Strawberries and Toast

Now you have to feel close to that child that loves the same things you do.  It is like - if you pour milk over cake and one of your children pours milk over cake then you kind of feel proud-like.  Incidentally, it gags me to eat soggy cake with frosting!  But soaking homemade buttered toast in a bowl of bottled strawberries and juice is another thing all together.  I grew up on strawberries and toast and so each harvest I make certain I have bottled an ample supply for the winter months.  Now I make certain that I have bottled strawberries for the son who loves them just like me.  But it isn't just the love of bottled strawberries that we share - we have a bond that is kind of like a sixth sense;  we understand each other.  I know why he is private and doesn't share every single thing about what is going on in his life or in his thoughts, why he would rather go without if he can't have the best, why he doesn't give the shirt off his back like his dad or brother do, loves to have money, work with sums and figures, be in charge, work hard and play hard, be totally loyal to those he feels close to, be content with life but always looking for a better, more efficient way to do things.  I know these things because he is just like me with a  few good character traits that he picked up from his dad and brother and sister.  He is my child that was, and is, best friends with his brother and best friends with his sister.  Is it normal to take your sister to the "Prom" just 'cause it would be so fun?  And another thing, is it possible to reach 6'4" by just eating cold cereal?  Apparently!  I crack up every time I remember the gray felt floppy hat he insisted on wearing the first three years of his life.  

I am endeared to each of my three children in different ways but that last baby - the one you finally conquered the nursing challenge with, the one everyone spoiled and loved and gave him everything he ever wanted, the one that hung around when the others were gone, the one who continues to honor and bless your life and check on you every few days, the one who loves strawberries and toast.  Yea, that one!

When You Wish Upon A Star

The first time the ship's horn blew out the notes to "When You Wish Upon a Star" I knew we were going to have a great time.  I grew up with the films, music and magic of Walt Disney.  However, I was a mother with three children by the first time I  actually went to Disneyland.    I was a little surprised to find out that it was just a theme park with rides like a carnival but it didn't take long to get absorbed into the vision of Walt Disney.  I often wonder if he even had a clue how immense his dream would become.

We decided that if we were going to go on a cruise for our birthdays then we might as well go on a Disney Cruise to the Bahamas.  Hence, the Bahama Mamas was conceived.  We started saving and planning a year in advance.  We asked our husband's to give us money instead of gifts for every holiday we could think of including Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, 4th of July, etc.  Half way through the cruise and out on the open sea we wished we could have wired home, "Send More Money!"  There were so many things that we wanted to do.

Snorkeling was on our to-do list along with bicycle riding on the islands, sitting on the shore with our toes in the sand, trips to the ship's spa, watching live Disney performances and movies on the big screen and indulging in delectable foods and tropical fruit smoothies.  We laughed 'til we cried, shared our fun with others and dropped into our cabin bed, exhausted, at the end of each day.  You ask, "Were there any kids on the cruise?"  "Yup...Us!  Mother and daughter!  It was a trip to remember".  

That's What It's All About

We bought the Mickey Mouse hats back in 2005 when our whole family traveled to Disneyland for the holidays.  We tucked the hats away for safe keeping until 2010 when my daughter and I decided that our annual birthday trip of shopping in the big city just wasn't full of enough adventure or fun.  We put pencil to paper and started saving money for our birthday-celebration flight to LA and Disneyland - just mother and daughter.  We landed, checked into the motel, donned our hats and suddenly we were the most popular two-some in Disneyland with our limited-edition hats.   We managed to scream our way through 11 total rides, 7 of them consecutive in the back seat of the Big Thunder Mountain train  and ended up with a count of 42 animals, 8 1/2 rights turns and an unknown bat count.  The next year we were just as popular with our hats but this time we broke our record on Big Thunder Mountain with 12 total rides with 8 in a row, adding 24 bats and a buzzard to our count.  I celebrated my actual birth day by courageously going on the Hollywood Tower just to impress all of my grandchildren.  My daughter's birthday celebration was culminated with knee surgery several months later to repair the damage of running from the exit of Thunder Mountain to the Entrance of Thunder Mountain 12 different times.  Come to think about it, maybe adding in the running to Indiana Jones, Space Mountain and the Matterhorn may have also contributed to the problem.

It has taken a year to earn the money for the ultimate birthday-celebration;  a Disneyland cruise for the Bahama Mamas!    But....it really isn't about the adventure, or trying to do something that is more impressive or more expensive - it is all about mother and daughter, two grown woman, friends, best friends.....laughing, hugging, sharing, splurging on cheesecake, sharing giant turkey legs, screaming and laughing, sharing lotion and lip salve, hair brush and razors and on the more spiritual side.....praying together before we head off each day, spending pillow-talk time at the motel, talking about our dreams, our challenges, and how much we love each other.  That's what it's all about!                  

Sometimes a memory.....

...will appear at the most unusual time;  take "klinkers" for example:  we were talking about the beautiful homes that were damaged when a dike broke from heavy rains and the muddy water followed the natural channel down to the river.  The homes were built on the flood plane under a level of trust that the  dike would hold, forever.  Then I remembered how the fruit cellar would flood each spring because the water table was so high and Mother would have to put on the knee-high rubber boots and step on cinder blocks to get to the jars of fruit.  Then my mind wandered up the cellar stairs to the back porch and then the furnace room, to the coal bin, remembering my dad shoveling coal each morning to feed the furnace and then the furnace itself.  The heavy cast iron door had a round wire handle and when open would make you reel with the blast of hot, flaming klinkers.  Then I remembered the marble maker (at least that is what we thought it was).  It was discovered by my brother in an old shed somewhere.  The two long metal handles came together at the end with two small round casings that fit together like a waffle maker.  Clay was dug up from a deep hole out in the garden, a little ball was formed and put in the mold.  I remember my brother placing the marble maker in the klinkers for a period of time and ending up with a nice little hard ball.  The only other thing that I know about klinkers is that they have to be discarded on a regular basis and can be used like gravel to fill holes in the farmyard and that you never want to walk on them in bare feet!

One, Two, Three, Four, Five!

Number One had a front door just waiting for me to paint fire-engine red.  It didn't matter that the stove only had one burner that worked, a vintage refrigerator and small freezer totally closed off with frost.  There was one tiny bath, two bedrooms, the one in the back was moist and a little moldy, and the one in the front had a twin bed covered with one double mattress.  In the winter, The oil stove barely gave out enough heat for the small living room and kitchen and had nothing left over for the rest of the house.  We saved money for our first electric blanket and donned knitted caps, warm stockings, flannel pajamas and left a small trickle of water running in the bathroom sink so the pipes wouldn't freeze.  Who would imagine that newlyweds could be so happy?

Number Two:  New, with the latest floor plan - two bedrooms - one a nursery - and moved in place by a diesel engine truck.  The trailer house sat within 10 feet of my sister's kitchen window.  I rocked my new baby in the living room, canned my first peaches on the stove, and tried to be happy with the advice, suggestions and corrections given by a well-meaning mother, father, sister and brother-in-law.  My husband could see that pursuing a teaching career in other town and making it on our own might be favorable to the security of farm life and living so close to family.

Number Three:  We lived on Tall Avenue - in a duplex, at the end of the most prestigious street in town.  We moved in around the locals - the best of the best and made life-time friends.   We learned valuable lessons, hung diapers out on the line, struggled with finances, and tried to serve wherever we could.

Number Four:  A new sub-division was developed, the bank provided the funding, we picked the kitchen cupboards and carpet, planted fruit trees, raspberry bushes, asparagus and a garden.  We welcomed a little  girl into our family and then another little boy.  We were a family of five and we filled our days with laughter, frustrations, accomplishments, disappointments, spilled milk and ended up with years of memories.

Number Five:  Do dreams really come true?  The minute we walked through the front door we knew!  It was the first of many sweet feelings that helped us with the struggle of moving so far away from friends and family.  We weren't born here but we got here as fast as we could!  Expanding here, taking down a wall there, adding on and taking off for years and years and years.  Each venture added a new sense of satisfaction and beauty to our home full of love.  Our number five has allowed untold opportunities for all of us - happy lives beyond our wildest dreams.        

Slice of Heaven

I don't know why it feels this way, but it makes me giddy to be here.  I have this passion to pick all of the wild sunflowers I see and decorate every room with mason jars and orange/yellow bouquets.  The morning air is crisp right before the sun peaks over the hills.  The sounds are simple; the rippling brook, the twittering of small birds, the bleat of a lamb and the occasional sound of a car in the distant valley below.

Back in the country kitchen the fly swatter stays handy but it is all a part of the charm.  I am inspired here.  My mind is full of paintings I would like to create and stories I would like to tell.  I find evidence of my former life when the days were carefree and I could jump and climb and explore without the stiffness of age.  I note Mother's pickle crock displayed high up on the shelf, the old metal canisters for flour and sugar in the corner and her small bedroom chair that she used to sit on, roll up her silk stockings and secure them to her garter belt each morning.  It makes me smile to think of my mother wearing a cotton dress each day to do her housework and prepare three meals a day for her dairy-farm husband and family.  Oh, how things have changed in the world.  Even in the later years, like many other women, Mother traded her stockings and dress for pants and comfy tops.

This place isn't mine, it belongs to another.....someone I love and who also loves nostalgia.  That is why I find little bits of my life here and there.  I have never been afraid to be alone here, even at night with all the scary sounds.  My heart is lifted as I sit on the porch, facing west, and experience another beautiful sunset.  I feel so lucky to look out into the meadow in the early morning and late evening and see something truly magnificent and special.  It is peaceful here, my spirit is renewed and I have an overwhelming desire to express gratitude to my Heavenly Father for allowing me to experience this wonderful slice of Heaven.  

Ten Little Toes

I can remember it - just like yesterday; the nurse, carrying a small, tightly-wrapped bundle into the hospital room....and handing that bundle to me....then walking out!  There I was, all alone with this little moving bundle!   I remember the labor pains, the excruciating hours but how did this happen? What was I thinking?    I know that my young husband was in the hospital somewhere but right then it was just me and this tiny, breathing, human being - a little gift from God - a little miracle.  I didn't know what to do!  After a little bit I decided that no one was coming back and no one was watching and so I slowly began to pull back the small receiving blanket until there they were.....ten little tiny toes....I counted them just to make certain.  He also had fuzzy hair on his ears (now that was a little bit of a concern because I remember reading in "Ripley's Believe It or Not" about humans with excessive body hair who lived out their lives in the traveling circus.)  However, I prevailed and discovered the most beautiful baby in the world - all 6 pounds of him.  And then it dawned on me that he belonged to us!  He changed our life forever, he is ours forever!

How can I articulate our time with him and his beautiful wife these past few weeks?  I can't!  I just know that like the scripture in the Third Epistle of John, Verse 4 "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth".   What a special gift and privilege to spend time, once again, with my my little ten-toed miracle....my first-born.....now a man....honoring and blessing our lives.