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Has a story ever outraged you and then suddenly you find life has moved along; then there it is -- a reminder about that story that prompts you to remember it years later? Whatever happened? Did it just disappear? A story that struck a chord for me of complete outrage was the story of the Tennessee woman who sent her adopted son back to Russia in 2010. WHAT???? So, other than being ordered to pay child support to Russia, where is this Torry Hansen today? Better yet, where is this little boy? As a mother of a beautiful little girl that I was blessed and I stress "BLESSED" to adopt, I cannot even fathom this act of callousness. As a refresher to those who know of the story and for those who do not, a small boy was adopted from a Russian orphanage and after only six months, once his Tennessee family could no longer sacrifice their lives or resources for this boy, they put him on a plane back to Moscow; alone for an annulment of this adoption. He didn't even speak Russian nor did he know anyone! WHY???? The family claimed they feared for their safety after severalviolent episodes from this 7-year-old child, including fear for their lives. The adoptive family claimed mental instability of the child and that they were misled. Why might I bring this up? I guess because as we are going into the fall and winter seasons and the holidays are approaching soon, it makes me think about all the little children and young adults who have no families to call their own. And the holidays hit me hard with this feeling of compassion. Can you imagine not feeling loved or knowing that you could be completely dismissed if you didn't walk a fine line in every aspect of your life? I understand the fear. I understand the concern and I empathize with that, but you don't toss away a human life. This was inexcusable. Adoption. Unconditional love. Unconditional means not limited. It is complete and absolute. Adoption of a child is not mulling over the purchase of the latest model vehicle on the market or the fad to try to be like the Hollywood stars, these are real lives of innocent children that came into this world asking for nothing, just wanting to be lovedand accepted. No. It is not a storybook life. I would venture to say that if it is for you, then you are one of the few and I guess lucky ones. Let's face it, our own biological children can have physical or mental disabilities that leave strain on marriages, stress in the home and financial deficit that you wish would have been avoided, but where would you send them if you felt you exhausted of all your resources? You wouldn't send them anywhere. Somehow, you'd find another resource and although you may never find the answer, you'd never quit. Odds are if a child is adopted even in infancy, you are probably going to have to face concerns you never imagined even if you were as prepared as you thought you could be. How can we help? What do you do? How and why does it get to be different because someone is adopted? It shouldn't be that way. Part of adoption is fighting for a child and giving them your infinite love no matter what it is. Don't give up. Stand by your word, find resources, respite services, or whatever it takes,but please never do something as ghastly as this Tennessee family. Perhaps there is a reader out there that is considering helping a child in our foster care system or an independent or international adoption, please prepare. Please give of your whole self. It will be the most selfless act you can do in this world if you commit and don't look back with regret. As we go into the fall and winter, maybe you would consider helping a child waiting a forever family or a family already helping a child that could use some strength and reinforcement. What's that saying? "It takes a village to raise a child." For more information, please contact one of my favorite local services, the National Youth Advocate Program right here in Wheeling, located on National Road, whether you want information on helping a child, becoming a respite worker or making a donation. Children are placed in their care daily. Clothing, toys, anything you can imagine for children of all ages is always needed. Protect our children and make a difference right here in our own community today.

Last month, my family and I attended my 20th reunion at the United States Military Academy at West Point. In 1994, I graduated from West Point and began my service in the United States Army. Time sure does fly. It seems like just yesterday that my classmates and I were Plebes (freshmen) who had no idea what we had gotten ourselves into, up well before dawn to deliver newspapers to the upperclassmen, shine our shoes, prepare for class, and make our rooms spotless for morning inspection. It also seems like just yesterday that more than a few of my classmates and I headed off as Second Lieutenants to keep the peace in Bosnia. Since then, many of those classmates have gone on to do much braver and important things than I could ever take credit for. It was great to reconnect with my classmates. To see them now not as bewildered Cadets, but as fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, and for some, Lieutenant Colonels and Colonels. I remember how proud we were to pin on those Second Lieutenant gold bars, now some of those same friends have the silver eagles of the "Full Bird" Colonel. Amazing. More importantly, it was great to see West Point through the eyes of my own kids and to interact with the current members of the Corps of Cadets. These young men and women come from every corner of the country, every race, and every income level. They have voluntarily given up the "college experience" for four years of discipline and hard work before many of them will go directly into harm's way for our country. The fact that I used to be one of them did not stop me from admiring these young people and how uniformly courteous, kind and friendly they were to me and my family. How ready and responsible they seemed at such a young age. The future of our military is in good hands. A story from my mom illustrates what I mean. My mom and dad came down to help out with my niece and younger kids while my wife, my two older boys, and I watched the Army-Ball State football game at Michie Stadium on the Saturday of my reunion. Like any other college football game, the scene around the stadium before the game is crowded and chaotic. My mom was afraid that one of the little kids would get away from her and get lost in the crowd until she had a very comforting idea. She pointed the Cadets out to the kids and explained to them that you could tell who they were because of their uniforms. She told them that if they got lost, they could ask any one of those young men and women for help and they would be safe. In how many places could a grandmother trust her grandkids with a stranger and know things would be OK? I am proud of my school and offer my prayers for the safety and success of the next members of the Long Gray Line. Beat Navy.

After weeks of close contests and national debate, the fraught competition to decide America's ugliest accent has finally come to a dramatic close. And the winner is that moonlit, magical city-the Paris of Allegheny County, the Venice of the Ohio Valley-Pittsburgh, City of Jagoffs. Dahntahn Picksburgh home of the Pirates, Pens and Stillers, is again a city of champions. We praudly wear the title of America's ugliest accent. Those naut familiar with "the Burgh" may question how one can be praud to be associated with such a dubious honor n'at. Easy...ya have to know Pittsburgh and the people that makeuup this wonderful city to appreciate its uniqueness. When a "Yinzer" (typically identified with a person born and raised in Pittsburgh) breaks bread, or in Pittsburgh's case, shares a perogie and kraut n' stuff, with another Yinzer, what manifests immediately is a sense of comfort. Chances are you are dealing with person who is from hard working, resilient, humble, honest and compassionate family who is happy to share your cumpny (company). Ha ha ha... For many of us born and raised in the Burgh, anytime we hear the words, "Jaunt Eggle", "Tahn Taulk" (bread), gumband, jumbo, woorsh (wash), chipped ham, etc. we cannot help but to have a smile on our face recalling family gatherings or nights aught with friends. Funny, but I did not know that phrases like "go red up your room," "Jaeat yet" or "stay aught of tha jaggers" were unique to Pittsburgh until early adulthood; I thought that others had the accent. Now that I know otherwise, I look forward to those aupertoonities to bond with my fellow Pittsburghers, and represent that sense of Pittsburgh pride with others not so familiar with the city. Pride that appears to be quite contagious and thankfully so - I am truly blessed to live in one of the world's most livable cities. See yinz guyz later!

I first met Rose Contraguerro nearly forty years ago when her daughter Mary Ann Ennis became a second Mother to my children. From the moment I met her, Rose became MeeMaw to me...the name she was called by her grandchildren. Rose was a Mother to eleven children. Her husband died young. Saying she didn't have it easy would be an understatement. Even back when I first met her she had a good start on setting a world record for having the most grandchildren. Little did I know that some day one of her grandchildren would become my daughter-in-law. I was drawn to her. She made me feel like I belonged, that I was a part of her family from the minute I met her. Her needs were simple. She wanted to be surrounded by her family; she wanted to love and to be loved. For many years, her home was ground zero for holiday events. She cooked and decorated and hoped every last one of her family showed up to share the holiday. After she became "chair-bound," she still wanted everyone to show up, even if she wasn't the one doing the cooking. She never seemed to be short on patience, there was always a smile on her face and she showed a real interest in each person who crossed her path. She taught several generations of Contraguerro girls how to be a lady and several generations of Contraguerro boys how to treat a lady. Her legacy stretches from one end of Wheeling to the other and beyond our state's boundaries. As Rose aged into her nineties, she became less and less able to move around. I watched her nine surviving children take shifts to make sure she was never alone. When she was hospitalized for the last eleven months, I knew that several of her children were there each day. I knew that for some it meant driving to Washington, Pa. everyday after a long and exhausting day at work. I knew that many patients linger in a nursing home for years without a single visit from a child. What had Rose done to merit this kind of love and devotion? She had little to give of material goods. There was no big inheritance waiting. What Rose had done was to deposit love, great sums of it, in the bank that was each of her children. When she needed it, it was right there waiting where she had deposited it... in the banks that were her children. At a time when she couldn't speak, couldn't hug, couldn't give anything at all, the love she had given to each of them was given back to her. Isn't that what being a Mother is all about... giving until it hurts, giving until there's nothing left to give? And when a Mother does it right, her children learn that being a son or a daughter means giving until it hurts, giving until there's nothing left to give. Rose did it right. She did it best. Having known her was a joy and an honor. Having known her has made all of us better people. She will be remembered. She will be missed. She was loved.

As an avid sports fan, this is one of my favorite times of the year. The leaves are changing color, the NBA season is just starting, the college football playoff race is heating up and every week is important in the NFL. After graduating from law school and moving to Pittsburgh, I have been following the Steelers closely and it has been amazing to watch the public perception of the team change over the past several weeks. Specifically, I enjoy listening to sports radio shows on my way to work, and it is always entertaining to see how quickly the hosts change their "expert" opinion from week to week. Several weeks ago, after a 31-10 loss to the Cleveland Browns, the local sports radio hosts could not stop talking about how horrible Pittsburgh's offense was and how they thought the offensive coordinator needed to be fired. Even though the Steelers were 3-3, countless listeners called in and were just as worried about the team's ability to compete against the NFL's elite in the upcoming weeks. Fast forward three weeks, the Steelers have won three straight games including dominating performances against the Colts and Ravens. Not only have the Steelers been winning, but the offense that everyone was worried about has scored at least 30 points for three straight weeks. Moreover, the Steelers' quarterback, Ben Roethlisberger, has thrown for 12 touchdowns in the past two games, which is a new NFL record. Perhaps the most remarkable statement, in my opinion, came this morning on the same radio show that was calling for the offensive coordinator to be fired a mere three weeks ago. The host of the morning talk show now thinks the Steelers should worry that other teams may offer the offensive coordinator a head coaching position for all of the success he has had this year. A mere three weeks have completely changed the city's outlook on this man's ability to coach. While changes in sports are minor compared to the changes people endure in their everyday lives, I have always believed that sports are an excellent tool to teach children and adults life lessons in a relatively cost free environment. One of my coaches in college always told me that life and basketball are like a rollercoaster ride, with many highs and lows, but successful people and players find a way to enjoy the highs and ride out the lows, realizing, like the Steelers, things can change quickly. Many times, changes in people's lives can be difficult and cause unhappiness and stress. I can think of many examples in my own life where change was not expected and took me down a completely different path than originally anticipated. However, these changes, although sometimes difficult, can lead to the greatest periods of growth in people's lives and often lead to a better result than originally planned. Like the Steelers over the past several weeks, change can occur quickly and life's ups and downs can come and go with little warning. Many times, when people are struggling through times of great change, embracing and overcoming the changes with a positive outlook can lead to some of life's greatest joys. Hopefully the Steelers can stay consistent this upcoming week and their opponent, the New York Jets, do not stumble upon this blog post and find a way to change their recent struggles.

Yesterday, as I was driving home from work, the radio was bombarded with advertising about where to get Halloween costumes, where the best Halloween parties would be and all of the activities associated with the holiday. As I was listening to all of the advertisements, I could not help but wonder, "what exactly does Halloween celebrate?" Moreover, when I thought of other holidays, like Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, etc., it was easy for me to quickly point to the purpose of the holiday. However, despite celebrating it in one form or another for my entire life, I could not think of one reason as to why people dress up in scary costumes, children go from door-to-door asking for candy, or why anyone would ever say "trick or treat." My purpose for this blog is to answer all of these questions for myself and help you look smarter when you are handing out candy or are at a Halloween party. There are two reasons why Americans celebrate Halloween: the first is the old Celtic holiday of Samhain and the second is the Christian holiday of All Hallows' Day. Many believe the origins of Halloween can be traced back to the festival of Samhain, which means "summer's end" in Old Irish. Samhain was held yearly around October 31, and the festival marked the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter. During this time, the ancient Irish and Scottish believed spirits and the souls of the dead could more easily enter our world and could cause havoc such as damaging crops and sickness. As a result, people would leave gifts or offerings to the spirits in order to welcome them. In 19th century Ireland, candlelight prayers would be said before special bonfires and eating and drinking games began. The bonfire would attract insects, which would attract bats, and many believe this is one of the reasons that bats are closely associated with Halloween. Dating back to as early as the 16th century, in modern Ireland, Scotland and Wales, the festival included "mumming and guising." Mummers were short seasonal folk plays that would be performed by actors either going house-to-house or in a public area. Guising was a tradition where children would go door-to-door in disguise and perform a song or recite a verse in exchange for gifts, such as food, coins or treats, for their Halloween party. Whether it was actually believed or not, the tradition was that giving to the children would bring good luck and not doing so would bring difficulties. The traditional lights used by the guisers were turnips hollowed out to act as lanterns. Similar to our modern day pumpkins, a turnip would have a picture of a spirit or goblin carved into it. However, Halloween is also before the Christian holy days of All Hallows' Day, which occurs on November 1st, and All Souls' Day, which occurs on November 2nd. The day before All Hallows' Day was referred to as All Hallows' Eve and major feasts and celebrations would occur throughout these three days to celebrate and honor the saints and pray for the living and recently deceased. "Souling" was a tradition where cakes would be baked and shared with groups of poor children who would often go door-to-door collecting cakes in exchange for praying for the givers' relatives and friends. The tradition of dressing up was created to disguise the wearer of the costume and confuse the souls of the departed who would wander the earth possibly looking for their last chance at revenge before moving on to the next world. Both the Christian and Celtic traditions involved young children, who were usually poor, going door-to-door and asking for some type of gift. It is believed that the phrase "trick or treat" was used in both of these traditions by younger children who would threaten mischief or a "trick" if they did not receive the "treat" they came to the house for. In America, the holiday was originally celebrated as All Hallow's Eve by churches. However, due to the large influx of Irish and Scottish immigrants during the 19th century, many believe the traditions of both of the holidays have been blended together into the current state of American Halloween. Whether you are going door-to-door for candy, handing it out on your porch, or are having a party, I hope you learned something about the holiday and have a safe and happy Halloween!

For most of my adult life, I have been involved in high school athletics in one way or another. I have always looked at high school sports as an extension of the classroom. At this level, sports should not be just about wins and losses; it should be about teaching young men and women important lessons about life: the value of hard work, team work, and dedication to a goal. Over the years, it seems as if more and more folks have lost sight of the educational role of high school athletics, focusing instead on winning at all costs. Every year we see more and more examples of coaches actually fighting with one another, parents screaming like crazed lunatics from the stands, and game officials being attacked. And yet just when I begin to feel as if high school sports have permanently changed for the worse, a story emerges that shows some coaches and some schools still get it. Last week, our nation was horrified by the news of yet another school shooting. A 17-year-old student at Marysville Pilchuck High School in Washington opened fire in the school cafeteria. Three students were killed, and several others seriously wounded. Had a heroic young teacher not intervened as the shooter was trying to reload, the loss of life would certainly have been far greater. The tragedy ripped at the hearts of everyone in the Marysville community. That same week, the Pilchuck football team was scheduled to play the Oak Harbor High Wildcats. The game would decide the league championship, no small matter in the modern world of high school sports. I'm sure no one was surprised when it was announced that the game would not be played as scheduled. After all, the Pilchuck community was dealing with a tragedy of the worst magnitude, and it's only right that they be given time to grieve the terrible loss inflicted upon them. But the coaches, players and administration at Oak Harbor High saw the circumstances as more than a game to be rescheduled. They saw an opportunity to teach their students, their athletes, and even some of their parents an important lesson about priorities in life. Oak Harbor sent word that they did not want to reschedule the game. Instead, they opted to forfeit, voluntarily accepting second place and handing the league championship to Pilchuck. On top of that, when Pilchuck held a memorial vigil later in the week, every member of the Oak Harbor football team showed up, in uniform, to show their support. I really wish I could get on an airplane, fly out to Washington, and shake the hand of each and every player and coach on the Oak Harbor football team. Through their one act of kindness and compassion, they have shown our entire nation the true meaning of sportsmanship. League championships are important, but they pale in comparison to the importance of teaching our young people to do the right thing. We have seen similar examples set by some of our local high school teams. When Hundred High School was forced to cancel its football season, Cameron High School and Head Coach Scott Holt invited the senior players from the Hundred team to participate in the Senior Night festivities at Cameron. The Hundred players may have lost their season, but they were still able to walk across the football field and be honored by parents, friends, and teammates for their commitment to Hundred High. Similarly, when three players from Buckeye Local were seriously injured while on their way to a game at John Marshall, a sign went up at JM in support of the Buckeye Local family. In addition, in a further demonstration of sportsmanship and respect, Coach Rick Goodrich announced that the JM team would wear the numbers of the injured Buckeye Local players on their helmets throughout the remainder of the 2014 season. I'm sure there are going to be plenty of times in the coming basketball season when I will be disappointed by the actions of players, fans and coaches. It happens every year. Shortly thereafter, someone is going to approach me and ask how, as a basketball official, I'm able to put up with the things we have to deal with, year in and year out. Whenever that happens, I'm going to think about the Oak Harbor football team. I'll think about the sportsmanship shown by the coaches and players at Cameron and John Marshall. I'll think about tiny schools like Bishop Donahue, fighting back from the brink of extinction and re-establishing themselves as a team to be reckoned with throughout the state in all three major sports. And I'll tell whoever is listening that I'm proud to be a small part of high school athletics in the Ohio Valley, because here we still have folks who understand that while teams should always strive to win, the ultimate goal is to teach young people about the things that really matter in life.

WHAT TO DO? WHAT TO DO? NURSING HOME CARE A DECISION WE HOPE WE NEVER HAVE TO MAKE In my family, we used to joke around saying, "Mom's going to go into a nursing home," just teasing her and she would laugh. We don't joke anymore, not now, knowing what I know. As a matter of practical discussions, my family has had these conversations where I know that for myself, and many of my family members, none of us would ever want to be a burden to our family. For most people, I would think they would want nothing more than to keep their loved one at home and comfortable as best they can. Sometimes, there comes a point where this is just no longer an option. You've exhausted your resources and seek outside help. The family has taken shifts around the clock in an effort to keep that loved one safe. They are worn down because of some of the endless nights. Some elderly people get dementia and cannot even process that it's their very own son or daughter there helping them and they can become combative and try to leave. Time has no meaning under these circumstances. It can be midday or midnight. Some elderly become incontinent and feeble needing more than medications at their specified times and help with bathing or everyday functioning from using a urinal to brushing their hair, but most important is their safety. The family comes together and makes a decision that is one of the hardest decisions to do especially when your loved one is scared, but again, it's a safety issue and has to be done. This is an ordeal that families live with that decision before during and after the admittance process that they wish they didn't have to make. There is nothing easy about it. But, they are told by the nursing home, we will take good care of him/her. Don't worry, we understand. Really? Then keep them safe! Unfortunately, I have worked on cases where people placed in these nursing homes have fallen and ultimately died. Choked and died. Disappeared and died. Bed sores with such horrific infection - died. Placing a family member into the hands of a nursing home is a very tough decision to make. That decision should be honored with the promises that were made to your family when you entrusted the care of your loved one to a nursing home facility. If you find yourself having to make this decision, I truly hope the nursing home care your loved one receives is top notch as it is so well deserved by our elderly folks that have worked so hard all their lives and raised our local families. And, if you find yourself ever in need of help because these promises were not met and caused your loved one harm, come see us. We've seen it and we understand what your family is going through. We want to keep these things from happening over and over again and make the nursing homes keep their promises.

Many of us have our pets sleep with us in our beds; I think it's great and they keep you warmer than an electric blanket. I love having our dogs in our room at night. It makes me feel safe. However, I must say, during a storm at night, its not so nice. Don't get me wrong, I love our dogs, but when a storm hits it is a free-for-all on their part. We have three dogs: Barley, Guinness (you know the boys from the dog blog) and my grand dog Jackson. When a storm comes at night, all three feel the need to be up around my face and head, or lying over my body or just digging at me to get under the covers as fast as they can. I do my best to calm them all down, but once you get one calmed down, another one starts, and it's all on again. This is when I get NO sleep and I have to come in to the office looking like a zombie. Well, on June 18, 2014, and again on October 6, 2014, it was a great light show from the lighting during a storm. The thunder was loud and the dogs were showing me how afraid they were. Truth be told, I'm really not crazy about storms either. We all sat in bed watching what we could on the TV, with the volume turned up extra loud to try to drown out the thunder. Nothing, and I mean nothing, worked. They were on the bed, off the bed, under the bed, beside the bed, in the master bathroom, in the closets and once again, nothing worked. I finally got all three of them to lie down on the bed with me. That turned into a jocking for a position around my face and head. I tried to explain that just lying with me was ok; they didn't need to be lying on my face and head and I don't know why they just didn't understand that. It's funny how dogs can comprehend so many things, but they just didn't understand that me trying to breath was important, not only to me, but for them too. After the big storms passed and they all laid down, up close and all in my face - panting in my face I might add, my alarm clock went off. I just laid there after I shut my alarm off and thought, "Oh my stars, how am I going to go into the office and function??" I just need a few hours of sleep and I can make it though the whole day. Well, I made it to work and was functional. I might not be 100 percent on those days, but I do my best to make it and try to look like I know what I'm doing. I love my boys very much, but when it comes to storms, I think we are all going to start to sleep in the basement family room. Bark on Bordas Dog Nation, Bark on.

My daughter decided before her baby was even born that she was going to teach the baby sign language. I was skeptical and uncertain why you would want to sign to your baby. Would the little one depend on signing and not learn to talk? My niece did some limited signing with her little one and felt that it was a deterrent for him in beginning to talk (let me tell you - he is now three and he definitely talks!). So, when my granddaughter was about five to six-months-old my daughter started signing to her. She initially used three to four signs: drink, milk, more, and bath. As she got older, more signs were introduced: water, ball, duck, please, eat, and noises. This went on for months and months with seemingly no results. Once baby girl hit her first birthday, it all started to sink in! She started with the sign for more. More fruit, more milk and then more tickle!! We knew she understood exactly what more was when she wanted more tickles. It's one thing to want more food, but more tickles seemed to prove that she knew what more actually was. Her second "ah-hah" sign was airplane. My daughter lives near the Miami airport so when they go outside for a walk, they can always spot an airplane in the sky. She searched and searched the sky for an airplane and when she saw one the arm came out and she made the sign. It seems as if signing for a baby is kind of like talking in that the signs are not perfect just like words are not perfect at first. I often have to ask my daughter what sign baby girl is making. Just like a mom usually has to interpret baby's words for everyone, my daughter has to interpret signs. Baby girl is now 18-months-old and she has more than 60 signs under her belt! It's amazing. It's wonderful to see how she can communicate and how much more she seems to understand. She even knows the sign for toilet and we're hoping it will help when it's time to potty train. Gigi has learned quite a few signs, but not nearly as many as baby girl. Baby girl is going to be a big sister come January and it will be interesting to see how the siblings communicate when the new baby gets old enough to sign. I'll keep you posted! And by the way, she is beginning to talk so if the sign language slowed talking down a little, it was worth it.

'Twas the night before an exam and all through the house not a creature was stirring except for A MOUSE! It was last Tuesday, I was almost asleep until I heard my roommate Sarah, call out, "Liv, there is a mouse. It just ran behind the couch." I called her crazy until I saw the mouse myself. I immediately thought that it would make sense for the mouse to come inside since every other creepy crawler in the town of West Liberty likes to move in with us. Due to the fact that we are two college students who have always had our fathers kill the creepy crawlers when living at home, we argued over who was going the lift the couch up and who was to swat at the mouse; yes, our weapon of choice was a fly swatter. Since we have terrible aim when it comes to smashing any bugs, Sarah came up with the bright idea to open the door in hopes that the mouse would run out. I hopped on her back as she made the heroic move to unlock the door. As we lifted the couch up, anxious to see what would happen next, there was no sign of the mouse. Frazzled, we both continued to check under all the other pieces of furniture, but still could not find a trace of the mouse...until Sunday night. I was sitting on the couch studying, and saw something run across my floor. I didn't believe my eyes until I saw the critter run by a second time! Determined to put an end to this problem, we set traps and put cheese on them. For the second time, the mouse outsmarted us and ate all the cheese off each trap! I find it very ironic that there is a stray kitten outside of our apartment and a mouse inside our apartment. It almost sounds like the perfect Tom and Jerry episode! I have never believed in karma until this moment. This summer, one of my co-workers had an unwanted meeting with a mouse. I found the story quite comical and we made jokes about her new acquaintance. I now know the fear that she felt and am hoping that she is getting a good laugh out of my mouse like karma. I plan to purchase some of the sticky mousetraps with hopes that the mouse won't be able to outsmart us on this one!

It was Friday, September 19, 2014, and I had the day off. For the first time in a very long time, I found myself without any commitments or housework to catch up on. This time something was different, my youngest has entered kindergarten; the kids were all in school!!! I had several hours-this is like gold to me. I definitely wanted to spend my day outside. The weather was just perfect and as I know all too well, it's just a matter of time before the blustery snow would soon roll into the valley. I wanted to take advantage of my time and this beautiful day by spending it outside. So, this is what I did. My husband and I spent the day strolling along the streets of The Historic Centre Market of Wheeling. I am embarrassed to say that in the past, my experience with Centre Market was stop in here or there to get what I needed and be on my way. I had never taken the time to really enjoy what they had to offer. We made a point to walk into several shops. We met and chatted with some very nice business owners. I was quite impressed with what many of these shops had to offer. We did a little tasting at The Soup Shack with their homemade soups. We made mental notes of places we could bring the kids to grab something to eat that we never seem to think of at the time we are trying to decide. Michael's Beef House is on our list, I think the teenagers would love this food. I've always been a patron of the classical Coleman's Fish Market and love Later Gator, but today we ate at Market Vines. Let me say, it was delicious and we cannot wait to go back to try many more things on the menu. Of course, it did not stop there; we certainly had to bring home some cookies for our kids and a little something sweet for Mom and Dad as well. Cookie Pops was the next stop of the day. Admittedly, it's a shame it took me so long to take the time to find this little corner of the valley and the touch of unique things it had to offer. Better late than never, I guess. So this is my personal tribute and recognition to our beautiful Centre Market, the small business owners, all their hard work, and what they have brought and continue to add to our hometown. I think I may have found one of my favorite places in Wheeling - The Historic Centre Market.