had to go home before you…

~Nancy Tart

 

Amazing Live Music: Evan D Music

(photo from Evan D Music’s Facebook page)

May 29, 2018

Amazing Live Music: Evan D Music

Our weeks are pretty full of stuff.  Between our crossing driver shifts, taxiing children to and from college classes and groups, and just general life – it is awesome to have a mostly-weekly couple getaway afternoon on Mondays.  (THANK YOU! Shout to my amazing sister, Becca, who is brave and possibly just as crazy as me to sometimes text, “Pick them up by 8am tomorrow.”)

That is what we had this week.

The adventure of just Louis and me began with dropping off 7 children at 4pm (Anastasia had “sleptover” Sunday and Christina’s Monday class was canceled because the college was closed) to 6:30am the next day.  Only one cab ride to take someone home before the night was ours.

We had worked in the morning (all 3 cab calls) and ferried Christina to Marine Street for her Civil Air Patrol volunteer time, then spent almost 4 hours playing yard and board games with the girls (I even got to conquer an Age of Empires map with Rebeccah!) so when our time started it was like, “okay, what now?”

I wanted to walk on the beach and surf… wrong tide, and I don’t do baiting-shark surfing (aka night surfing).

Louis said, “I remember hearing some really good music downtown two weeks ago at the Tavern.” (He means the new Taberna del Caballo.)  Oh my! You should go there on Mondays from 4pm to 8pm – trust me, your ears are in for a very special treat!

So down we went.

And there, I was transported backwards to the very skillful, amazing raw guitar sounds that I heard my minstrel-of-the-dawn Daddy playing when I was a child and the awesome worship jams with Louis and his team and I first met.  Clean music, inspiring riffs (…you know, the things where a string musician picks the strings with his fingers so fast the fingers blur all together and you sit in awe with your mouth open…) and timeless songs.

We were listening to the sounds of Evan D Music.  (This guy is about to release a record too… yep, I’m not that old, but projects are records of time and passion, even if they are downloaded on a smart device in snippets.)  He plays around town almost every night but at the Taberna del Caballo Mondays from 4pm to 8pm.

One lady at another table had the best stadium whistle I’d ever heard (right through her fingers, no device!)  I’m sure people at the Oasis on the beach heard it.  You should have seen the two adorable kids dancing along with most of the patrons when one particularly moving song was performed.  (Louis doesn’t dance, so I’m not going to dance without him… but had the girls been there, we would have been dancing around too.)

I love live passionate music.  You can tell when an artist puts their heart and soul into their work – and Evan surely does.  I grew up listening to my Daddy play “story” songs from Phil Collins to Gordon Lightfoot to Jackson Browne, Moody Blues, Beach Boys, and all in between.  (We sat down to hear Evan playing “Kokomo” which was way cooler live with a riff-master on guitar – and he can sing the higher harmonies – I hadn’t heard that since my little brothers’ voices changed!)  My Daddy’s eyes would light up like he had stars in them when he strummed the tunes.  For years, I thought Lightfoot’s “Minstrel of the Dawn” was the story of my Daddy.  I loved just listening to the guys play when Louis and I first met; they’d be crammed in Grandpa’s attic room and wailing away and I’d hide on the stairs or they’d be practicing in the empty auditorium and I would slide off to the dark side entryway and dance.  I still love it when Louis (who claims he’s really rusty) plays guitar or Christina or Becca play piano.

Real music is the love of my heart.  It lifts my soul, engages my mind, heart, memories, and emotions, and spins a relaxing web of tranquility through the air.  This is what I felt listening to the talented Evan D Music; and this wonderful little place on St. George Street will be a regular haunt for us from 4pm to 8pm as long as we have Mondays off and Evan is playing there!

Check Evan D Music out on Facebook and YouTube and come be in his audience before he makes it to the Amphitheatre!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

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