This is a deeply personal story that has been passed down from generation to generation. I swear this is true because I was told this story by many of my older Great-Aunts and Uncles.

It goes like this. My family, the Niezniowskas were living on a farm in Ukraine, near the Russian border. The time is somewhere after the Bolshevik revolution. 

It was said that a Russian army camp was just over the border. At night, the Russian soldiers would cross the border and take what they wanted.

One morning Great-Great-Great Grandma Berta discovered much to her dismay that the beloved family cow was missing. Farm animals were so important to survival those days and with 11 children, it was an absolute necessity.  She said to her husband, I'm going to go get that cow.

Her husband begged and pleaded with her to not go. "If they kill you, how can I run the farm and raise the 11 children?" 

Well, Berta was not to be dissuaded.  She put on her boots, hat and babushka, threw a shawl over her should...

What do Aaron Donald, the LA Rams player who sacked Joe Cool at the end of the game ensuring the Rams the Superbowl victory, and I have in common?

First, we both attended the University of Pittsburgh. And well, Hail to Pitt-- the blue and gold shall wave forever.  

Second, he wanted to win so his daughter could play in the confetti. What a cute thing to say! And secretly I was rooting for the Rams for just this reason, and that Matthew Stafford, the quarterback, had gone through so much hardship in Detroit. 

I so admire someone who sticks with it, works hard, and then achieves their dream, only to savor every single minute of the success. 

Third, Aaron shut that reporter down when she asked about retirement saying this:

"I'm just in the moment right now," he said. "I'm enjoying this with my family. I promised my daughter this when she was 5 years old, to play in the confetti ... so I'm just in the moment right now. I'm going to enjoy this with my teammates, my family and I'm just ...

Growing up in the tundra of the western Pennsylvania mountains, February 2nd, Groundhog Day, was a legitimate holiday. As a school kid, we so looked forward to the “prognostications” of Punxsutawney Phil. We anxiously awaited, would we have 6 more weeks of winter? Most of the time he did see his shadow-probably because the television lights lit up the gray Pennsylvania winter day. Sadly, it would leave us to trudge through 6 more weeks of boots, mittens, and stepping through crusted-over snow to get the mail from the common bank of mailboxes at the end of my yard. I can still hear the crunch, crunch under my rubber fleece-lined boots.  

But on those magic days like today, Phil would not see his shadow, would not return to his borrow, and we could count on an early spring. Now that I live in Florida, (I moved to the happiest place on earth) and it was warm enough for no jacket, I am a bit nostalgic today and this post reflects those sentiments.

It's a thing - On Wednesday morning, I c...