A Gorgeous day!

There are days like yesterday that linger on long after the sun has set.
A day that brings with it a serenity, a peacefulness, that settles into your heart and lingers in your soul.
I had a day like that yesterday. The sun was shining, the wind was calm, and the ocean waves were turning and crashing with brilliant white foam.
We explored tides pools, hiked the big sand hill, rolled back down the big sand hill, and found sand dollars.

Then we splurged on a great dinner at the Pelican Brewery and watched the remainder of the sun turn from yellow, to orange, to red, then pink, until the final shades of purple disappeared into night.

It was a gorgeous, glorious day.

Sunrise on my Cell Phone

Each new day begins with a sunrise. Some days I am lucky enough to see the beginnings of the new day and all the vibrant colors as they permeate the sky. Some days I don't.
Whether I get to witness the sun rising or not I know that a new day awaits.

Our household wakes and greets one another with the usual words,'good morning'. Most often those two words are uttered, mumbled, or grunted. But sometimes they are proclaimed cheerfully.

The same two words are shared at work as people arrive and settle in at their desks. 'Good Morning' can sometimes be heard clearly and with energy. Sometimes it is barely audible and filled with fatigue.

It interesting for me to guess how someone's night went by how they express their 'good morning'.

I suppose when I wish someone 'good morning', I am wishing people a good start to their day. I don't think to tell them 'good afternoon' or 'good evening' as the days wears on. I just assume the 'good morning' applies to the whole day from start to finish.

The start of a new day is like my chance for me to start over. It is my chance to do this day better than I did the previous day. It is my chance to not make as many mistakes, or at least to learn from the ones I made yesterday. It is my chance to listen better, to parent better, to be a better partner for my husband.

But most of all when I get up in the morning in time to see the sunrise in all its glory I am reminded to tell God 'good morning'. I am reminded to talk to God more in the afternoon, to listen to God more in the evening, and to pray from start to finish.


Sunsets .... I'll save for another time.

It's not fair!

Life's not fair!
It's not fair!
That's not fair!
You're not Fair!
Something's not fair!

I think most all of us have said one of those statements at one time in our lives. Or Perhaps we've said it many times.

When I was a kid I probably said it quite a bit more than I do as an adult. My parent's comment was always, "who ever told you that it would be fair?"

Now as a parent myself with many children who are always complaining to me that 'something' isn't fair, I have had to use my parents line quite often.
And I even have several lines of my own to respond with depending on the child and the situation.
But at this stage in my life I am not much of one to say or feel that 'something's' not fair.

At least until this morning.

I am getting older. And I am thankful to be getting older because it means I am still here.
But I never thought that I would have to look at myself every morning in the mirror and have to face both wrinkles and acne.

This is not fair!

I am a grandma now for pete's sake!

I shouldn't have to be sharing acne cream with my 13 year old daughter!
I never thought I'd be yelling at my teenage son trying to locate the astringent to clean my face.
And I certainly don't think that using acne cream followed by the old-age cream to moisturize and soften all the fine lines and wrinkles is fair!


But I suppose the only positive spin on this whole bizarre blog is that I now have another line to use on my kids the next time one of them wants something and I say, "no" and they shout, "It's not fair!"

A New Year

2007
The new year came in without a bang. It came in without fanfare. It came in without trumpets, or song, or fireworks or an evening with friends playing How to Host a Murder.

It just came in the quiet of the night with part of the family watching television and part of the family playing computer games and someone saying, "hey! Its midnight!"
It isn't that our New Year was bad, but it was different from the past 7 years.

It is funny (funny-odd, not funny-haha) how attached one gets to routine. The past 7 years we have gathered on New Years Eve with some close friends for an evening of fun. We plan ahead, choose a How to Host a Murder Theme, assign characters, work on costumes, and on New Years Eve gather for great food and beverages, and lots of laughter. It never mattered so much who won the game, or who was the murderer. What seemed to matter most was who had the best costume, or at least who looked the most ridiculous in their outfit.



Just 6 couples getting together to act silly. Most people would run from this sort of evening not wanting to embarrass themselves. But we embraced it wholeheartedly.

Early morning feedings

It has been a lot of years since I had to get up in the middle of the night for a 'feeding'.
I enjoyed my early mornings with Cale, my grandson. He always seemed so alert for 3:00 am.


Being an infant, Cale has no regard for time of day. If he is awake feeling rested and alert, then that is exactly how he is, rested and alert. In just a few short days, 3:00 am became 'my time' with him.
There were no distractions, no chores to be done, no television or radio, no other grandmas, aunts, uncles, or vistors to share the time with. Simply time together feeding each other. Me feeding Cale a bottle and Cale feeding my need to get to know my grandson.

It was a time I will treasure deep in my heart.

Oh Christmas Tree

Growing up I have vague memories of having a 'real' Christmas tree. Most of my life, from 4th grade and every year since, I have always had a 'fake' Christmas tree.
I am not sure why my parents decided to change from 'real' to 'fake' but as kids we didn't care.
A 'fake' tree meant we could put the tree up earlier in Advent and leave the lights on longer without worry or concern for the tree drying out and catching fire. As a child my main worry was if the tree caught fire then so would the presents underneath.

In my mind 'fake' was just fine.

When I got married and our family began our own traditions we went with the 'fake' tree as well because of allergic concerns for my husband.

So for the past 36 or so years it has been 'fake' all the way.

Until this year!

For the first time in our family tradition and my first time in nearly 4 decades we have a REAL Christmas tree in the house.

Since we have moved to Oregon, the Chritmas tree capital of the world (or at least it seems to be), it would be a shame to not get a 'real' tree this year. We talked about going out and cutting down our own tree. We learned all the important details such as, the appropriate tools to take to the Christmas tree farm, how to 'carry' your tree out of the field and not 'drag' it out so it doesn't get muddy, and even how to shake your tree out to free it from critters such as spiders, bugs and even bats.

Learning all this didn't scare me off from cutting my own tree, but I was happy to learn that my husband was content to purchase a tree from the young family down at the corner lot.

It isn't that I wasn't in the Christmas spirit. Nor was it that I didn't want to create great new family memories. It is just that I know my family.

I think cutting down our own tree appealed to my husband because it had a wonderful Norman Rockwell feel to it. This Rockwell vision of acquiring a Christmas tree was the experience my husband was hoping we could have as a family. I envisioned more of a Griswalds Christmas experience.

If you haven't seen Chevy Chase and the Griswald family then you won't understand. But if you know my husband and kids you are most likely laughing already.

Perhaps next year we will be up to the challenge of cutting our own tree and hauling it home, but for this year we are all very happy to have our first ever 'real' live tree!

Five days and a wake up

I am counting down the days.
It is five days and a wake up until I get to hold my grandson for the first time.
I have seen him on the iSight, and while this helps, it isn't the same. I can't smell the new baby smell or feel the soft new skin, or feel him snuggle up against my neck.
I need to be there in the flesh to experience the full wonder and joy of new life.

I found out I was a grandma while in Las Vegas. I left in the middle of a conference session to take the call.
I sat alone in hallway with tears of joy, excitement, and relief falling down my cheek. It was such a relief to hear my daughter had come through the C-section just fine and my new grandson was healthy.

I was longing to share the news with someone, but not just anyone.
I needed to share this kind of news with someone who would understand,
someone who knew me and my feelings of becoming a grandparent.
And at just that moment a dear friend found me. It could not have been better timing.

I don't believe it was a coincidence. It was meant to happen this way.

All this took place eight days ago. It feels as though more time has passed than eight days, but the calendar doesn't lie.
So looking ahead I have just five days and a wake up until I can travel back home to see, and touch, and smell all the joy surrounding the new life in our family.

Where did my life go?

Have you ever been in a place where nothing was familiar?
Have you ever found yourself questioning most everything around you?
Have you ever asked yourself Where in the hell did my life go?

A few times over my lifetime I have had days like this.
Yesterday was one of those days.

Thank God these kind of days don't come often, but when they do I feel confused, disoriented, frazzled and uncertain.
The kind of uncertain that makes me question, makes me wonder. And even leaves me wandering around as if in a fog and I can't find my way.

It is the kind of feeling that makes me want to go back to what is familiar, to what I know, to a place of confidence instead of confusion. To a place of familiarity instead of disorientation. To a place of determination instead of uncertainty. But I can't leave. This is where I am supposed to be now. This is my life and I have to learn to negotiate my way through it.

The last time I remember having a day like this was many years ago. Probably 14 years or so. And I negotiated my way through, learned much, and found myself in a great place.

So I can only proceed with the same assumption. I will negotiate my way through this. I will learn much. And I will find myself in a great place.

I just wish I knew how long it is going to take to get there.

Late night ramblings

I just couldn't sleep last night. I couldn't seem to put my mind to rest. I felt wide awake even after midnight which is unusual for me lately. I used the time to just reflect and pray.

Yesterday was a long day at my new job and at my old job. I tried to do my current work amongst many phone calls from my past work and friends who needing help or advice. Most of the day I felt torn between two lives. One I left and still miss and a new one I am beginning and feel uncertain of.

I arrived home in the evening, listened to the kids share (all at once and all together) about their day. Each one seemed to talk louder than the next in their effort to be heard over another sibling until it felt as if the whole house was yelling.

Whatever happened to waiting for your turn? I don't think I listened very well to any of the kids, but they all had their say.

I made dinner, minus dessert, while sorting through the school papers and mail. I did some dishes and picked up the house.
Just about the time I began feeling sorry for myself and the lack of an organized birthday celebration the phone rang and it was Sonny, then the phone rang and it was the McKelvey's singing, then the phone rang and it was Charlie, then the phone rang and it was Melissa.
I heard happy birthday from just the right amount of friends to outweigh the happy birthdays I missed from family.
So all in all a good birthday.

What did I miss?

We are nearly a third of the way through the month of November and I don't know where the days have gone. It seems like yesterday was the first of the month and the kids were still sorting out all their favorites candies collected from the night before.

Now the candy is gone and all that is left of our first Halloween in Oregon are a few Bit-O-Honey, a number of candy wrappers tossed under the couch and some photos still inside the digital camera.



I don't like this feeling of time passing so quickly. It seems as if I am missing something. One third of the month has gone by in what feels like a day or two. What did I miss?

Did I miss opportunities to go for walks with the kids?
Did I miss opportunities to just sit and listen instead of trying to impart parental wisdom?
Did I miss opportunities to appreciate my husband?
Did I miss opportunities to express to family and friends how important they are to me?

I am fairly certain that 'yes' is the answer to all those questions.

In 7 days my parents arrive and we will start planning our first Thanksgiving celebration in a new home.
And as I approach Thanksgiving I want to be conscious of each day. I will try not to let the days fly by without notice. I want to pay attention and take advantage of each and every opportunity to let those around me know how blessed I am to have them in my life.

What comes my way....

When I left Nebraska and moved to Oregon, I told myself that I was going to wait a year, I wanted to give myself 12 months, before getting too involved. I envisioned taking my time to sightsee, get familiar with the local area, and to make sure my kids and spouse were settled enough to manage at home without me here full time.

But a great opportunity popped up. I did not go looking for it, but I am glad it found its way to me.

Three weeks ago I interviewed for an AmeriCorp Vista Volunteer position with our local Habitat for Humanity. Even though I don't officially begin until next Wednesday I went to my first meeting last night. My first impression is that I am really going to enjoy working with these people for the next 12 months.

Our main goal between now and June 30, 2007 is to fundraise for and build a new two bedroom home for a single mother. I learned a lot about grants, fundraising, permits, deadlines, and construction delays in the Northwest rainy season from one short meeting.


Part of me will miss the lazy mornings around the house, the slow paced afternoons of searching for recipes and what to make for dinner, and the free evenings at home. But there is a bigger part of me that could get crazy with the lazy, slow paced, free time ALL the time.

This feels right. This challenges and excites me. This is something I would do for free (which is a good thing since the stipend is small). And... this is only for a year. This time next year I get to look be lazy, slow paced and free again until something else comes my way.

So Much to talk about...

My mind is spinning right now. There is so much to finish and prepare before I leave town tomorrow morning at 5 am.
I am heading back to Kearney to do a handful of things. But mostly I look forward to seeing our adult kids and hosting a baby shower for our oldest daughter. Boy, just the thought of me in charge of a baby shower is a bit frightening!
Melissa is due in 8 short weeks! I didn't think I would be excited to be a grandma, but I am.

Shortly after I get back home to Salem I will start my new job.
I will be the Resource Development Coordinator for the Mid-Willamette Valley Habitat for Humanity.
It is a one year position through the Americorp Vista. I am excited to venture into this new area and see what challenges lie ahead.

It seems strange to look back a few short weeks ago and see how things are so different in my life and the life of our family.
I can't begin to imagine what the next three weeks will hold for us.

Stomper or Swabby?

Yesterday we had a nearly perfect day. The weather was ideal for just sitting on the grass, enjoying wine and looking out over the valley, so we headed to the Willamette Valley Vineyards for the annual grape stomping competition. Along with the wine tasting we wanted to show our visiting family members some of the sights. What a surprise to also find great food, good music and a wide variety of fun people.


When the opportunity arose to actually enter the grape stomping competition Caroline's face lit up. "Mom, can we do it!" I said, "sure." The waiting list was quite long and I never thought we would actually get in. But we found ourselves called forward to stomp in the 3 o'clock heat.
Caroline decided to take on the roll of the stomper. The rules are to stomp for 3 full minutes without touching the sides of the barrell. The stomper is allowed to steady their self on the shoulders of the swabby. Since Caroline was the stomper, this made me the swabby. My roll was to make sure the drain hole did not get plugged and the grape juices flowed steady into the jug.

When time was called we filled a jug & a half of grape juice & pulp!



The competition was fun and fierce! Each team was striving to win the coveted prize - a trip for two to sunny California for the National competition and 2006 Grape Stomping Championship Title.

Being first timers, I never dreamt we'd be in the running, but it was close.
Two, dare I say gentlemen, experienced stompers beat us out of the semi-finals by 6 ounces. They held the record for the heats stomped on Sunday and were going on to face the winners of the Saturday heats. We didn't stick around for the finals so we don't know how close we were to winning, but we went home feeling proud of our effort and we sure did have fun!

Another little piece...

Well, they came yesterday. My new Oregon license plates arrived in the mail, the last of the vehicles to receive their new tags. This was just another little piece of the transition process. Gone are the DWNTWN Nebraska plates.



Now I am officially an Oregonian. I have the drivers license, the new tags and all I have left to do is register to vote. I have found the Oregon drivers to be incredibly gracious and courteous. I wonder how much of that was due to my out-of-state plates.




Now when I find myself in the wrong lane and need over at the last minute will people still let me in? Were they just being nice to the out-of-towner? I guess I will find out soon enough.

I am glad to have had the "I'm not from here" excuse the past few months as I have learned to negotiate a bigger city and the many unfamiliar winding streets and hills of Salem.

The difference a year makes

This time last year I found myself traveling a lot. I was swamped with arranging child care at home and coverage at work in the midst of classes and schedules filling up fast for both my kids and the youth I worked with so that I could go with my husband.






We went to Chicago








and traveled to Oregon




This year I find myself a stay at home mom.
For the first time in years, we eat home cooked meals nearly every night, my house is relatively clean, and the laundry is done. I have started two quilts and nearly finished one, reupohlstered two chairs, unboxed a plethera of belongings, as well as pulled out my art supplies, done some drawing and painting, volunteered a few times at Habitat for Humanity, and I have taken nearly two thousand digital photos all in the past few months. This is my attempt to stave off boredom.

Reflecting back on the past year I find that I am beginning to adjust. I don't think I have adjusted yet, but I am adjusting.

I came across some old photos of my former office while cleaning out the computer files. It was fun to think back to the experiences I had, the people I met, the wonderful staff I worked with. But I also thought about the struggles of working in ministry, the lack of catechists, dealing with the disgruntled parents and realized that there are some advantages to not working right now.


In looking back on where I have been in the past year I am better able to get some perspective on things. Perspective on work, on my children, on relationships, a different perspective on my life.

I don't have a clue what life will look like a year from now when I reflect back on it, but I hope that I still find that we are all in good health, loved by family and friends, that I am a grandma to a new grandchild (hopefully just one grandchild) and that perhaps I have found the time and money to go skydiving!

Fallen pride

I fell today. I fell down a couple of concrete steps, tore my jeans, skinned my knee, jammed my shoulder and wounded my pride.

Why is it so embarrassing to fall? Why is it when you fall down a couple of steps in an area with lots of business people and professional types you feel like such a loser? I wanted to just sit on my behind for a minute before picking myself up but instead hopped up quickly as if nothing happened hoping no one noticed.
And while I didn't hear anyone laughing hysterically at my clumsiness, there was no one to ask if I was okay either.

As I sit here still bothered by the pain in my swollen knee and aching shoulder, I wonder if I will tell my husband when he gets home later. Or will my wounded pride and embarrassed feeling keep this hidden inside. I also wonder if I tell him will he be the one to laugh or will he ask me if I am okay?

Then there is that quirky side of me that I get from my mom and is perpetuated by my husband that wonders ....

Was this some kind of sign or is there some hidden message in my clumsy, uncoordinated, inability to handle two simple concrete steps?

You see, I was leaving the parish office of St. Joseph's Church after picking up a job application. The parish is in need of a youth ministry coordinator for high school and middle school youth. A position that I know something about. Yet the one time I attended this parish it didn't seem to be my preference for a place to worship. So I am not sure how serious I am about this job opening. But I wanted more information.

After gathering the necessary paperwork, I shut the outer door and turned to close the iron gate that locked the parish staff securely in their office. I missed the first step, and fell.

Seeing this story retold here in the written page, I am no longering wondering, I am pretty sure my husband would laugh! He would prefer I not be employed anyway. And I am fairly certain he would consider this a sign from above that I shouldn't submit my application and resume'. :-)
Yes he would be laughing, and THEN he would ask me if I was okay.

I don't really see signs and get messages the way my mom does or the way my husband does. It is different for me.

I will admit that this incident will stick with me for a while, for at least as long as the pain does!

Learning...

We survived the first week of school for the kids. And have successfully ushered them off to begin their second week.

We have all experienced a roller coaster of emotions and feelings as supplies were purchased, new book bags were filled, clothes were laid out and the alarm clock began ringing at an inhumane early hour of the morning. The morning routine is still being experimented with in the effort to find the quickest route to and from 3 different schools in a city I am not familiar with yet.

The first couple of days were rocky for Alex and Caroline especially. But by Friday things were looking up.
Laura and Jacquie seem to be getting along better than the older ones, but I expected that.


Laura came home the first day with, "4 new friends already!"

Jacquie is doing okay but says, "I feel so Small! 8th Graders are mean."


Caroline for two days said, "I didn't talk to a single person. I don't know anyone."
And Alex said, "It was weird to be at an assembly and not know any of the school cheers, so I just sat there."

Alex at an all school assembly just sitting there? .....
Perhaps a good thing since it could keep him out of trouble, but still a little bit sad for me to hear.
All the kids are doing their best to adjust and so am I.

Salem has a number of Habitat for Humanity build sites and this year they have a home that is primarily being built by youth. I got an e-mail the other day asking if I would be interested in helping lead the youth on the build site on Saturdays. I'm not sure Jeff and the kids want me to be gone every Saturday, but I am exploring this to see what is involved.

So for the time being we are all learning. Learning to adjust, learning to make new friends, learning and listening for where we are being called.

Hummingbird

Shortly after I arrived here in Oregon we had a visit from our dear friends, Nick & Marsha. They live in the Seattle area and for many years in spite of the distance that separated us have remained close friends. They are such a gift in our lives. The long weekend that they were here they helped us unpack, build shelves, get settled, and of course take time to just sit and relax. Marsha wanted this new place to feel more homey for me and purchased flowers for my empty pots and bought a lovely hanging basket and hook for the porch.

What they don't know is they also gave us the gift of hummingbirds.

Every day between 9:30 and 10:00am we have a hummingbird that visits my hanging basket and the flowers on the porch. Today there was a pair of hummingbirds. I don't know what kind of plant is in the hanging basket. I had never seen one like it before in Kansas or Nebraska. Even though I don't know what it is called, I do know it does not like heat. Since Oregon is having a warmer summer than usual, I have worked hard to keep this plant alive. Partly because it is a symbol of the friendship we have with Nick and Marsha and partly because of the hummingbirds that enjoy it.

My plant isn't as full and as beautiful as it was when Marsha first bought it for me, but it is still a great gift to me and to the hummingbirds.

The Competitive Spirit

Competition: the act of competing; rivalry for supremacy, a prize.


I have just attempted to settle a Monopoly war between the girls. The yelling and crying could be heard throughout the house and most likely throughout the neighborhood!

The competitive spirit runs strong in our children and often is the cause of arguments and fights. I don't think any of our kids are afraid to take on a fight nor are they willing to back down once they are in the midst one.

I think they get this from their father who grew up in a very competitive family. If his family were to have a philosophy it would be, "if you are going to play, then play to win." It doesn't matter whether it is a card game, board game or general topics for discussion. I think they often take this philosophy to the extreme. In fact, when my husband was a young teen he even wrote to Milton Bradley for clarification on a Monopoly ruling that was the source of an argument he was having with his older sister. Of course, he was in the right and couldn't wait to point this out to her.

I, on the other hand, grew up in a family that had a vastly different philosophy. I would say it was more along the lines of, "You better play to have fun, and if it isn't fun for one then it isn't fun for anyone." I, myself, am non-confrontational and not very competitive. With one exception.... when I am playing against my husband.

My husband claims I turn everything with him into a competition. I don't understand this about myself. Why does it bother me to lose to the one I love? Why do I do react this way only with him? I don't have any answers.

So I have to admit the competitive spirit within our children must come from both of us, their parents.

But I think it is my job to help them strike a balance between the competitive drive to win and the desire to play for fun making sure everyone is having a good time.

After all, if it is just a game, shouldn't it be Fun?

26 years

Celebrating 26 years of marriage!

Sometimes it feels like yesterday and at other times I am very aware of each and every moment as if time has passed in slow motion.

We are blessed by 8 wonderful children, loving families, many good friends and so many good memories.

I am anxious to see what the next 26 years have in store for us!