Class Picture...1972

Okay, everyone...ready to step back in time with me a moment? Grab your LP's and your fringe vests and come along...

I have to say that all of my school experiences were not so happy. But third grade was an exception. In fact, it was one of the highlights of my growing up years.
I felt sort of "one" with my classmates and absolutely loved my teacher, Mrs. S. She was my absolutely favorite teacher of all time!

Add to all of this that my classmates and I were all Partridge Family wannabes, and well...things could not have been better. Dig those outfits! (Go ahead...click on the picture to get every detail of our cool selves.)

No offense to my sweet mom at all here...but now that I have two daughters, I can honestly say...I would not let my own soon-to-be third grader wear go-go boots and miniskirts! Yikes!
But especially if she had bow-legs like me! (Please....no laughing, you all. Somehow they straightened just a tad over the years. But only a tad.)

Sometimes I forget that it isn't only today that we moms walk into stores and grimace to see teen fashions in size 6-8! We're all looking way too groovy here.


So now that I mentioned that bow-legged thing, it will be easy to spot me! heehee

See the guy in the center? With the stripes? His name was Todd and he was held back in Kindergarten, so was a year older than the rest of us, and oh-so mature. He thought he was third grade's answer to Don Juan. I wonder what Mr. Juan is doing now?
And the boy to the left with the cub scout uniform...That was Jimmy. Does he not look a wee bit like JFK? I thought so, even then!

Mavis and Kellie are in there- two of my best friends that year who I laughed with, had sleep-overs with, and sometimes argued with over who's lunch box was the best or if Laura Partridge really sang on the records. (She never would believe me that only Shirley and David did the actual singing...just couldn't let it go...sigh)
So Mavis and Kellie, if you some how come across my blog, be sure to get in touch, OK?
Are you married? Already have grown children, or *gulp* have grandbabies now? Or did you start a bit later like myself and still have young children in tow?

I remember that Mavis and I did an elective where we did a dance routine to "Cherokee People". I just can't hear it now without reliving us practicing our synchronized movements to the whole song. We were so good!

Don't you just wish you could find some of your old friends and classmates from childhood and see them again, even for just an hour over coffee? I do.
But then again, maybe it's best to just leave those memories tucked away where they are sometimes...Maybe they're happier that way. And perhaps we need to sometimes even say a prayer for an old friend that comes into mind...
whether it's the Don Juan of third grade or the girl who no one wanted to sit with.

So, let me know if this inspires you to rummage through those old boxes and stroll down your old memory lane. And if you decide to post one, let me know so I can come see.
Just beware of glaring fashion statements along the way!

Thoughts from Beth Moore...and a little basketball

Before I touch a bit on the Beth Moore telecast, I wanted to thank some of you who told me in my last post that my rose bush was probably a Camellia! I had no idea- thank you!

*Edited to add that the poems I quoted in my last post really tell the story this week. Because, in spite of our early blooms, this morning we have snow showers!

And of course, bare with this mama as I show a couple pictures from my four year old's little basketball class. It's for three and four year olds, and she is the one and only girl. Luckily, all of the boys are adorable little three year olds, so it worked out well.


Some days, she actually became so frustrated, however...she couldn't dribble right or make many baskets and a few times she dissolved into a puddle of tears, even though I tried to explain that all she needed to do was try and have fun.
I prayed this last class would be positive for her, and it was!
She just dribbled all over the place, and swished that ball right into the net! But most of all, she just had a good attitude the entire time! Her teacher (or coach) was amazed!

Lil Cherub peeks behind her basketball for a pose...


And then...she shoots...she SCORES!


(Okay, I clicked too soon, but trust me...when she tossed in that ball, it swished!)

High Fives for everyone!




OK, thank you for indulging me and waiting so patiently. Here goes...

It was an amazing seminar Saturday. To think I was there to be a part of the largest live telecast ever... 150,000 of us all sat "together" from all over the country! And 1000 just in our sanctuary.

It was my very first time hearing Beth Moore...in fact, though I know churches all over have been doing her Bible studies, I had not yet been a part of one. So...as Cyndi said in her reply to me, yes, I was in for a bit of a shock! Because every time I saw her picture on a book cover, I imagined her sooooo refined....sooooo soft-spoken. And she's....well...not.

She's funny and loud, with a huge Texas accent. (And don't get me wrong, I sometimes wish I had a southern accent...it's just that I already had some kind of mental image going on here...)

So, you can imagine that my first few minutes were sitting there, trying to get over all this. But nevertheless, God spoke through her and said many, many things to me.

Her theme was based on her book, "Get out of the Pit" ...the same one that Boomama and Robin from Little Bits of Life are reading in their new Bloggity book club. (I hope to actually read this one now and participate by March 9th if I can get a copy of it by then!)

So many of us have pits. Some of our own choosing and some that sort of chose us. But one thing I took home with me that day is that God loves us more than we can imagine and wants victory for each and every one of us.
Sometimes, we have to start with the simplest of truths before we can move on. We all know that God loves us as "head knowledge" but I know that I, for one, need to let this knowledge seep way down into my spirit. I'll share this story, which touched my heart...

Her first grandson just turned one last week, and her daughter had told her that on the night of his birthday she just had go into his room on the exact hour that he had been born and hold him. He didn't awake, but she held him and told him how much the past year had meant to her and how much she loved him...all while he slept in her arms.
Then Beth said, (not word for word but almost) "How much more than us human, earthly and evil parents does God love us. When you are tossing and turning, trying to sleep, He longs to hold you, comfort you, and tell you how much He loves you. Not just loves you...delights in you."

Wow. That is a hard one to completely grasp in my being...He loves each of us individually...delights in us...more than the sweetest parent ever could.

I don't think I have totally absorbed everything from the telecast as of yet...but I wanted to share just this tiny taste of it all.

A wonderful week to each of you!

Little Signs of Spring...and Hope

Weekend Thoughts...

"The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month."
~Henry Van Dyke

"In February there are days,
Blue, and nearly warm,
When horses switch their tails and ducks
Go quacking through the farm.
When everything turns round to full
The sun upon its back -
When winter lifts a little bit
And spring peeks through the crack."
~Dorothy Aldis

I took this picture a few days ago...the large, pink flowering bush which graces the humble entry way to our home.
I know so little about plants, but for some reason, this special bush (primrose?) always opens it's first bud or two even before January ends. Now it is full of blooms!
In these cold, rainy days we have at this time of year in the northwest, this bush always
represents a hope for spring... even when there is no other hope in sight.



Right on the other side of our front door is one, lonely little crocus peeking it's face out to the world. Although a little tentative, she almost appears reach upwards by faith...even though she stands alone.



I think God maybe showing me a few lessons from these first signs of Spring.


I spent almost the entire day today at a live Beth Moore telecast at our church. I hope to write more about this later....it was quite the event!

When I returned home from the meeting late this afternoon, I took some time with my little girls, running beside them as they rode their bikes around the culdesac. We stopped briefly at the little Woods near the end of our street, and stood on the little bridge.

In the land of suburbia, it is so nice to still have this tiny Woods, with a creek running right through it. The rains from this morning had stopped, but the creek was now running fast and furious. I usually have only gone walking to in the summertime, when it usually no more than trickle.
This little piece of forest is like a little hidden gem, that we so easily can forget is there...because it is not in our view. We forget that all we have to do is walk down the road and there it is, waiting for us.

So now...I'm waiting for Spring. But I'm taking so much hope in all of the signs I see as wintertime ends and new life slowly begins to peek out of the ground and look to the sky!

Blessings -and a wonderful weekend to each of you!

A Wonderful Read...

I don't normally post book reviews (unless of course you count the ones I do for "Fall into Reading"- those wonderful bloggy events that I sometimes start but don't quite finish...) Ahem.

Anyway...I just had to tell you all about a book I just finished reading this very night. (Yes, I just closed it only moments ago!) But I feel like so many of you are real friends that I wanted to share it with you a bit...
It is called Gardenias for Breakfast and I truly enjoyed every page.
It was actually hard to put down...but not in the way of hard suspense, but in the sense that I seemed to befriend the main characters and became so involved that I didn't want to leave them.

This is a book that I may be a little bias about because it happens to be written by one of my favorite authors. I'm speaking of Robin Jones Gunn.
Some of you may know her from the Sisterchicks books, Christy Miller...or my personal favorite, The Glenbrook series.

She also happens to live in my neck of the woods and I have had the privilege of meeting her twice, as well as hearing her speak. Let me just say that she is not only a fabulous speaker from the heart, but she is a friend to everyone she meets.
She writes in a style that is, at times, incredibly deep in it's simplicity. And I always feel just a little closer to God after I've read one of her books.

Gardenias for Breakfast is not a part of a series, but a single story she wrote for The Women of Faith. It is about a woman in her middle years who longs to bring her twelve year old daughter back for a visit to the 92 year old grandmother that had such a positive influence on her. Circumstances present themselves so that this can finally happen, and we follow them on their journey from Maui where they reside, back to her grandmother's place in Louisiana.

Many layers seem to unfold for us as we travel with them...and when they finally arrive, we feel as though we are instantly transported to the small southern town and can almost taste the sweet tea that they share with "Grand Mary," as well as hear their charming southern accents drip from their lips.

If you are looking for a story with huge tragedy, or only crave high suspense or romance (and I love a good romance!) than you might be disappointed. Because although it is really none of the above, it does weave a beautiful tapestry throughout the tale of family love despite failings, and of God's tenderness. And all throughout, it is dotted with both humor and poignant lessons that are learned along the way about the power of generational ties and most of all... forgiveness.

There is so much more that I could say about this book...the way it forced me to re-examine my own still-budding relationship with my little daughters...the way it made me feel grateful to have had such a good relationship with my own mom.
But mainly, I guess I would have to say that by the time I turned the last page, I had not only learned a lot from the characters in the story...but they all had left me with a warm feeling inside...like a sip of hot chocolate.

Pictured (slightly blurry): Myself, Robin and my mom at a tea where Robin spoke in 2004.

Praying for Amy...

My tone is turning now from the crazy to the sublime...and so very heartbreaking.
I feel such a heaviness for someone right now...someone I don't even know.

I've never displayed her button in my sidebar like so many of you.
But when I read the news in several other blogs that the doctors have deemed her medical condition terminal and that there seems to be no hope in sight after running the course of so many treatments....my heart just broke.
She is a young wife and mommy...and just reading her post filled with honest mourning but grace and faith reduced me to tears.
Her name is Amy.

Most of you who blog already know about this. And our coorperate hearts are breaking right now. Please pray for her as you never have before.

I believe that when all hope is gone...that He becomes our Hope.
I believe that yes, God still heals and does the miraculous. Please pray for this.
I believe that God's mercy never fails and that He can give peace that passes understanding. Please pray for this to enfold not only Amy, but her entire family, who are hurting and perhaps, a little afraid.

"Bear one another's burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ." ~ Galations 1:3

I'm dreaming of a white potty

Just wondering...

Were you ever peacefully sleeping, drifting off to that pleasant state of R.E.M., when slowly...somewhere in in the deep crevices of your mind, you become slowly aware that you need to go to the bathroom. But all of the rest of your body is arguing with the one renegade member- the bladder. The rest of your body does not want to get up out of your warm bed, just for the selfish needs of Bladder.

So, it hunkers down deeper under the covers, trying to ignore Bladder's irritating pleas.

But your dreams start to take on a slightly different path.

Suddenly, you excuse yourself to that old flame -you- knew -in- high school- that- doesn't- hold- a- candle- to -your- husband- but -you- always- wondered- whatever- became- of- him, and hurry to find the little girl's room. But on entering, you find that it isn't a restroom after all, but is actually a crowded room filled with people of both genders, eating Ritz crackers and socializing. You think you see Mary Tyler Moore laughing at a joke your mom just told, but you don't have time to make sure.
Because by then, you feel your bladder begin to do the mambo, and you quickly duck out to continue your quest for a bathroom- any bathroom.

Finally, you find one...and it's gorgeous with cushion seats. Just as you sit down, however, you see to your horror that there are no partitions and that it is in full view of the previous party you encountered...along with your former boyfriend, who is now dipping into a bowl of guacamole.
Hurrying back up, you hope no one- especially what's his name- saw your attempt at the open potty, and you scurry away, searching through every nook and cranny you see for an available and private commode. To no avail.
Whenever hope seems to be in view, it turns out to be just another sad mistake...all the while, your bladder is yelling and screaming "Just go anywhere!".

Finally, you wake up with a start. The rest of your body gives in to that squeaky wheel of a bladder, and you stumble down the hall to your real bathroom.

The actual feel of cold porcelain never seemed so good in all your life.

So...I was just wondering. Hypothetically, of course.

Monday Odds and Ends

Today, this is one of those posts that sort of scatters over all different subjects...so, hang on to your coffee cup....


Is it just me, or is 2007 already zooming along at breakneck speed?
It's President's Day, but pretty much a normal day for us....hubby still has to work and we still will be doing a little school work. Math, language arts...and learning more about presidents, of course! (George and Honest Abe, to be precise.)
My oldest is mostly over her little bug she had. We're so thankful it was very short-lived, since so many of our friends had it drag on for weeks!

And some exciting news in our extended family...
Hubby's brother and his wife (who live very close to us) have been in the process of trying to adopt an African American toddler. She is actually the birth child of the adopted child of one of hubby's other siblings! (Follow me? No? Just trust me, there's a family connection here...) ;) My in-laws have been married for about ten years and have no children. (She has some medical conditions which have deemed her not a good candidate for having children of her own.)

Well, they are still trying to work through some red tape and had hoped to have her by now...but meanwhile, last weekend we just received the shock of a lifetime! She is 3 months pregnant!!! She is under very good medical care and we are all very excited, but prayers are appreciated for mom and baby to remain healthy throughout this pregnancy.

But can you imagine how they will have their hands full by this summer?! Never been parents and then to suddenly adopt a toddler and have a newborn...let the excitement begin! heehee

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On a completely different subject, I mentioned briefly awhile back that I would tell more about why we decided to keep our pup, Mandy. (I say pup and not puppy...when they reach a certain size, it's just hard to say pup-py, no matter how young they still technically are!)

The final decision to keep her came when I went for my sleepover visit to my mom's a few weeks ago. Not only did I have a much needed, relaxing visit with her, but it also proved some things to me. We ended up watching a show that some of you recommended but I can't get at my place- "The Dog Whisperer". We sat, transfixed, for 2 whole hours, and I was simply blown away by how he was able to train those wild dogs!
They all made Mandy seems like a pussycat!
I also wondered how my husband would do, frankly, with the kids and the pup. To call it a test may imply a little more conscience thought than I actually put into it, but yet, it was a bit of a test, in retrospect.
You see, I had been basically doing all of the training, correcting, feeding, rescuing....and he had yet to connect with her. But something happened during my night away. During his time of taking charge, he and Mandy began to....bond.
I was amazed to see such changes...and not only with that doggie\dad relationship, but with Mandy herself. She was starting to calm down...ever so slightly, mind you....but she was definitely mellowing just a tad.
I really felt then that my prayers for wisdom were being answered. And I really have a feeling that she's going to make a great dog when she grows all the way out of her gangly puberesent stage.

Just so you all remember...this is how she looked when we brought her home the day after Thanksgiving...
(That's my little seven year old girl's hand, for some size perspective...have you not seen anything sweeter and more cuddly with four little legs?)



And here is how she looked a week or so ago...


(That stretch puts her at about the length of child who was in the first picture at a mere two and half months later. Three words...Puppy Chow Bulk!)

Oh, and see that vacuum in the picture? That vacuum is never far from sight when Mandy is around. She always manages to find papertowels to pull out of the trash and tear them up into itty bitty peices. Is that fun, or what! Even better is snitching wood from by the fireplace and making sawdust everywhere...*sigh*

Anyway, needless to say, she's still a lot of work at times, but I feel very peaceful with the decision!

Before I leave, I wanted to let you all know about a bloggy book club I'll be trying to participate in. Hosted by Boomama, we will be reading Beth Moore's "Get out of the Pit"...and although I still don't have the book in my hands yet, I am excited because our church is participating in a Live telecast event this Saturday...a seminar on this very subject!

They are still unsure if the book club will be a one-time event or continue...but come join us if you can!

Well...time to "get with the program" as my mom use to say...I'm sitting here in my PJs so I guess a part of me does, indeed, think this is some sort of holiday! So, time to pull myself out of this computer chair and get on with the day. I will try to visit you all later this afternoon and evening!
Have a wonderful week....God bless!

A Night at the Opera

First, I wanted to thank each of you who stopped by to comment on my little desperate plea concerning my blogging problems. I so appreciated it...and especially those of you who took the time to try and explain a possible solution. You guys are the best!
I never figured everything out, but did find out that there is shortcut to all those buttons and what-nots...I had been doing it the hard way beforehand. But I still have so much to learn!

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Tonight, I just wanted to share a true little story about one of my brushes with fame.
Or... a little more accurately, my husband's brush- literally- with fame.

We were having a whirlwind four-day weekend in fabulous New York City. New York City! You see, my husband was in the Navy, and they were having Fleet Week.
Back then, my newlywed husband's ship went out more often than I could count. Sometimes for just a few days...sometimes for weeks...and sometimes for the torturous long ones that lasted for months on end.

This time, however, he would only be gone a week or so, heading up to NYC, and many of the wives would be flying up from Virginia where we were stationed to join them.
My husband had lived in New York City a short time years before, but this was the first time my own Northwest, suburban feet would be touching the sidewalks of New York. And I was all a flutter!

We booked a hotel, and I flew- as planned- to meet him where we began our big attempt to pack in the whole island of Manhattan into four little days. We saw the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, the Met, ate at countless diners with New York "atmosphere"...and walked for miles to save money rather than hail too many cabs.
(Although the wild cab ride was a tourist attraction in and of itself!)
We had a romantic dinner in Little Italy, passing through Chinatown on tired feet...
and most memorably... we stood atop the World Trade Center.

That was a moment ingrained in my mind...looking down through the plated glass from so high it seemed as if I were in an airplane.
It was a moment I would relive with different clarity and sadness in the days following 911...to know that my husband and I actually stood at the top once before, just four years earlier....

However, during this whirlwind weekend in 1997, there were no known threats. We did everything we could to pack in as much fun and sightseeing as we possible could without crying "Uncle" to exhaustion.
We were able to buy discount tickets through his ship...and another perk of Navy life was that if hubby was in his sailor uniform, we would sometimes be escorted from the back of the long line to the front! Wow...we felt like royalty whenever this happened, let me tell you!

One of the evenings found us in line for seats at the Lincoln Center for a little dose of culture.
It was The Metropolitan Opera...and this time, we stood patiently within one of many very long lines of other cultured and dignified folk. As I was glancing around (ever so casually, mind you... .not like a tourist- really!) my eye caught someone in line that looked very familiar. Was it...could it be? Yes! It was Felix Unger, himself...Mr. Tony Randall, standing in line just like we were- well, in the line next to us, looking so...well, Tony Randall-ish.

Trying so hard not to be uncouth, I whispered to my husband, excitedly,
"Sweetie, you won't believe it! I see Tony Randall over there!" He starts to look around but I admonish,
"No, no! Don't look obvious! Just glance around casually..."
What would he do without me and my decorum, I just don't know...

He spotted him, and agreed excitedly but quietly that it was, indeed, thee Mr. Randall.
Standing with his very sweet, young wife whom I had seen on interviews...yep, here they were- on the town! Just like us! We had really arrived now!

"Why don't you go over and introduce yourself?" my husband teased. Um...no.
But he persisted..."Go on...just tell him you've watched him on the Odd Couple and in all the old movies..."
"No, I'm not going to bother him on his quiet evening out with his wife," I replied with dignity... as I continuously glanced back at our celebrity over and over again.

The next few minutes that followed are a little blurry in my memory. How we got from that point in the conversation to that which followed is still unclear. But minutes later, my normally reserved husband had walked over past the other line for one reason or another...and then just "happened" to cross back right in front of Mr. Randall...and of course he couldn't just barge right in front of him without sticking his hand out and hurriedly introducing himself to such royalty.
That would have been rude. So he did.
And Tony Randall shook his hand graciously right back...although he did look a little bewildered and somewhat relieved when my husband vanished back to my side as quickly as he had appeared. Poor Mr. Randall never knew what had hit him. Some "shake and run" tourist, no doubt.

I have had a few other brushes with celebrities over the course of my life, but this was one of my most memorable...no, not really because of who the celebrity was.
(Some of you under thirty may be even asking who this Tony Randall person is, anyway...)
But mostly because it was all a part of the whole surreal experience... taking in all the sights, sounds and smells of New York City.

And to think...I watched the Metropolitan Opera with Tony Randall and a sailor on leave...that just happened to be the guy I loved.

Stuff that legends- and memories- are made of!

A few random Uh-Ohs...with a major template headache

OK...I was messing around with some things last night and all my buttons and links disapeared! Yikes! Do I have to start from scratch now? Waaaah!


My seven year old has a the "croup". You know, that barky, raspy cough and a slight fever. There's been a thousand strains of bugs going around the church and homeschool group, so I guess I am thankful it's not one of the worse kinds. But we are stuck here on this cold, rainy day...
Is it spring yet?

I'm out of coffee beans.

Alright, enough whining. I actually have so much to be thankful for! It's just easier to remember them when I've had that cup of coffee...so I'm off to the drive-thru with some spare change I found! :)
Please say a little prayer for my croupy girl...and I'll be back later to try and fix my bare little blog!

Edited: Alright...I've been working and working on this...and now, every time I try to edit my template and add things back in, the whole blog comes out with all the words blended together! I'm pulling out my hair here...and that's after I've had my coffee! Help!!! If any of you have any answers I would surely be grateful!

Pure Romance...

Who says romance has to die?

Last night, my sweetheart brought me home roses...and had put one rose each in a vase for our two daughters. (This was their first time to receive a real rose from him and they were over the moon about it!) He also gave them teddies and candy...with a big box of chocolates for me.

Yes, he certainly knows the way to all of his girls' hearts!

But here's the best part...he took the girls to Awana last night and when he returned, we spent some time alone and slow-danced to this:


Wow.

I cannot tell you how long we had an evening to ourselves like that...and it was one of the best gifts he could have given me. Better than a thousand diamonds...truly.

My husband is a hard-working, car-fixing guy that on some days will just show his love by making sure the house and cars all work as they should. His love language is the act of service, and sometimes this means working all evening on cold cement under a vehicle and getting covered in grease.

But last night, he was Sir Gallahad to all of the ladies in his life... especially me.

Hopefully, he won't be too embarressed by my revealing this and bragging on him just a bit...(after all, he does read my blog!)
But sometimes a gal just has to tell the world when the man she loves does a bit of sweeping her off of her feet.

He's not always Cary Grant. He doesn't have time in the real world. But last night... he was.


Marriage is not a ritual or an end.
It is a long, intricate,
intimate dance together
and nothing matters more
than your own sense of balance
and your choice of partner.

- Amy Bloom -

First Valentines...

To the two special men in my life...past and present...



I received my very first Valentine right on my very first Valentine's Day... It was from my daddy. He had enclosed a letter to me, that years later I would read and re-read.
Sadly, somehow, this precious letter was lost.
But I still have the card...somewhere in one of my boxes of keepsakes, where I need to comb through, retreive- and place it in it's rightful place of honor.

My Dad was a far from perfect man...but he also had some wonderful qualities such as tenderness, compassion towards others and was fiercely protective of his family. He also loved God, and went home to be with Him almost 19 years ago.

I miss him... a lot. He was my very first Valentine.

Now, I watch my own girls adore their own daddy. If you saw this picture, you may already know that my four year old plans on marrying him when she grows up. But her plans will probably change. She will most likely fall in love someday and walk down the isle with another man- hopefully someone who loves God and cherishes her.

But just like a generation before, their daddy is the first man in their life...and they are blessed with someone with so many wonderful qualities...someone who takes time to be with them, encourage them, and teach them.

Most of all, to simply love them.

And there's just always that special place in our hearts for our very first
Valentine.


Happy
Valentine's Day!

Rainy days, Hearts and Stovepipe Hats

We had a very uneventful weekend...definately not blog-worthy at all.
This due, in part, that hard-working husband has been recently taking on cars to fix on the side to earn extra money.

All weekend, he toiled, bless his heart.

And all weekend, it rained and was chilly and outside was not a place I wanted to be.
So...except for church, we stayed inside. All weekend long.

Unless you or a child is sick, I don't recommend staying at home all weekend. We learned the hard way that cabin fever quickly insues. There is whining and and fussing all over the place...and I'm not talking about the kids!

Last Friday, however, was our home school group Valentine's Day party. The children all had a great time decorating their bags, and then dropping all their cards into the right ones,
afterwards. There were goodies to eat, followed by a rousing game of dance tag!







But we did do something fun Saturday morning. We made homemade cards for a few of our relatives. But because we have so many, we limited it to just a few...I recommended a couple of their aunties that don't happen to have romantic interest in their lives.
With so much emphasis on romance this time of year, I thought it would be nice to surprise these wonderful women with a different kind of love note this year.
And the girls worked very hard on each one, putting so much detail into their work! We cut, we pasted, we drew, and before we knew it, two hours had passed!

The rest of the weekend, however, wasn't so industrious for us, I'm sorry to say. I never thought I would be so happy for the homeschool week to start again!

Now, I'm so happy it's Monday...(hmmm, that's a phrase you don't hear every day!) We need to start our lessons and learn a little more about Mr. Abraham Lincoln since today's his actual birthday.
Yes, teachers and homeschool moms, time to brush up your history lessons!

And except for the fact that I had insominia last night and watched a tear-jerker movie until way past my bedtime, and am more or less going on fumes this morning, I think I can face the day- at least with my industrial strength mug of coffee close at hand.

So, this Valentine's week, I'm wishing all of you lots of love...and especially the love that only Jesus can bring. Whether you are alone or are blessed with romance, God's love is the only kind that can truly bring real fulfillment. So, I'll end with this well-known verse...

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son...that whosoever believeth in Him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life." John 3:16

The Open Window...Sharing the art with a story

Today I'm participating in the very first week of The Open Window, hosted by Kathleen Marie at Stranded in the Mountains. The purpose of this is to share our works of art or writings and to be able to view and read others, as well! Please stop by her place and join in...either to share your own, or share with us!

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For today's Open Window, I'll be sharing just a portion of a short story I wrote in the Fall of '05. I'm not sure if I'll be posting the ending yet or not...but here's a good share of it:

Family Cabin in the Woods

By Tammy

Jean closed the heavy cabin door behind her and welcomed the brisk air that greeted her cheeks and tossed at her hair almost playfully. The pleasant smell of chimney smoke wafted around her as her boots crunched over the fallen leaves. The dinner had been delicious, and now that the dishes all were done, everyone had settled into relaxed conversation. It seemed the perfect Thanksgiving…if only…

As she made her way down the trail, the late afternoon began to ease into evening, but the streams of sunlight behind the clouds still gave her plenty of daylight. As she began to walk at a quick and steady pace, she thought of the loving family within the cabin walls behind her. She was grateful that her brother, Conner, and his wife had included her in their family festivities this year. The cabin belonged to the parents of Conner’s wife, Marcie. Her folks had just purchased the large, cozy cabin that summer and had invited her and Conner, along with their three children for a special Thanksgiving weekend retreat. The wooded location was so peaceful, and since it was only an hour away from the Seattle, where she and the rest of the family lived, it was certainly ideal. Somehow, Jean had been invited, as well, though not directly a member of their branch of the clan. She suspected her brother had felt sorry for her and had put in a good word on her behalf, but however it came about, she was warmly welcomed now.

Strange how things work out, she thought wryly. Two years ago, on this very day, she sat with the man she thought was the love of her life as he placed an engagement ring upon her finger. She could still remember the joy she felt at that moment, and how she looked forward to their life together. They had been dating for almost two years, and though she had hoped the day would be coming soon, she still was completely taken by surprise when he knelt down beside her in her parents’ back yard, and proposed.

But then, just four months later, it was over. He had found someone new and had called everything off...just like that. The pain and betrayal of that time still caused her body to tense and tears to threaten. Perhaps the intensity had faded a bit over time. But the hurt was still there, nonetheless, waiting to creep back upon her whenever she least expected it.

Now her parents lived across the states in Arizona, where they had chosen to retire. Her father’s sprained ankle prevented them from returning to the northwest this Thanksgiving, but they did hope to travel by Christmas...according to their last e-mail. But the fact remained, Jean was very much alone. And worse, everyone seemed to know and take pity on her.

She sighed, and slowed down her pace a bit. Some people didn’t mind being alone, she mused. They even preferred it. But there was no denying that Jean was not cut out for solitude, and though she tried to put on a happy face, she knew everyone must sense her loneliness.

Blinking back the tears that burned the back of her eyes, she looked up at the towering trees against the now darkening skies.

“Dear Lord,” she whispered, “Help me not to dwell on the negative. I’m feeling so alone, even though you’ve provided me with warm family fellowship for Thanksgiving. I know I’m feeling sorry for myself…but help me not to feel so depressed. Help me…somehow…to be thankful.”

Jean didn’t feel an instant release, but she did sense God’s love- almost has if He was giving her a gently hug. Looking behind her, she realized, with a start, just how much ground she had covered and turned quickly around toward the cabin.

She watched the homey swirl of smoke as it danced out of the cabin chimney before her. She noticed a new car parked in the shadows with the others, and remembered more guests were supposed to be joining them today for the last night of the weekend. She couldn’t remember who, exactly, but she knew she had been on her solitary walk long enough, and didn’t want to appear rude.

A few minutes later, she opened up the cabin’s door to the smell of pumpkin pie and the sounds of children playing and adult laughter.

“You’re back!” exclaimed Marcie, as she peered from the kitchen with a grin, wiping her hands on her apron.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. Do you need help with anything?”

“No, I was just serving up dessert. Come here and meet my cousin, Mark.”

After hanging her coat on the hook, she obediently headed into the kitchen where a man with dark hair and eyes sat at the table, smiling radiantly at her in greeting. As Marcie made the introductions, he stood and took her hand.

Although she had never met him before, there was something strangely familiar about him. Marcie motioned for her to sit, and she placed a plate of pumpkin pie in front of her, handing one to her cousin, as well. Jean felt strangely shy all of a sudden. The rest of the clan seemed to be taking their dessert in the living area and she and Mark were left alone at the table.

He was the first to speak.

“Marcie was telling me that you manage a gift store outside of Seattle?”

“Yes, just for the past year. What about you?”

“I’m a veterinarian. I was living in Spokane but just transferred my practice to over here to Olympia. As of last month, in fact.”

“A veterinarian. That is a wonderful profession, I think. How long have you been doing it?”

“Ever since I got out of college. Ten years.”

She looked up and met his gaze, and she felt her heart quicken. Why did it seem she had somehow always known this man, even though they had only met a just a moment ago? The sensation made her feel strange and just a little giddy...but she wasn't going to let it show- not if she could help it.

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Sorry, folks...that's not "all she wrote", but it's all she posted!

Blessings!

My Rare Sunrise

I took this picture of a sunrise last week, on Groundhog's Day...and what makes it even more astounding is that I was actually up early enough to capture it! (Yes, dear husband...that's a sunrise and not set!)
You see, I have never been a morning person, and since we homeschool and are not rushing around before dawn, there hasn't been the need.
I just happened to wake up early that morning...and what a blessing to see the sun rising with almost a thundering intensity to greet me!

Tomorrow will probably not showcase a spectacular sunrise for me...for one thing, I am up way too late tonight! (Good thing our homeschool schedule isn't geared for earlybirds...)
And another thing, our weather today was that drizzly cold so common in the northwest during winter...you know, that "wet" cold that seems to seep through your coat, past your sweater and into your bones!)
But I can't complain...Sunday was sunny and so warm that robins were singing! (Too bad most everyone was holed up watching some sort of football game...) ;)

So, because I'm up until midnight for yet the second night in a row, this will be very short and sweet.

And because it's times like tomorrow when I have to go to the store and buy boxes of Valentines (for the homeschool group party on Friday) and help address 30 or so of them for each of my children, that I'm thankful I am not the mom in the Duggar family.
(Makes my fingers hurt at the very thought!)

A Happy Thursday to you all!

Wordless Wednesday...plus some (OK, a lot of ) words

Mandy...That 4 month old streeeeeeeetch...

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I wanted to add that today is the last day for nominations in the Hidden Treasure Blog Awards.
I think this is a wonderful thing because it just may help to spotlight a few wonderful posts- or blogs- that may have gone largely unnoticed.

I have nominated a few...Iand I hesitate to name them, because there are truly SO many wonderful posts and blogs I have read- and more out there that I haven't even discovered!

But here are a few of sort of hidden gems that I found:

Remembering Mama by Morning Glory for Motherhood

Remembering the Day by Grafted Branch for Life and Current Events

Recipe for Romance by This Ain't New York for Marriage

The Bride Goes Wild by ...well...me. ;) Family Doin's for Children and Family (I can't believe I gave a shameless plug for myself...would Susan Lucci do that? No, she has far more grace...)

Now as for the other three catagories, there are SO many blogs and posts that might fit into those three catagories, that I simply cannot narrow them down to one nomination at the moment. No, sirreebob, I cannot! (And I never use that word, by the way!)
So as you can see, I am going to have quite the time on voting day!

So, head on over to Everyday Mommy after digging through the hidden treasures everywhere!

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In closing, I wanted to thank everyone a few weeks ago for your thoughs, words of advice and prayers concerning whether or not to keep that lanky beast pictured above. I have prayed so long and hard for wisdom, as well as for Mandy to settle down a bit, and finally a decision came for me this past weekend. We're keeping her! More on this another post...

Blessings!

Lessons from Gammee

~On the coast...Gammee and Bapa...and me, peeking up from below!~


A few months back, I spoke about my "Gammee". I told her story from my perspective...yet, there is so much more to her life. So much more, I'm not even aware of...
that which remains a bit of a mystery to me. I'm not sure I will ever get all the answers, but I can learn from what I know.

I was blessed to have a grandmother that was all a grandmother should be. She doted on me, sewed and did incredible needlework, and made our favorite meals and baked goods for us when we came to visit. She worked hours at her sewing machine, to make me a hundred little doll clothes, even when her fingers were old and worn.

I was an only child, and my two half sisters were grown, so when I came along, I was able to glean all of her grandmotherly love and soak it up for myself.

It was she who first patiently tried to teach me to knit, but it just never took. Or so I thought. When someone came to our homeschool group this fall and taught the children knitting, my fingers started remembering something I had no idea I still retained. It was the oddest sensation.
And in a strange, wonderful way, it was as if a part of her was still alive again through my remembering.

But there were other dimensions to her life... before I came into the picture...


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Her name was Myrtle and she was born in the year 1900 (yes, 1900!) as one of about 11 children or so, in rustic Oklahoma.
(How I wish I had pictures of her as a child, but to this day, I haven't seen even one.)
She and her sisters and brothers spent many a day hunched over a cotton field, and when she did have time to play, her favorite doll was made of a corn husk. She told me facinating stories of looking out over her horizon and seeing as many as three tornados off in the distance. But so much about Myrtle's childhood shrouded for me...I wish I knew more.
But I do know that the work ethic she developed as a child stayed with her. She continued to be a hard worker all of her life. She took the art of cleaning and scrubbing 'til it hurt and made it her own.

It had always seemed strange to me, that my Gammee- this strong Christian woman- had once been married at age 15. She never liked to talk about this part of her life, but my dad had told me most of what he knew...

She married a young man (in his 20's, I think) who seemed to want nothing more than to dominate and control her.
He even drew a line in the land, telling her she was not allowed to cross over.
Knowing my grandmother as well as I did, I suspect that it was even worse than this. Divorce was not taken lightly in those days, and especially by those who were Christians. It's no wonder she never spoke of this dark time in her life.

Later, in her 20's, she married again. This was my real grandfather, and together they had only one child- my father. ~My dad, age 1, 1926~

They raised him during the Great Depression in Texas, when the dust storms blew over and times were so tough that at one point that they lived for awhile in a deserted train car.
She scrubbed floors on her hands and knees to help earn some money, never being too tired to keep what ever small place they made their home also as clean as whistle.
If they lived with dirt floors- those dirt floors were clean!

When my father was a very young man, she endured not only another heartbreak, but a brutal blow to her self-esteem when my grandfather left her for another woman. She was devistated. Thinking perhaps it was due to being overweight, she slimmed down completely...but from that point on, there seemed to be a permanent mark on her heart and confidence.

~My dad with his parents, 1942~

However, when she was in her fifties, happiness found her again, and she married once more.
My father, who originally wanted nothing to do with his dad for what he had done, began to forgive him...just in time- before my grandfather's death.
Shortly before he died, I posed with him on a rare visit.

~My grandfather and myself in 1965~

But it was Gammee's new husband that was my grandpa...Bapa. He was a little frail and walked with a cain from a stroke, but always nice to me and ready for a game of Rummy in their little trailer house. And I never once felt that their trailer house was cramped...it was always just cozy, warm and full of love.




But in spite of all of these wonderful memories, she was far from perfect. She carried with her the wounds of her past and deep insecurities. She could be critical of those (especially my mom) who didn't share her need for spotless cleaning.
But in spite of all of her flaws, she was a woman after God's own heart, who though scarred by a few pieces of time, marched on with a faith in Him that He would somehow see her through.


And He always did.

Hardly a day goes by that I don't think of her. And some day, when I get to Heaven, I think she will be one of the first to greet me after my dear Savior....
just like when I was little and arrived at her trailer house after the long drive...her arms outstretched and hurrying over, she'll exclaim, calling me by her nickname for me,

"My little Tamella..."

Until that day, the memories of her are warm and safe in my heart.
And I'll try not only to remember only how she was my special Gammee, but that there was another part of who she was. So many dimensions to her life and experiences helped to mold her into the person she became, as she strove make the best in hard times...and to trust God's unfailing love.