tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-110856482012-01-25T20:01:17.805-07:00Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.comBlogger2401100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-6031048720387807232012-01-24T06:00:00.002-07:002012-01-25T13:26:56.758-07:00

I am a popcorn fan. Not sure where the love of the white, fluffy, salty stuff came from, but I do love a big bowl of popcorn and a hot cup of cocoa on a cold winter’s night. Actually, any season is the perfect season for popcorn, the crunchy delight goes with just about everything and makes life sweeter even though it’s salty. A few years ago, Mike got me this amazing stovetop popcorn popper

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-56120070307481846192012-01-17T09:31:00.001-07:002012-01-17T09:31:00.276-07:00

Something fantastic has happened. It has become fashionable to wear mismatched socks! Let me tell you what a huge blessing that is for a mom like me who loses socks daily in the washer and dryer loads. A mom who can’t seem to find her kiddos a matched pair of socks at 7:10 am as the bus is roaring down the road towards our lane. A mom who needs to stay calm in a chaotic world full of insanity and

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-22189933880468950672012-01-11T09:31:00.000-07:002012-01-11T09:31:11.651-07:00

There once was a day (a very normal day) many years ago, when I sat in my kitchen with my eldest daughter, Hannah, and wondered if I would ever again get out of my house. I was feeding her lunch and the four walls seemed to be closing in on me. There she sat ooing and cooing at me with strained peas and mashed sweet potatoes on her face and all I could think about was whether or not I would be

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-24301875280338367532012-01-03T06:00:00.002-07:002012-01-03T06:00:09.637-07:00

Sometimes the memories of my youth feel like distant thunder rolling over the hills in the background of my life. I remember when we popped popcorn on the stove top by shaking the Jiffy pop pan over a red hot burner as fast as our hands could move, trying hard not to burn the kernels on the bottom. I remember when there were no VCR’s let alone DVR’s and we had to watch The Wizard of OZ when it

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-25058996010591475242011-12-27T07:00:00.003-07:002011-12-27T07:00:09.100-07:00

(Part 3 in a 3 Part Series) Note: This is my last column in my 3 Part Series on the Gifts of Christmas. If you missed any off the columns, you can always find them on the Graphic Publications website. Hope. It’s that feeling that tomorrow will be better no matter what today brings. It’s the ever present drive to reach for something you can’t quite grasp with your hands, but you can always grasp

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-88071180384437230582011-12-20T06:05:00.000-07:002011-12-20T06:05:35.232-07:00

(Part 2 in a 3 Part Series) Note: Please join me here next week as I wrap up my 3 Part Series on the Gifts of Christmas. Last week was on the gift of Comfort. This week is on the gift of Joy. If you missed a column, you can find them all on the Graphic Publications website. Things don’t always go my way. I would guess that things do not always go your way either. Life is full of disappointments,

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-18488606528650724532011-12-13T08:00:00.002-07:002011-12-14T08:04:48.960-07:00

(Part 1 in a 3 Part Series) Note: Please join me over the next three weeks as I share a 3 Part Series with you on the Gifts of Christmas. This week is on the gift of Comfort. The Christmas story is truly a simple story. One filled with hope, love, grace…and gifts. Christmas is filled with gifts. Not the packages wrapped in red and green paper under your Christmas tree, but the gifts that can’t

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-84065621267613762332011-11-29T09:54:00.002-07:002011-12-07T21:17:39.545-07:00

My dad grew up in Brooklyn, and so as a child, I spent some time in New York City. My grandparents had this two story apartment building in an Italian section of Brooklyn, and we would drive there for visits in my dad’s little, yellow Honda Civic. We would drive late into the night and arrive well past midnight. I never quite got used to the noises of the city. All night long there would be cars

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-67259917885821168042011-11-22T09:44:00.003-07:002011-11-23T09:57:41.312-07:00

You know what they say; time is money. Well, having little of either time nor money, I have found some creative ways to use what little time I have. As a mom of four, I find myself spending inordinate amounts of time as a chauffeur carting my children to and from practices, lessons, events, and activities. I think my rear end is forever molded to the plush cover of the front seat of my minivan.

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-88805092099655549892011-11-15T08:27:00.000-07:002011-11-15T08:27:00.820-07:00

Well, last week I did something I probably should not have done. Something I have never done before. It made my heart race at an unheard of speed, created a lump in my throat, and pumped a rush of adrenaline in my veins that made me light headed. I went to a furniture auction…alone….and came home with a couch and a loveseat. My first fear was that my husband, Mike, might make me sleep in the

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-15647609643365466672011-11-08T09:58:00.000-07:002011-11-08T09:58:00.220-07:00

Struggling with loads of laundry, clutter in the kitchen and chaos in your life? Stress can easily steal our joy. Trish Berg reminds us to simplify the small stuff and find Joy in the Journey. Tomorrow is a very big day at the Berg house. No, it is not someone’s birthday. It is not Christmas, not even Thanksgiving yet. It is (brace yourself) my great-big-awesome-spectacular date with my eight (

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-80604430631493959002011-11-01T10:40:00.002-06:002011-11-02T10:04:59.720-06:00

Struggling with loads of laundry, clutter in the kitchen and chaos in your life? Stress can easily steal our joy. Trish Berg reminds us to simplify the small stuff and find Joy in the Journey. Every year, when I turn another year older, it causes me to contemplate where I have been and where I am going. I am not sure I like growing older, but I do like growing wiser. And hopefully with every

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-80299332346534521542011-10-26T10:56:00.000-06:002011-10-26T10:56:58.265-06:00

It was an act of random tire explosion, no more, no less. We had just spent the morning cheering Sydney on at her cross country meet, and were driving home from Buehler’s with a trunk full of groceries and a van full of kids. Mike heard a rattling of sorts, so we hushed the kids and rolled the window down. It sounded like it was coming from the passenger side rear tire. No big deal, so we went

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-84314284204847528372011-10-25T05:59:00.002-06:002011-10-26T10:40:20.990-06:00

Struggling with loads of laundry, clutter in the kitchen and chaos in your life? Stress can easily steal our joy. Trish Berg reminds us to simplify the small stuff and find Joy in the Journey. I had never been to Alabama before, that is, until my dad moved to Birmingham after my parents’ divorce. I was in high school at the time, and Alabama was a world apart from my small Ohio hometown. I got

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-70888216799604713652011-10-11T05:00:00.001-06:002011-10-11T05:00:13.774-06:00

To say that I am a fan of words is an understatement. I am a communicator and I use words a lot. My husband word testify to that. And when words are spoken to me, they soak into my soul. Words are definitely my love language, and over my lifetime I have learned that sometimes, it is the simple little words that mean the most. I love great big, unique words like elucidate, picturesque and

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-16603462425835059562011-10-04T05:51:00.000-06:002011-10-04T05:51:00.530-06:00

It happens like clockwork. After my youngest kiddo leaves for school, I let out a big sigh of relief. Accomplishing that task, launching four children into their school day, is quite an accomplishment in and of itself. When they were little, we spent time snuggling under quilts reading books, now I spend time packing lunches and carpooling them to basketball and cross country practice. Life

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-74568100294010591862011-09-27T06:00:00.000-06:002011-09-27T06:00:02.489-06:00

I sometimes get caught up in my own life that I forget how important my time is to my children. I seem to value the wrong things, like grading papers for school, folding the laundry, or even writing this column. I schedule my days as if every minute of my time is important to only me, to what I need to get done. I forget that my life is not about me, not about what I can accomplish in the next

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-46925396540437313362011-09-20T05:00:00.000-06:002011-09-20T05:00:17.779-06:00

Well, I had a minor fender bender last night. I feel as stupid as a slug under a rock for having hit the car in front of me as I skidded to a stop at the red light. It was totally my fault and I have no good reason for causing the accident other than I was driving home after a twelve hour work day, exhausted, and apparently not as focused as I should have been behind the wheel. The good news

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-43382281572501093122011-09-14T10:06:00.001-06:002011-09-14T10:06:26.463-06:00

Life keeps changing, and my friendships keep changing. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me, but sometimes it still does. It seems the older I get, the more I cherish the friends that I have in my life. Maybe it’s because I know how special they are, or maybe it’s because I realize that life is short, and the time we have together is precious. I have been blessed to have some amazing friends in

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-47884307606051462762011-09-07T06:59:00.001-06:002011-09-07T07:00:51.503-06:00

Why is it that exercise always sounds great in my head and yet I never seem to find a way to fit it into my life? I have had seasons in my life when I faithfully made it to step aerobics class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning, and lost some weight. Mainly because my best friend was the teacher and the guilt killed me whenever I missed. And, Carla was always a great encourager, bless

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-68145085290763503912011-08-23T13:58:00.001-06:002011-08-23T13:58:00.363-06:00

I am not sure why back to school time brings back that knot-in-the-pit-of-my-stomach feeling. I have been through oodles of back to school seasons, seventeen of my own, and eleven of my children’s. Each one bringing its own panic attack of excitement mixed with complete and utter fear of what lies ahead. The earliest I remember was Kindergarten, though my memory is somewhat fuzzy on that one. I

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-67279386705636012212011-08-16T09:56:00.001-06:002011-08-16T09:56:00.846-06:00

Who would have ever thought that a girl like me, from the suburbs of Cleveland, would end up living on a farm with beef cattle just outside my picture window, goats in my barn and hay in the field next to my home? Who would have ever thought I would have a barn in the first place? Yet, here I am, and so my life goes. Last week, while my husband, Mike, was busy coaching football, my daughter’s

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-49333568919498563852011-08-09T08:18:00.001-06:002011-08-09T08:18:00.234-06:00

When you first think about starting a family, you don’t think about the logistics of that decision. You are all wrapped up in holding that precious little baby and the joy you will feel when he holds your finger for the first time. But as a veteran mom with sixteen years of motherhood (and far too many inches) under my belt, I can tell you that family bedroom logistics become an integral part of

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-40923872992258740192011-08-02T07:14:00.001-06:002011-08-02T07:14:00.178-06:00

For months I look forward to the summer. I look forward to lighter schedules, sleeping in, eating Popsicles and doing nothing at all. Hanging out with kids, cooking out, sitting on the porch and sipping lemonade. Most of all, soaking up the sun. Well, last week, I hit my limit. My kids started fighting with each other on Monday and didn't stop until Friday. "Mom, Colin is teasing me..." "Mom,

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-54350239939255736562011-07-31T07:13:00.000-06:002011-07-31T07:13:24.012-06:00

Motherhood is a strange and wondrous adventure. One you can hardly prepare for even in the best of circumstances. Now that I have been a mom for almost sixteen years, I have seen many sides of motherhood. Some bring out the best in me, and some the worst. But one thing I know for sure, all moms are on this journey together. You know you are a mom if you have UFO’s on your kitchen floor. Not the

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-27817095029970880652011-07-20T07:53:00.001-06:002011-07-20T07:54:35.123-06:00

There are some people in this world who see the good in me, the best of who I am. They see me for who I want to be more than who I am at the moment. I like to be around those people. They make me feel better about myself, and I think they even make me a better me. I am sure you have those people in your life as well. The people who, when you are around them, make you feel really good about

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-84308004451927716632011-07-13T08:00:00.000-06:002011-07-13T08:00:18.798-06:00

Every year, my family goes to Camp Luther, a family church camp on the bluff of Lake Erie. I get to be a kid all over again and I always find more of what I am searching for on that bluff, and this year was no different. We arrived to find a new path down to the lake where we could read our morning devotions, watch the eagles fly overhead or watch the orange and red sunset in the evenings. They

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-13361645641397064062011-07-06T13:24:00.000-06:002011-07-06T13:24:57.068-06:00

Life seems to me moving faster than I could have imagined. If you are under thirty years old, you are probably tired of hearing that. If you are over forty, you are nodding your head right about now. The older I get the faster the time goes, and yes, I did walk to school uphill both ways in a blizzard with no shoes. I realize I sound like my parents used to when it annoyed me so. But then

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-38520076300403433452011-06-28T05:00:00.002-06:002011-06-28T05:00:06.476-06:00

If I have learned one thing over a lifetime of discoveries, from how to put make-up on at stoplights to when to stop talking and start listening, it’s that women struggle with transparency. We do not want others to see us clearly. We want to hide all of our flaws and imperfections from the world and pretend that we look better than we do, feel better than we feel and have it all together. I

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-18585149100166926942011-06-14T15:24:00.002-06:002011-06-14T15:24:00.335-06:00

Maybe I have been watching too much television lately, but it seems that my life has become somewhat of a reality show. I get this eerie feeling that there are cameras following me around my house catching all my worst moments on film for all to see. If life were a reality show, I sure could use a better producer, better lighting to make me look younger, and more flattering camera angles to

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-14644490850645628992011-06-08T15:37:00.000-06:002011-06-08T15:37:45.839-06:00

When our children were very young, we began a tradition that continues to this day at the Berg house. On the last day of school, we celebrate the start of summer by sitting down at the supper table and talk about everything we want to do over the summer months. We make a list we call our Camp Palooza list and hang it on the kitchen bulletin board. All summer long, we work on completing everything

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-13755483993915040492011-06-01T05:29:00.001-06:002011-06-01T05:29:00.595-06:00

When my children were born, I was left with an indelible impression of God’s love. Each time I was blessed to give birth to a baby, it felt as if God had taken a piece of my heart and gave it legs. Though I have never adopted a child, I have dear friends who have, and they have shared with me that they felt the same way about their children. So I know it is not as much about the giving birth as

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-7253972370612689782011-05-24T06:00:00.000-06:002011-05-24T06:00:08.899-06:00

I have gone back to the future. No I have not invented a time machine. I have become a college student once again, and have even moved into a dorm for two weeks on campus. It is such an odd place to be at forty-two, the same position I was many years ago at eighteen. Though I am not the same person I once was then. I remember the night before I left for college like it was yesterday, even though

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-67484141558905922612011-05-03T08:29:00.000-06:002011-05-03T08:29:00.453-06:00

It doesn’t take much to make me happy. Just give me what I want when I want it and I will be a happy camper. Not that camping makes me happy, mind you. I am not a sleep-in-a-tent sort of person. Even campers are not enough for me. I much prefer a soft bed in an air conditioned hotel with room service, if you get my drift. Boy that makes me sound difficult, or at least high maintenance. My

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-27286196310796705182011-04-26T05:00:00.000-06:002011-04-26T05:00:06.753-06:00

As a mom, I have learned to enjoy the simple things in life. Gone are the days of long, hot bubble baths by candlelight, long walks on the beach in silence and sleeping in until I wake up naturally on my own around ten. Now, my time is not my own. My money is not my own. My life is not my own. I am ruled by four aliens I call my children and all of the demands that came along with them as a

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-28118993957895190472011-04-19T05:46:00.003-06:002011-04-19T05:46:00.417-06:00

Dear Trish, I have been thinking about you a lot lately and wanted to write you this letter from your 42 year old self. I know you worry about a great many things and that life seems very complicated at times, so I wanted to give you some assurances to help you along the way. When you are five and you want to wear that white sweater with the red speckles all over it, keep in mind that photos of

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-24031746970814870372011-04-12T06:02:00.001-06:002011-04-12T06:02:00.397-06:00

All of my life, I have disliked Sunday evenings. Well, that’s not all true. I think it goes much deeper than dislike. I would say “hate” except that that is such a strong word, a word I teach my children not to use because it is so cruel sounding. Ok, so let’s just say that all my life I have detested Sunday evenings. There. That works. You might be wondering why Sunday evenings hold such a bad

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-60421249177229634002011-04-05T05:51:00.002-06:002011-04-05T05:51:00.778-06:00

Lately, my days seem to be filled with chaos. I keep thinking back over the timeline of my life and can’t seem to pinpoint the exact moment when my life shifted into fifth gear. Yet, the acceleration seems to continue from day to day, and I am caught trying desperately to catch my breath as the days fly by like landmarks outside my minivan window. I remember the diaper-and-sippy-cup years, when

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-50343355707817829482011-03-29T06:03:00.001-06:002011-03-29T06:03:00.751-06:00

I have to admit that I am a kind of a girly girl. I like to dress up, primp my hair and makeup, and take my sweet old time getting ready. Long hot showers. Hours curling my hair. Picking out just the right outfit. Of course I haven’t been able to do that since 1995 when I first became a mom, but whose counting. I haven’t always been a girly girl. In fact, as a child, I was kind of a tomboy.

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-1478345181019665402011-03-22T05:05:00.001-06:002011-03-22T05:05:01.090-06:00

I grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland, in the small town of Olmsted Falls with white picket fences, a dog named Chester and a cat we called Cleaver. Back in those days, in my wildest dreams, I never could have imagined what my life looks like today. Maybe that’s what God had in store all along. A surprise-your-socks-off-life that still continues to amaze me. What I do know is that my children

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-29148761722846358302011-03-15T05:00:00.002-06:002011-03-15T05:00:07.778-06:00

I am tired. Tired of trying to look good. Tired of styling my hair, putting on makeup, cleaning my house, doing laundry, cooking supper, shopping and budgeting. I am just plain tired. When I speak at women’s conferences, the best responses I get come when I share some of my own faults, failures and flaws. I have come to the conclusion that’s because women need to know they are not alone. That we

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-79082740260189512722011-03-08T06:01:00.001-07:002011-03-08T06:01:00.522-07:00

When my girls were little, brushing their hair took a half hour each morning. They dreaded hair brushing time with all the tangles and pulls as I worked out and smoothed their hair. My mom used to tell me I was a little too rough with them when I brushed their hair, as the tears would sometimes flow. I even used de-tangling spray, but no matter how hard I tried, it seemed to be a form of parental

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-41334518309947099642011-03-01T05:00:00.002-07:002011-03-02T06:07:04.658-07:00

I went to the optometrist today and discovered that I need bifocals. Me…bifocals! I might as well get that metal chain necklace thing to wear around my neck, get orthopedic shoes with laces and let my hair go fully gray. It was an I-can’t-believe-I-am-that-old experience if ever there was one. How did this happen? How did I become a bifocal-person? Someone who can’t see near or far without help?

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-35388576920945560562011-02-22T21:41:00.000-07:002011-02-22T21:41:58.079-07:00

Remember when life was simple and snow days were like Christmas morning all wrapped up in sledding, fort building and hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows on top? Boy time flies. Remember when your only home phone was a dial phone with a party line and had a twenty-five foot cord on the headset so you could walk around the room and talk on the phone at the same time? Now we have cell phones as

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-37791782385824701102011-02-22T21:39:00.000-07:002011-02-22T21:39:56.173-07:00

There are many things that I will never understand. I don’t understand cruelty, revenge or hatred in a world where we have been given so much to be thankful for. I will never understand how to speak Spanish, why my alarm clock sounds so annoying at six in the morning or why there are so many app’s for your iPhone. But of all the mysteries in my life, the one that seems completely

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-35144750422004302762011-02-22T21:37:00.000-07:002011-02-22T21:37:07.021-07:00

Few things in life are sure bets. Most of the time, we waddle round aimlessly from this to that not knowing what is to come next. We expect good things and sometimes bad things happen. We expect kindness and sometimes cruelty abounds. We search for answers and sometimes end up with more questions than we had before our journey began. But of all the days I have been on this earth, I have found

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-29051769813297761032011-02-01T05:00:00.001-07:002011-02-01T05:00:04.857-07:00

Trish's column runs weekly in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. When the whistle blows and the clock runs out, what have you truly won? A game? A match? A trophy or tournament? Sure, it feels great to win, to come out ahead on the scoreboard. But when that’s all you play for, it’s an empty feeling at best. This past Christmas, Santa blessed us with the video game, Guitar Hero, and let

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-15600946888550868012011-01-25T05:00:00.001-07:002011-01-25T05:00:12.037-07:00

I love my forties (and I knew I would!) At forty-two, I can see things with perspective. So, here are forty-two things I have learned in forty-two years. Your mom isn’t always right, though most of the time, she is. Love is fragile. Cherish and nourish it. Words are important. Choose them carefully. Memories made are more valuable than anything you can wrap in fancy paper. Being yourself is the

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-9127416951957224722011-01-11T05:52:00.001-07:002011-01-11T05:52:00.095-07:00

Trish's column appears weekly in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. Thank you so much for stopping by to read my column this week. It is running at a 10% discount, so it is quite a deal! Do you have a frequent reader rewards card yet? What is that? Well it’s a little plastic card, is free to obtain, and it allows me to track how often you read the column and send you a bazillion emails

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-6175471519715866292011-01-04T05:00:00.002-07:002011-01-04T05:00:02.105-07:00

Trish's column appears in the Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly news. I am not a patient person. It is one of my flaws in a long list of flaws that I try to hide from the world. So I was not in the happiest of places when we took the kids to see the lights at Oglebay in West Virginia last week, and found ourselves in a very long waiting line to get in. It started as a simple plan. We asked dear

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-56966439803998716142010-12-28T05:00:00.003-07:002010-12-29T06:49:24.342-07:00

I like fresh starts. Like a second chance all wrapped up in forgiveness and love, New Year’s Day is fast approaching and we are all getting a do-over. When I was a little girl, my older sister and I would play basketball in the driveway of our childhood home with our dad. We would play games like Around the World and Horse. Being the youngest on the basketball court, I was not the best shot.

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-41124271690043912012010-12-22T05:00:00.004-07:002010-12-22T06:42:18.887-07:00

It is a simple story. A story told for many years, from generation to generation. A story you may know but hardly take the time to ponder. A story that begins and ends with love. It began when God spoke love into this world, into the lives of a young girl and her betrothed. Into our lives as well. It began with Mary and Joseph. I can hardly imagine what Mary and Joseph went through, the trust

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-21245725020992714292010-12-14T05:00:00.002-07:002010-12-16T08:49:07.770-07:00

One Christmas many years back, my husband, Mike, built a manger for me for Christmas. We were newlyweds, poor as dirt and romantic as midnight. We had decided not to exchange gifts with each other that year (back to the poor as dirt reality) but Mike decided to surprise me with the sweetest, handmade manger I ever imagined (since he was romantic as midnight). It is made of old barn siding,

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-32732045037979164642010-12-07T05:00:00.000-07:002010-12-07T05:00:02.229-07:00

Trish's column appears weekly in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ************************************************** 'Twas the week before Christmas, when all through my life, whispered my Christmas to do list, giving me strife. The gifts that were bought from Santa himself, Were not yet sitting up high on a shelf. The children were fighting over this and that And I could

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-23922773454745478312010-12-03T05:00:00.000-07:002010-12-03T05:00:00.240-07:00

Trish's column appears in the Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ******************************************* Well, it is officially Christmas in my heart and in my home. It’s the time of year when I pull out my special Santa mug, decorate my house with little white lights and embrace all that is magical and joyful. I pour a little peppermint mocha creamer into my Santa mug, fill it with

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-68781892092681338972010-11-30T20:51:00.001-07:002010-11-30T21:13:05.531-07:00

Trish's column appears in the Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ********************************************* I don’t have a bucket list of things I want to do before the day I die. I am just not into adventures and risk, and the wild side of life. Traveling to Europe, riding a dog sled across the frozen tundra and jumping out of an airplane (that isn’t crashing) just aren’t my cup of tea

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-85041929969800863802010-11-16T05:36:00.002-07:002010-11-23T09:10:20.591-07:00

This column appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ***************************************************** This time of year, when the cool breezes blow and the leaves have all fallen to the ground, I miss my dad. I lost my dad in November of 1997, and the cool autumn breezes always speak his name to me. It’s the loss that hits me the hardest, the sadness and longing for

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-41769358433518545472010-11-09T06:09:00.002-07:002010-11-10T05:36:16.317-07:00

I am done trying my hardest. No more striving for perfection only to fall short and feel bad. I am not a perfect person; I am a work in progress. And it’s plum exhausting trying to get it all done all the right way all the time. Take shaving my legs, for instance. I try to shave them every time I shower, but sometimes, I just run out of time. Or I forget. Or my shower is cut short when I

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-48938359604259761362010-11-07T06:06:00.002-07:002010-11-07T06:06:00.337-07:00

The year was 1987. I was a senior in high school, and that was the last time I ventured to Cedar Point. That is, until last weekend, when my friend, Teri, and I decided to take our daughters for a girls-weekend at the world famous amusement park. Just to date this historic event, in 1987, the brand new ride there was the Demon Drop, the simple ride that shot you vertical like a thousand feet,

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-41128982025035284732010-11-06T06:04:00.003-06:002010-11-06T06:04:00.546-06:00

I am living in a fog today. I am working on only four hours of sleep due to a sick kiddo being up all night needing a reassuring mom by her side. Being up all night when a child is sick is in the job description of motherhood so what is a loving mom to do? This is not a new experience for me. I’m a mom. I make do. Sometimes, when life becomes overwhelming and stressful, I get through the best

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-80497196771422293462010-11-05T06:01:00.002-06:002010-11-05T06:01:00.214-06:00

I was up late one night, and caught an infomercial for Wen hair care products. It’s not shampoo. It does not lather. It makes your hair shiny and full of life. It is, in fact, the end of ordinary shampoo. The infomercial had me hooked from the get-go. And for only $29.95 plus shipping and handling, you, too, can end the dry, frizzy, fly-away or oily hair in your life for the next thirty days.

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-79725961807594473182010-11-04T05:57:00.000-06:002010-11-04T05:57:38.787-06:00

 This is me my freshman year of high school at Olmsted Falls HS in 1984  There are some things in life that no one can teach you. Things that you just need to learn for yourself, the hard way. This month I turn forty-two, and as a forty-two year old wife and mother of four, I have lived the hard way and have learned a lot. You never get enough sleep. No matter how much sleep you get at night,

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-21661188662871356812010-10-17T13:16:00.001-06:002010-10-17T13:17:20.164-06:00

Osukiddo who commented: "My son is really into football and reading. This would be such a better FAITH-based book than what he's been reading (Lupica, Green, etc.). Thanks for the chance to win." CONGRATS!!!! So, OSUKiddo, you need to email me your mailing address by the end of the week. Email your mailing address to: trishberg [at] trishberg [dot] com. Thanks to all who entered. I wish

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-42730461505234290572010-10-12T06:31:00.002-06:002010-10-12T06:33:10.607-06:00

Remember Why You Play Faith, Football and a Season to Believe By: David Thomas Click here to read the first chapter. Click here to buy the book Learn more about the book here I have such a treat for you this week. My friend, David Thomas, has written an amazing book, and I have a FREE copy to give away this week. All you need to do is either: 1. Post a comment to this blog, or 2. Tweet

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-35765175217332638722010-10-06T05:00:00.001-06:002010-10-06T05:00:00.520-06:00

Trish's column is published weekly and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News It has been raining a lot in the past week. Gray and raining. The kind of weather that makes you want to hit the snooze button on your alarm, roll back over in bed and sleep the day away. When it rains, I want to bake things like chocolate chip cookies, brownies or homemade bread. Rain makes me feel

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-500698123368762092010-09-29T04:45:00.000-06:002010-09-29T04:45:28.759-06:00

Trish's column is published weekly and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ********************************************* I used to be a planner. I used to be someone who went grocery shopping once every two weeks with a long grocery list and meals planned for the entire fourteen days. I used to be an organized person. But that was before I was a mom. Now that motherhood has

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-37893904769786855792010-09-21T05:00:00.001-06:002010-09-21T05:00:07.786-06:00

Trish's column is published weekly and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ********************************* When I was a little girl, I remember getting upset when things did not seem fair. When I was seven and my older sister got to spend the night at her best friend’s house and I was left home with boring old mom and dad, I threw a temper tantrum screaming “It’s not fair!

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-11025584973647355132010-09-14T05:00:00.000-06:002010-09-14T05:00:09.725-06:00

Trish;s column is published weekly and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ******************************************* There are times in life when you just have to laugh. Laugh or go completely insane. So I choose to laugh (though some may think I have chosen the latter). Our family minivan has become the Griswold family minivan, and things just keep getting worse. You

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-24858263403952424232010-09-07T05:09:00.002-06:002010-09-07T09:26:48.241-06:00

This column appears weekly in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ***********************************   Some moments in life take you to a new place. A place you have not been. Some challenges in life stretch you beyond your capabilities and make you stronger, if you let them. These are crossroad moments. I have been watching my daughter, Sydney, in a crossroad moment for the last few

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-28446392392780982752010-09-01T04:12:00.000-06:002010-09-01T04:12:53.135-06:00

This column appears weekly in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. *********************************** I don’t like to be uncomfortable. I am, if you will, a comfort seeker. I like air conditioning in the summer and warm fireplaces in the winter. I am not a fan of camping and prefer a luxury hotel, though have survived camping with my family from time to time. I like warm, fuzzy slippers

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-84360849802240417242010-08-24T05:00:00.003-06:002010-08-24T05:00:03.842-06:00

Trish's column, Joy in the Journey, is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week. ***************************** There is nothing like finding something you don’t want to make you wish you had magic powers to get rid of it. Nothing like wanting something you don’t have to make you wish you could wish upon a star. I want to apologize

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-20831246112587520292010-08-17T05:00:00.001-06:002010-08-17T05:00:04.431-06:00

I spent the day cleaning out my closet. It was time. There are things in my closet that I have not worn in years. Outfits that don’t even fit me anymore (never mind why). My closet is full of outdated styles, hand-me-down fodder and things I had forgotten I even had. I found some unique things in there, things I should have gotten rid of a long time ago. I began by pulling everything out and

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-62791058556321076242010-08-11T07:36:00.000-06:002010-08-11T07:36:26.787-06:00

There are thirteen days, four hours and twenty-six minutes until summer ends and school start, in case you were keeping track. Now, don’t get depressed. I am getting depressed enough for the both of us. Back to school time already? How can that be? Where did the summer go? I had such plans. There were so many things I wanted to do this summer. I wanted to relax and just hang out with my family.

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-76031562251915598142010-08-11T07:34:00.000-06:002010-08-11T07:34:20.225-06:00

It has been said that you should write about what you know. These days, that seems to be a limiting rule for me as my knowledge continually decreases as the number of teenagers in my house increases. Parenting teenagers is not for the weak, the timid or the meek. It is, hands down, the toughest job I have ever had. It is even tougher than parenting a newborn, living on less than two hours of

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-56171779410970133652010-07-27T05:00:00.001-06:002010-07-27T05:00:07.176-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week. ************************************** Silly Band-Itis Sometimes things just don’t make sense. Take, for instance, pet rocks. I know this dates me, but I remember a time when pet rocks were a huge deal. As a little girl I had a Mrs. Beasely doll whom I loved and adored.

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-49484204842302034792010-07-20T05:00:00.006-06:002010-07-20T05:00:01.736-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week. ***************************************** I sometimes find love in my inbox. Love in the form of emails waiting there for me to read. Love because someone, somewhere cared enough to email me something. Granted, many of my emails are junk emails from Lands End, Verizon

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-72908708649368378922010-07-13T05:00:00.002-06:002010-07-13T05:00:07.578-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week.   ***************************** I have made a change in my life. It may not seem like a big change to some of you. But to those of you who get it, who understand the catastrophic alterations this change involves, you will understand how my life will never be the same.

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-37418169319772427032010-07-06T05:00:00.002-06:002010-07-06T05:00:04.306-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week. **************************There is a famous poem by Robert Frost titled, The Road Not Taken, where he describes two roads diverging in the woods and his choice to take the one less traveled. As a mom, I live on the road less traveled most days, and I struggle to figure

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-78789240531104607312010-06-29T05:00:00.002-06:002010-06-29T05:00:04.112-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week. ************************* It has been said that it is easier to give than to receive, and I have lived long enough to know that the real gift is the receiving part. The giving is easy. The receiving, well that’s a whole other story. When I was a young mom with babies

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-57197995803795256462010-06-01T05:08:00.001-06:002010-06-01T05:08:00.264-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week. **************************************** I seem to be going through some changes these days. Call it a mid-life crisis, but it has made me ponder what defines me. It’s an odd place to be-in the midst of middle age, wondering who I am and how the world sees me. And how I

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-16735045813886822222010-05-25T05:00:00.001-06:002010-05-25T05:00:04.260-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week. ******************************* Well, the TV remote control is missing again. I have turned over every couch and loveseat, chair and end table in the family room. I have pulled off the cushions only to find Nutri-grain bar wrappers and Goldfish cracker crumbs. I have

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-52155026659783957562010-05-19T21:10:00.000-06:002010-05-19T21:10:07.210-06:00

By Kristen Jane Anderson with Tricia Goyer If you are looking for some true encouragement, try reading Life In Spte of Me by Kristen Jane Anderson with Tricia Goyer. I have known Tricia Goyer as a fellow author for a few years, and have been utterly blessed and encouragd by each of her books. Life in Spite of Me is the story of Anderson's life, shared with co-author Tricia Goyer, and you

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-10687794908244337072010-05-18T05:00:00.001-06:002010-05-18T05:00:08.044-06:00

Joy in the Journey is a syndicated column published by Graphic Publications, appearing in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ********************************** I put a lot of pressure on myself. I’m a woman and a mom, and I think it kinda goes with the territory. I look at every woman out there in the world, and compare myself to her, and I usually end up on the short end of the stick

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-1223620788760364252010-05-11T05:00:00.002-06:002010-05-11T05:00:07.920-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and appears in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week. **************************************************** I have been around the world in three days. Well, maybe not the whole world, though it seemed that way at times. I went on a whirlwind three day tour of Washington DC with my daughter’s eighth grade class, and learned a

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-40918967447340483482010-05-07T06:45:00.000-06:002010-05-07T06:45:45.951-06:00

Imagine if you will, a perfect Mother’s Day; a day when you get to sleep in as late as you want. In your own bed. Without anyone coming and breathing on you, banging your door open or making so much noise you are forced out of a deep sleep in a panic state of immediate alertness. Imagine if you will, a day where all of your needs are met and you are put at the top of the list. Where what you

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-79994581831935144352010-04-27T05:00:00.004-06:002010-04-29T05:15:02.140-06:00

Joy in the Journey is a syndicated column published by Graphic Publications, appearing in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. *********************************** It has been said that women are from Venus and men are from Mars - but I am moving to Mars. And it has nothing to do with communicating well with my husband. It has to do with weight loss. I have been fighting a lifetime

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-55041260038080217332010-04-20T05:00:00.002-06:002010-04-20T05:00:10.058-06:00

I am convinced that my dad and his family are rolling over in their graves. My Italian side of the family whose rich heritage meant the world to them. I seem to have forgotten all of my Italian heritage, and I don’t know how to reclaim it. What brought all of this memory loss to mind? Well, I spent several days in Chicago at a conference, and one night, we decided to eat supper at Volare’s, a

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-37649985805595890032010-04-13T05:00:00.019-06:002010-04-13T05:00:04.304-06:00

This column is syndicated by Graphic Publications and runs in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ******************************************** There is a song that has defined my life. The song is called “Sunshine on My Shoulders,” and it was written by John Denver. It was the theme song to a television show in the early seventies called simply “Sunshine.” The series only lasted three

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-33011094070275637452010-04-06T04:00:00.002-06:002010-04-06T04:05:12.251-06:00

This column is syndicated by Graphic Publications and runs in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ******************************************** Our lives are full of hidden treasures. Little blessings small enough to be tucked into our hearts without much hullabaloo or celebration. Things we take for granted in our daily dash from dawn til dusk. We walk around life piling up our

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-6354757382588725842010-04-01T06:46:00.000-06:002010-04-01T06:46:32.114-06:00

Trish's syndicated column, Joy in the Journey, is published weekly by Graphic Publications and runs in The Wooster Weekly News and The Bargain Hunter. You can read her columns online here. ****************************************** This may sound arrogant, but I know how to do things right. I know that the shower towels must be hung up on the curtain rod and flattened out so they dry. I know

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-25605935778051059182010-03-31T06:43:00.001-06:002010-03-31T06:44:28.024-06:00

Well, yesterday I had a jolt. I teach an early morning class at Malone University. Now, I am not a morning person, so it is a challenge to get out the door that early. So I usually pack my makeup bag in my purse, and put it on when I am there in the office. It is early, no one else is there, and I can relax, sip my coffee, and apply some liquid base, powder and blush. I know it’s not a perfect

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-75135088944485385642010-03-29T08:19:00.000-06:002010-03-29T08:19:46.896-06:00

Thanks to all who entered to win a copy of Mary Connealy's book The Husband Tree: http://blog.trishberg.com/ THE WINNER IS: Deanna!  tndrupp AT embarqmail DOT com

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-21779953344383313612010-03-24T06:56:00.001-06:002010-03-24T07:00:47.914-06:00

FREE Book giveaway- Post a comment to THIS blog and your name will be entered to win a copy of The Husband Tree by Mary Connealy. Pass this blog URL on, and share the fun! Contest ENDS Sunday March 28th, 2010 at midnight. The winner will be announced here. Include your email so I can notify you personally if you win. ************************************** I am an avid reader, and I love a great

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-30073633248039180462010-03-24T05:00:00.002-06:002010-03-24T07:47:21.694-06:00

Joy in the Journey is published by Graphic Publications and is syndicated in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. *************************************** I have a problem. This problem, you see, has to do with grocery shopping. There are some things at the grocery store I should never buy. N-e-v-e-r. Not because these food items are yummy, high in calories or fat content. But because once

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-48771744036762023822010-03-17T07:00:00.003-06:002010-03-18T12:36:48.110-06:00

Trish's Joy in the Journey column is published by Graphic Publications and apepars in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News. ******************************* There is something to be said about what we learn in elementary school. Those years can be precious as we discover who we want to become. I remember my first grade teacher, Mrs. Dorence, and her kind spirit and hugs like it was

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-74352539194559617672010-03-15T10:28:00.001-06:002010-03-15T10:32:19.389-06:00

I think motherhood is a kind of bait and switch trick. Kind of like when you see that ad in the Sunday paper for that adorable pair of leather boots only to find that they don't carry your shoe size or only have them in polka dot. But they would be happy to show you the full price pair of leather boots they happen to have in your perfect size and color. Bait and switch. They draw you in with

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-71516001432925852412010-03-09T05:00:00.000-07:002010-03-09T05:00:02.395-07:00

Joy in the Journey is syndicated weekly by Graphic Publications in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News .*****************************************Forever seems like a long time. It’s longer than a moment. Even longer than awhile. Forever is longer than I expect it to be which means that things that are supposed to last forever usually don’t.Like friendship.Every woman who once was a little

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-38292586073306477512010-03-06T06:49:00.004-07:002010-03-06T06:57:30.808-07:00

Just wanted to share this amazing blog where you can find fantastic supper swap recipes, tips and all things cooking. If you are a supper swap mom, or a supper swap mom wannabe, I hope you stop by and check it out.http://unpotluck.blogspot.com

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-50092813592041308042010-03-05T05:57:00.007-07:002010-03-05T06:35:29.904-07:00

Ok, yesterday I was desperate. I am not sure what possessed me, but as I got ready to head out the door, I fumbled around the bottom drawer in the bathroom for something. I am not sure what I was looking for, but what I found was the aroma of my youth.There was a bottle of Love's Baby Soft perfume or body spray or something like that. I quickly squirted some on and suddenly, I was tossed back in

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11085648.post-66515949202120159052010-03-03T05:00:00.001-07:002010-03-03T05:00:06.812-07:00

Joy in the Journey is a syndicated column that appears in Ohio in The Bargain Hunter and Wooster Weekly News each week, published by Graphic Publications. ************************************* Life’s not fair. As a mom, I hear that all the time. Back when my children were little, it was about counting the number of sprinkles on each cupcake (which I never did) or who gets the last Swiss Cake

Trish Berghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17974587809859569539noreply@blogger.com3