Avis La Fin

TRYING AGAIN

2012-01-29T07:03:00.000-08:00

I just saved my 2011 journal to an external hard drive--196 pages, single spaced, size 10 font. 117,000 words. My journal, since about 2007, has consisted of cutting and pasting the daily, often twice daily, emails I send to my sister, into a Word document. I don't include her responses. This endeavor has reaped a fairly accurate representation of my life each year. It's honest but not brutal; tender at times, touching, filled with words and feelings of frustration, anguish, soul-searching. As I read the journal, the tears flowed, laughter filled my house, and sweet memories flowed from every entry. What were near-fatal crises six months ago had become only a blip of the ups and downs of daily living. I also keep a Quotations file in my Word program. It's a collection of little poems, pithy sayings, words of wisdom I hear or see as I read, surf the web, or watch tv. No one will probably ever read my journals--they're really quite boring. In addition to my written collection, I have pictures...hundreds of pictures, which I've put onto my computer. Because I was new to organizing my pictures, I'd loaded literally hundreds of pictures three and four times. I've reduced my 377 files to 20. I'm now ready to launch into 2012.

We did manage to get through the holidays unscathed. Thanksgiving was a quiet affair. Vale was with us for Thanksgiving dinner; then his mom whisked him off to Vale Las Vegas, Baby to see Phantom of the Opera and Lion King. We had no such excitement--just a quiet weekend together. Christmas was a busy circus. Marie's family came. Our five grandchildren wanted only one thing for Christmas--snow. The two smaller children have never seen snow; the older three had only vague memories of playing in snow, since they've lived in Guam and then California for the last four years. On Christmas Day, it did snow and hail for FIVE MINUTES. Our nine year old grandson exclaimed, "It's snowing!! Heavenly Father does answer our prayers!" There was no snow during their entire visit. Poor babies. A good time was still had by all.

January brought snow. Finally!! We need the moisture. A week or so ago was a wintry, stormy week. A phenomenon occured in our area that I haven't seen in all the years we've lived here. Hundreds of trees in our area were broken and downed by the horrendous ice storm. Broken tree limbs and fallen trees clogged nearly every residential street in our town. In the picture taken from the window of my sewing room you can see the branches and twigs that literally covered the entire surface of our front yard. To the left is our neighbor's yard where a beautiful evergreen tree and an old-growth oak tree were downed by the ice.

Many of the smaller old oak trees in our yard were damaged as well. Since we're town dwellers we had only an 18 hour power outage, but many in our area were without power for as long as eight days!! Everyone is telling survivor stories. I was impressed by a group of the retired men in our neighborhood who came by on skis with shovels over their shoulders to help their neighbors dig themselves out of 4 feet of snow!
Tom has been confined to the house for a few weeks and is feeling like a caged animal!! He's kept himself busy, but he's itching to get outside and start the cleanup of the yard. I've managed to make a few quilts in this confining weather.

The top quilt is for two year old Mason. I feel that I will only be able to make one quilt for each of my grandchildren, so I've made them all so that they fit a standard double size bed. Mason's quilt is a strip quilt; the white panel is an old-fashioned train puffing out his name. I made two quilts that were quite similar--jeans/flannel quilts for my grandsons, Kahlil and Wyatt. When Vale saw their quilts, he asked if he could swap the red and blue jeans quilt I made for him some years ago with Wyatt's. Vale hadn't used his quilt because he'd always lived in California, and he'd outgrown it. So we made the swap. I revamped the quilt I'd started for Wyatt so it would fit a 6 foot plus young man. The Ivan quilt is for almost 7 year old Ivan. If you knew Ivan, you'd know how perfectly this bold, optimistic quilt fits him!
The red and green quilt was my gift to Tom for his december birthday. For the first time in 40 years of marriage, I was able to surprise Tom on his birthday. I went to visit my sister, explaining that I wanted to have some sister time before the weather got bad. We put the quilt top together in two days; Tom never suspected. The picture is of the quilt top; I'm still dong the hand-stitching on that quilt. I'm even doing my own design of Celtic Lover's Knots on the quilt. (For those who can't tell, I'm the sister on the left.)

Our stormy weather is gone--temporarily the weather man says. We're well and keeping ourselves busy and fulfilled. Hope all of you can say the same. Love, Mom
“When our wagon gets stuckin the mud, God is much more likely to assist the man who gets out to push thanthe man who merely raises his voice in prayer—no matter how eloquent theoration.” (Deiter F. Uchtdorf)

2011-10-02T11:58:00.000-07:00

This will be a long blog that I am compelled to write. This weekend is the 181st Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Salt Lake City. Conference, as it's experienced by members of the church, is a unique and wonderful custom. Conference has been held almost every October and April since the organization of the Church of Jesus Christ in 1830. Thousands of members flock to Salt Lake where there are five conference sessions to attend; often missionaries hold reunions with other returned missionaries, and many families plan family gatherings and reunions around Conference sessions. The majority of the membership, however, must be content with viewing Conference via closed wire broadcast, satellite, internet, or the radio, or published copies of the talks. Watching in our homes, we plan special snacks, gather blankets and comforters, and enjoy the novelty of wearing our casual clothes to "church." We love Conference and our leaders and cherish their words, are comforted by their messages.

I've been a member of the LDS Church for 57 years, and I have embraced it with all my heart, even though I was coerced into joining. My father grew up as a member but drifted away. However, he felt so guilty about his inactivity that he sent we three children to church. For several years, we merely sat on the back row, stoically obeying our father's orders until we met Althea Herring--Althea WHITBY Herring. She instantly recognized that we had to be Whitbys because all Whitbys look alike!! Althea would brook no resistance; we were to be baptized immediately. We didn't know we could argue with such an immovable force. We were baptized, in spite of being terrified of the deep water in the font.

I am who I am--good or bad--because I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ. I embrace the doctrines of the Church, which is very definitely a Christian Church, in spite of any bad press we've received on that subject. I try to live my life so that others will know that I am a practicing latter-day saint. Most of all, I have found within the sacred scriptures, strict tenets, and strong emphasis of family and service of the faith what I've needed to travel through the winding path of my life. I have, and have had, a good, blessed life, and this is not my swan song nor my last lament--I don't plan to leave this life any time soon. I don't feel that I've had nearly the afflictions, difficulties, nor tragedies that so many others have experienced in their lives, and I've sometimes wondered why not. For a Christian, afflications bring strength of character; Billy Graham once said that if a Christian doesn't have any problems, he'd better pray for some, so that he could be refined in the fire of affliction.

I realized today, while I was watching Conference, listening to our current president, Thomas S. Monson, that I never seem to see the trials of my life as afflictions when I'm going through them!! Once they're over and I have time to reflect on them, I think, "That was pretty tough, but it's over; we can go on." I feel this way because of my personal testimony of the power of faith and of prayer. The best example I can use is my experiences in dealing with my children and their struggles now that they are adults rearing their own families. When a child calls in crisis mode, I'm like the person who's been dog-paddling around in a quiet stream, only to realize that the rushing sound he hears is a nearby rapids that he's about to head into!! My child doesn't know it, but I'm paddling ninety miles an hour in a silent prayer that I may have the right answer or words of comfort at that very moment for their personal benefit. I have trust that a loving Father in Heaven is giving me a big shove, so that I can get back into the quiet stream.

The tradition of Conference that best explains what I've been trying to convey is that we believe in the existence of a modern, living prophet, who we accept as a mouthpiece of God. The first prophet I became acquainted with was David Oman McKay, the ninth President of the Church. To introduce President McKay, let me share this story:

I remember being in New York when President McKay returned from Europe. Arrangements had been made for pictures to be taken, but the regular photographer was unable to go, so in desperation the United Press picked their crime photographer--a man accustomed to the toughest type of work in New York. He went to the airport, stayed there two hours, and returned later from the dark room with a tremendous sheaf of pictures. He was supposed to take only two. His boss immediately chided him, "What in the world are you wasting time and all those photographic supplies for?"

The photographer replied very curtly, saying he would gladly pay for the extra materials, and they could even dock him for the extra time he took. It was obvious that he was very touchy about it. Several hours later the vice-president called him to his office, wanting to learn what happened. The crime photographer said, "When I was a little boy, my mother used to read to me out of the Old Testament, and all my life I have wondered what a prophet of Good must really look like. Well, today I found one."

I accepted David O. McKay as a prophet, and his words as prophetic, as I have accepted all other presidents and prophets up to this day. Just a few hours ago, I listened to the words of our current prophet, Thomas S. Monson. His talk was riveting, challenging, powerful. His sweet counsel on this day has moved me to share my testimony in this blog. Thank you for listening. Love, Mom

SEPTEMBER ENDEAVORS

2011-09-18T16:43:00.000-07:00

Remember my blog about that Bucket List? I'm not doing very well on it. I had hoped to do a blog every Sunday so that I could chronicle events, projects, etc. "Hoped" is the operative word. After all, I'm a retiree...no real agenda or schedule. I certainly have plenty of subject matter! My challenge this week has been attempting to post pictures to the blog!! I think I have it now.

We've had a busy September. Lots of company. Here are Darla and Vale. Don't they look overjoyed to pose for yet another picture? Darla says she hasn't been this skinny since junior high, and has never been blonde, so we're showing her off. Vale has never been this tall, nor a 15 year old, so here he is.

Tom is overjoyed to have warm weather and a new calling at church. He is now the early morning Seminary teacher. The course of study this year is Old Testament, and his class consists of seven students--6 boys and 1 girl. Like most first-year teachers, he's spent an inordinate amount of time in preparation; in spite of the fact that he knows the Old Testament upside down and backwards. He has one mentally challenged student who stormily informed Tom that he would not come to Seminary...well...his mom was making him come, but he'd only be there for the first day. Then, he saw the spread of muffins, goodies, fruit, and juice that Tom lays out every day, and he's been a 100% attendee! The second Tom gets home from Seminary, he pulls on his work clothes and heads outside. His latest project is the back porch.

The floor has since been painted. Now, he's setting in his store of wood for the winter.

His next project is to cover up this unsightly space underneath the new deck.

Seminary has brought a change for me. I've inherited the dog duties. From 4am to 8, I'm Astro's mother. He never leaves my side: he sleeps next me, curls up under the computer table, or follows me everywhere. He'd like to join me in the bathroom, but I have to draw the line somewhere. We've become walking companions as well. In walking, I'm not as exciting as Dad; I won't follow him along the road, so he can "herd" the car; I won't allow catching helpless rabbits, and I do not allow unleash time, but I sing for him, and I talk to him and myself...what more could he want? I love the little marina where we walk. It's the site of one of Lewis and Clark's campsites on their trip down the Columbia and is a launch site for the Yakama Nation tribal fishing boats.

This has been a busy month in my calling at church. Our church family is aging, and I've been called on a little more often to provide comfort, assistance, and meals for those who are ailing in some way or another.

Of course, I'm still quilting. The name quilt isfor Ivan. The star quilt is for Kahlil...I think. Not sure yet.

Life is full and rewarding around here, and we wouldn't have it any other way. "There's only 1 thing 2 do, 3 words 4 you; 1 way to say those 4 words, so that's what I'll do: I LOVE YOU!"

YOU'VE GOT TO ACCEN--TU--ATE THE POS--I--TIVE

2011-09-04T08:18:00.000-07:00

E-LIM-IN-ATE THE NEGATIVE, AND

AND DON'T MESS WITH MR. IN-BETWEEN!!

LOVE, MOM

"Dr. Seuss" Trees

2011-08-28T07:09:00.000-07:00

I have a perch which I use often--the view out my kitchen nook window!! Since we built the house in 1975, I've stood at the window surveying our kingdom while conversing on the phone. In our front lawn are 22 of these ancient oak trees. Grand old gentlemen who've seen a lot as they've stood here on top of Strawberry Mountain protecting our little Camelot.

Some years ago, our neighbor across the street asked if we would allow him to have our trees trimmed as they were obstructing his view of Mt. Hood. Sure, if he wanted to spend that kind of money. We listened carefully as the tree trimmer explained what he'd do to the trees--sounded reasonable--maybe even good for the old boys. The tree trimmer never came back. A year later, we came home from work to a scene right out of a Dr. Seuss book. Our goreous trees had been nearly hacked to pieces!! Tragically, the tree trimmer had died, and our neighbor had hired an unemployed wood cutter to do the job. We were devastated, and there was nothing we could do because we'd given our consent a year earlier!! The Kennedy oak trees became the topic of much discussion around the faculty room, break room, and church parlor among our friends. We should sue!! The trees would never come back to their pristine glory!! The horticulture teacher brought droves of students by to see the horrible slaughter. Get over it!! Move on!! was the rally cry of other neighbors. Leave them alone. Mother Nature will take care of them. Which, of course, she did! Now, the trees create an overhang along the driveway and front yard, which gives us privacy and quiet.

Notice the absence of our bird and squirrel friends. After paying nearly $200 to replace chewed up wiring and hoses in our two vehicles, we had to reluctantly empty our bird and squirrel feeders.

I can't get a good picture of this view of our backyard. The trees here have grown so large that, from certain places at our window and on our sundeck, they obstruct our view of Mt. Hood. We may need to call in a tree trimmer, but we'll check his credentials before we allow him at the trees!!

The county assessor came by a month or so ago, puzzled by an assessment report he'd found from years ago. "It says here that you have a view of the river," he says, scratching his head. "I just don't see how you can." I explain that we did have a view of the Columbia River--before the Dr. Seuss tree incident.....

I love my mountain home and invite anyone who wants to see the old gents who kicked Dr. Seuss in the you-know-what to come on in!! We're mostly home...on the deck...watching the trees.
Love from Mom

All of us could take a lesson from the weather; it pays no attention to criticism." (Anon)

WHAT WILL BE THEIR MEMORIES?

2011-08-21T04:40:00.000-07:00

In the last few weeks, I've had many opportunities to ponder my fate!! It began with my 69th birthday in July. On that day, I had a memory flash to the day my parents signed the mortgage for their first home. The year was 1954, and we were gathered in our brand new living room. They marveled that, through regular payments, the house would be theirs in 1984. We girls would be 42. I remember trying to imagine what I would look like at 42...old, certainly, wrinkled, probably. Now I was 69--older than my father had been when he died, and I looked just like I'd imagined I would look at 42. Old age is a strange phenomenon in one's life; it's retrospective, frightening really, and certainly not for the faint-of-heart or sissies!!

A week or so after my birthday brooding on my advanced age, I visited with my mother-in-law, who's 96. She showed me 3 or 4 small journals which she calls her quote books. It's a hobby that Peggy and I have in common--we love to collect quotations, poems, song lyrics. Hers are neatly written in small journals, and she includes her own poetry and personal thoughts with her gleanings from the writings of others. Mine? They're in an online journal, old three-ring binders several, on the backs of envelopes, etc.

Peggy held her little journals tightly to her tiny bosom and said tearfully, "These are so dear to me, but I know you kids will have no use for them and throw them away when I'm gone." Shortly afterward, I went for my annual health check-up and mentioned to my doctor that I was experiencing some shortness of breath lately...my oh my!! This statement prompted a series of heart stress tests, ending in a recent day in Emanual Hospital's ICVR unit for an angiogram. Wow!! Although I didn't want to think about it, my mind kept reverting to panic mode! What if there's really something wrong? What if I have a bad heart? What legacy have I left for my posterity? What will be their memories of me? Will those "things" which are dear to me be thrown out after I'm gone? (Angiogram revealed the need for a change of medication and weight loss...Whew...I have a little time). Tomorrow, I'm going to visit a friend my age who thinks that she is dying--a fact her doctor is hiding from her she says. She knows he isn't telling her because he asked her for a hug. She wants to put her affairs in order and asked me to help her write down her testimony of Jesus Christ for her children. So here I am, on a warm, warm Sunday morning contemplating how much time I have to get my affairs in order. Let's see, there's:

1. My genealogy: Binders full of pictures, memorabelia, documentation, etc. of hundreds of ancestors whom I've found through my years of genealogical research. How I love these wonderful people and treasure what I know of them and the small mementos I have of many of them! But, my family will never know them as I do unless I bring this chaos to order!!

2. Pictures: Boxes and boxes and buckets and computer files of pictures--to be organized, filed, discarded, labeled.....3. Personal history to write. I do have that started; I got an A on an autobiography I wrote for a personal history writing class that I wrote in 1964. And my journals, personal writing, and novel gathered up..

4. The Grandchildren Quilt Project. I'm sending quilt #11 out tomorrow. Only 6 more to go. Then, I move on to the Children Quilt Project. And then....

Hmm...the tasks before me sound delicious...fun to do...Maybe this winter?? Because, right now there's:

1. This little guy...Yuri...our ten pound seventeenth grandchild. He's the love child of our son, Tom. With that little Buddha-tummy, Yuri needs a warm, cuddly afghan to keep him warm this winter.

2. And this guy...Vale, who returns August 29th, to the elite Kennedy Boarding School to begin his freshman year of high school.

3. And these guys, who seem to think they need three meals a day and a clean house...

Maybe I can work it all in...the present and the future.....before that hug from my doctor comes.

Contemplatively, Mom

Because two people fell in love

2011-08-01T14:38:00.001-07:00

Because two people fell in love, acquired six children, then married most of them off, those two people have 16 grandchildren, 2 great-grandchildren, some in-laws, grey hair and old-age liver spots. Because they fell in love with all those relatives, they have the insane desire every year or so, to bring them all together in a confined area for a few days of togetherness and......

BEACH BUMMING

PLAYING:

TALKING:

ELECTRONIC-ING:

POSING:

TALENT SHOWING:

GOOD-BYE-ING:

We missed TJ, Tobin and family, DeAnne, Kevin and Debbie, Steve and Michelle, and Tom and family, but in a year or two, we two people will have the same urges, and we might all come to YOUR house! Thanks, Marie, for being such a good hostess!!

Love to All. Mom

2011-07-03T06:35:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure our current activity is an addiction, but it's pretty close. We're addicted to two television shows: The Generations Project hosted by BYUTV and Who Do You Think You Are on NBC. Both shows have, basically, the same theme; they're about roots, genealogy, ancestry. The NBC show features family origins of celebrities; BYU's stars are every day Joes, all of whom are seeking the answers to their own life puzzles through their family history. In both shows, the conclusion most often drawn is that we are each the sum of all of the generations of people who have gone before us! I, like so many inexperienced amateur genealogists, wanted to find a link that would show that we were related to famous people!! No such luck. I've found a moonshiner, a polygamist, a federal prisoner, and a ne'er-do-well Indian scout, but no blue blood! Tom's maternal line is filled to the brim with blue blood, however. I've begun more and more to link personalities, traits, hobbies, etc. of current family members to their ancestors.

Take, for instance, Tom's enjoyment and crafting of the rock wall around our home! It is a dry-stack wall which he's built around our property. Hours spent at the quarry selecting, loading, and hauling were hours of enjoyment for Tom! Of Tom's second great grand uncle, William Hamilton, it is said: "Mr. Hamilton was a lowland Scotsman...His stone residence was an eye-opener to his generation at East Lake [Nova Scotia] whilst his neat, skillful and enduring stone fences are subjects of commendatary remark to this day. His labours at the Lake, even at this distance of time, give evidence of care, skill, taste, neatness and intelligent industry."

Disgruntled with your nose, ears, frizzy hair, etc, etc? Instead of blaming your parents, you might want to look even further back--generations!! After a long search, I came across this fellow. His surname is Whitby; he lived in England, and he is not directly related to anyone in my Whitby line. Notice any resemblance to my dad, whose picture is in my previous post, or my grandson, TJ? The old saw, "He has his grandpa's chin could as well be said, "He has his tenth great-grandpa's this and that."

As well as looks and personality traits, our ancestors were products of their times as well as their environments. Our daughter, Marie, is an avid couponer and food storage buff. In every cabinet, under most beds in her house, everywhere there's any space, Marie has food stored for that inevitable rainy day. My mother was in a nursing home for several years before her death. As we cleared out her dresser, we found it full of empty canning jars. Her caregiver winked and said, "She said that when she got well enough, she needed to get started on her winter canning!"

This blog doesn't do justice to the thoughts I have about this subject. In a few days, I'll turn 60++++, and I'm definitely asking, "What have I done with my life? What must I still do?" I am the product of all generations who've gone before me, and, for good or bad, there will be parts of me in all generations who follow me. Sobering thought on this hot July morning. I yam what I yam, according to the Popeye philosophy, but I want to be the best of what I yam!! Genealogy and family history research is a fun, addictive, and relatively safe hobby that may answer for us that question: Who do You Think You Are?

Love to one and all!! Mom

On Fatherhood

2011-06-19T05:02:00.000-07:00

I find it difficult to write about Father's Day and one's father without writing in cliches and over-writing a tribute. My father, Grant L. Whitby, has been gone for 24 years, almost to the day. He died alone in his grubby little apartment. I've always felt sad, and a bit guilty, when I think of the event because no family with him when he passed. He had been lonely for a long time. It's easy to say that his loneliness had been brought on by his own poor choices, but now that I'm older than he was when he died, and I'm living with some of my poor choices, health-wise, I have a different view of my dad's life. Daddy was a product of the Great Depression, of a hard-scrabble farm life in southern Idaho, of an elderly father, and a strict religious upbringing. I think of him as the epitome of the old war song: "How Ya Gonna Keep 'Em Down on the Farm (After They've Seen Paree)?" Leaving his home to work in the CCC's, Daddy returned very rarely usually to attend the funerals of his mother and brother. He was of a generation that sometimes thought a real man didn't cry nor publically embrace or show emotion to his children. He indulged in the kind of life he'd been forbidden: alcohol, tobacco, gambling, etc. He later paid the price of his indulgence: a divorce, a somewhat "uncomfortable" relationship with his children, bankruptcy, and alienation from some of his friends. The death of our brother, Joe, in Viet nam in 1965 was a pivotal time for Daddy. After floating around in the depths of despair, he finally got a grip!! He stopped drinking and joined AA, and he saved enough money to lease his own barber shop. Tragically, he suffered a debilitating stroke, and AA meetings and companionship with his friends from AA became his way of life. He drove an old, "beater" car one handed and thought nothing of heading out on icy roads to go to a meeting or to mentor an AA friend in need.

In spite of his frailties/weaknesses, he was a good father. From my dad, I learned the importance of an education. Not necessarily a college education, that was my mom's mantra, but being self-educated, a lifelong learner. My father never finished school, but he read constantly and loved to discuss/argue about almost any topic. He especially loved and devoured any college textbooks I brought home. I also gained my testimony of the truthfulness of the doctrinal teachings of the Mormon Church from my dad. He was what is called a Jack Mormon in church parlance. He believed in the church, had a strong testimony of its doctrine and principles but kept himself alienated from church attendance and participation because of his personal habits. He constantly challenged my testimony by asking me hard doctrinal questions and wanting "proof." In stubbornly seeking proof for my dad, through scripture study and fervent prayer, I gained my own strong testimony. My dad had some hobbies and interests which would show themselves occasionally. He kept our lawn beautifully mowed and manicured. When we moved into our home in about 1954, Daddy fought sagebrush and sand to put in a lawn, which he had to re-seed three times. My mother had a huge plant in the front yard which had overtaken the view from the window, so she wanted it taken down. Daddy attacked it with zest for weeks, finally having to use a small saw on the huge root. Years later, we found out that the plant was a poisonous variety called a castor bean plant. One winter, he was out of work for the winter and driving my mom crazy, so she taught him to crochet. He made a number of afghans, vests, and doilies. He also loved to play the banjo and the harmonica. Just recently, I received this wonderful picture of my grandson, following in his great-grandpa's footsteps! My dad would have been so thrilled. I appreciate, now, my father's life...knowing now that he had to work very, very hard to conquer his personal demons. Particularly, knowing that, in the end, he was able to do so. In all of the turmoil and chaos of my early years, I never doubted my father's love for me. He was very proud of his children. My brother served honorably and unselfishly in the Marine Corps, and my sister and I were school teachers, wives, mothers, of which he was very proud and would brag about to everyone.
This blog is intended to be a small tribute to my dad, but I can't really NOT comment, on Father's Day about the father of my children! My husband is, not at all, the kind of father I had. In trying to sum up what kind of father he is, I think it's safe to say that his mantra is: If the kids need this to help them grow and be happy and safe and secure, we'll sacrifice whatever we have to make it happen. In summing up what my children think of their father, I would repeat what is written on almost every letter, note, phone call, Tom receives: Throughout my life, you have always been there for me, Dad. DITTO FROM ME.

Love and hugs and warm thoughts on this cloudy summer morning.

WHO'D HAVE THOUGHT

2011-06-12T05:13:00.000-07:00

The world wide web is filled with millions of commentaries and thoughts about marriage. But, truly, the loudest comment on marriage is longevity, so I think I have a right to make a few comments since I've been married forty years today. I fell in love with Tom the minute I saw him peek through my living room window as he rang my doorbell for the first time forty years ago. I'm not so sure that it was so much that I loved him; it was that he loved me, treated me as if I were the most important person in the world from our first meeting. I was 28 years old, and I hadn't had any man take me seriously, so I was in love with love!! Our first date was attendance at a BYU educational seminar in Tacoma, followed by a walk through Point Defiance Park in Tacoma, a movie, and root beer floats while we sat in Doug's T-bird convertible. We didn't discuss marriage; I don't even know what we discussed, but neither of us can remember the movie we saw. When he'd gone home, I called my best friend to share details and my conviction that we'd marry even though he hadn't asked. The next day, my "best" friend met Tom in the hallway of the church. I wasn't there. Knowing my comments on marriage were merely fantasies, she said, sweetly, "I understand congratulations are in order." Ugh...Tom, taken aback, thought to himself, "If it is within my power, I will never let another person hurt Julie again." And, he never has!!
I was lectured by friends at first; he had lots of strikes against him:

1. He was "older." 32 to be exact.

2. He'd been married before. To a strikingly beautiful woman

3. He had a son. An eight year old living with his mom in Texas.

4. He was broke. Boy was he broke!!

5. He was inactive in the church. He was working three jobs at the time but quit one so he could teach a Sunday School class.

I didn't care about any of that!! I was in love. I drove my mom and sister absolutely crazy with frequent phone calls extolling the virtues of this wonderful man. We met in March and were married in June. 40 years ago in the Idaho Falls temple of the Mormon Church.

I am still in love with love, and, coincidentally with this fine, upright, good man who

works every day to make sure that I will not be hurt. We're best friends, bosom buddies, soul mates...all the cliches in the book. We're so accustomed to each other that we complete one another's sentences, and, more than not, assume that what we like or think is what he/she likes or thinks. Here's to another forty years and on into eternity.

THORRY, MARIE

2011-06-05T04:33:00.000-07:00

In my last post, I left out some of my children!! In defense of my blub, I was

trying too hard to get the blog done before church. So....I want, first and foremost, to correct that omission. We have a "daughter" and son-in-law who are very dear to us. They live in Saudi Arabia until Kevin's retirement which is soon; then they'll be in Arizona. Marie and her family are in Oxnard, California and are filling in their days until their Daddy returns from deployment.

My omission brought me a bit of teasing from Marie, it also brought back memories of the feelings that are so often brought to the surface when we are left out, ignored, or unappreciated. Most often, such incidents are not at all intentional, and some are hilarious to recall when we've recovered enough to accept them for what they really are, but they still leave an impression. Steve brought into the family an expression which makes the distinction between sins of commission--I meant to hurt you by my actions, and sins of omission--unintentional slights or slights meant to tease. He had been teasing Marie about a new boyfriend, and, when I demanded that he apologize, he said, "Thorry, Marie." Thorry is our code word for I'm only teasing or that wasn't intentional. On Mother's Day, I listened to a one-sided conversation between Tom and his mother. Grandma was gushing about a wonderful poem which our daughter, Susan, had written for her, sent in her card for Mother's Day. I can't describe the jealousy that pricked my heart, thinking that Susan had written a poem for her grandmother and not for me. Trying to hide my wounded pride, I wrote to Susan, asking for a copy of the poem. Susan's response was: "She must have read you the poem that was in the card. I didn't write it, but it was beautiful. It reminded me of the bonds between us women, that's why I chose the card for her." So much for feelings of anger. (PS. I hope no one will EVER tell Grandma Kennedy of this; she still thinks Susan wrote the poem in the card. Please, please don't ever tell her, even in jest!) On another occasion, years ago, a case of mistaken identity caused some consternation for one of my friends. She called to ask me for a private conversation, and I could tell that she was very upset. She explained how much she loved me, wouldn't hurt me for anything in the world, etc., etc. BUT, she could no longer live with the anger she was feeling towards me and wanted to get her animosity off her chest. I was dumbstruck!! What on earth was she talking about? They had been in the Tri-Cities...in a Costco store, and she'd seen me with....my new man!! After all I'd said about my deep and abiding love for Tom, how could I be carrying on an affair??!! You guessed it...she had seen my twin sister and her husband!! Oh the memories!!

Life is busy in our corner of the world. Tom is back in his element. He calls my sewing room my sanctuary, and his sanctuary is the yard, the woods, and his daily "stuff" outside. He's now free to roam in his sanctuary, and he couldn't be happier. Vale's days as an eighth grader are numbered: seven to be exact. This weekend, we celebrated Springfest, our community's local event. Notice Vale tooting his clarinet? He's the tallest kid in the band, which is a 5-8th grade group, and he's tallest in the school. He's helped his height along with some innersoles he found--two in each shoe--but who's telling? He was voted the Eighth Grader with the Best Hair!! Life isn't much fun if there aren't a few thorries to spice it up!! Love to All. Mom

I'll Try Again

2011-06-02T07:18:00.000-07:00

I've neglected my blog for five months and haven't really missed the experience. Except that an inner voice has been nagging at me to do some writing and blogging. After all, my blogs and my daily emails to my twin sister are my journal. They are the written legacy that I'll leave behind for my posterity to peruse to get a glimpse of who I was/am. Neither my blogs nor my daily emails are great literature full of profound thoughts. Today's email topic, for instance, was a riveting account of the difficulty I'm having picking the colors for a lap quilt for my mother-in-law. So here goes...
I left the blogger world when Tom had arthroscopic surgery on his right shoulder in February. We're new to the world of illnesses and injuries, so we weren't quite prepared for all that recovery entails. Adding to the woe was an injury he suffered two days after surgery...a fall in which he landed on his left shoulder!! My most perilous times during the recovery revolved around the fact that I had to be the family chauffeur...in the snow...in Tom's beloved pickup....Ugh. The upside of this period is that it's over, and that Tom spent time to rest, read, and to work on his personal history. He also discovered two wonderful television series: Who Do You Think You Are and The Generations Project (BYU tv..Monday nights) which are about genealogy and tracing ones roots, so we're setting his computer up so he can do just that.

Vale's had a good winter. Besides his clarinet, Vale has taken up the acoustic and electric guitar and is participating in jazz band. Basketball was the highlight of his winter. I've forgotten now their team's win/loss record, but they did well. Low grades kept Vale out of track, but he's gearing up now for high school football. He will be staying with us for his high school years, which, seems to us, to be a good decision. A small school affords many more opportunities to participate in sports, music productions, and special classes. Vale's especially excited about a Robotics program at Columbia High.

I'm still doing what Vale calls "Grandma things." I've been quilting, doing genealogy, and working a small part-time job as a data entry operator. Spiritually, I think I've really re-inforced my belief in the value of constant, daily prayer, even in the most mundane aspects of my life. There's comfort in prayer, peace, calm. I'm a facebook addict, and I'm pleasantly surprised by the number of prayer requests made on facebook. I seem to have opportunities all day long to pray for someone else, a complete stranger, often a nameless person. It's nice to know that there are many, all over the globe, who believe in the power of a heartfelt prayer to a loving Heavenly Father.

A quilt for Kobe...Brenna's is underway.

We're grateful for our sweet family.

Mark and his daughters.

The new Darla after a 145 pound weight loss

Susan's family is growing up.

Steve (upper left) doing manuvers

Tom on his way back to Maine to see his boys.

All is well here. The Columbia River is rising, but we're high and dry on Strawberry Mountain. Love to All, Mom

2011-01-16T07:27:00.000-08:00

In one of my recent emails to my sister, I presented the truth that our life these days revolves around Vale's schedule--not ours. Vale is a fair student; he has all the smarts and talent to be a straight A student, but he has many other interests: video games, writing scripts and making movies for youtube, his electric guitar, and sports. Right now, the sport is basketball. He doesn't know all the intricacies of the game, but he can leap down the court in about four giant steps; he knows his position is under the basket, and he knows how to rebound. Vale hasn't played organized basketball since third grade, so he's on the Blended/JV team. They've had two games and skunked their opponents both times. In the last game, Vale had four baskets.

As to the rest of the family, we're aging at the appropriate rate and are still enjoying our senior citizen status. Tom fell on the ice a few months ago and hasn't been able to do all of his favorite projects. The fall stirred up something in his shoulder and ice packs, therapy, and strength-building three-times-a-day exercises haven't seemed to be effective, so this week, he gets to start the MRI/specialist routine to see what the next step will be. Tom, being the family worker bee, has voluntarily become our housekeeper and keeps the house neat as a pin. In addition to being Vale's chauffeur, homework monitor, housekeeper, cook, etc, etc, I have also become Darla's employee in her home medical billing business. I like being able to work at 3am in my pajamas and fuzzy slippers if I see fit, and I like the little nest egg I'm building for my old age. Astro is still chasing birds and squirrels, but they're all wise to him and don't take him too seriously.

Besides our immediate family, the other children seem to be doing well. The grandchildren and great-grandchildren are growing up in spite of our desires to keep them little and cute and innocent just a little longer. The adults have active busy lives. Grandma is hanging in there. All is well...all is well. Love to You All...Mom

2010-12-24T11:13:00.000-08:00

We've lost Baby Jesus!! We've looked in every bin, tote, dilapidated box, and closet shelf, and He's nowhere to be found. It's not that we have no nativity sets; we have six or seven. Alas, the Baby Jesus we're looking for belongs to a large set that's to be our window display this year. The three kings kneel reverently, offering their gifts to...the floor. Mary and Joseph sit looking adoringly down at...empty space. Tom says it's a sign!! A poignant Christmas message..a parable.. about forgetting Christ in Christmas
It is a commentary that we feel such a loss. It's really just a plastic replica...a THING...after all. We have firm testimonies of the presence and reality of Christ in our lives. We try to emulate His teachings and practices. Yet, we're experiencing a rather traumatic vagueness about all of our other preparations. Our trees are up, but the other decorations are scattered here and there throughout the house, waiting to be arranged, polished, hung, USED. It's December 20, and I'm just now writing my Christmas letter. I HOPE I'll have my Christmas gift packages in the mail today...as long as there are 54 hours between now and the mailman's arrival at 5 I should make it.
Vale, our grandson, spent time helping me try to get my mojo on before he flew home to be with his mom for Christmas. We made lots of Christmas candy for the packages. We've made at least two broiler pan batches of fudge, which have already disappeared and not into Christmas boxes!!
We have a substitute! Since we thoughtlessly placed the Nativity set in the very spot our dog, Astro, calls his, we find that he has taken up a lonely vigil in Baby Jesus' spot. He's looking too!
Our year has been somewhat in keeping with the restlessness of our days without the Baby Jesus where he belongs!! We've had lots of ups and downs, highs and lows this year. Nothing specific, traumatic, or terrible...just life-changing. We'd settled into a retirement life of service, church and community, remodeling, genealogy, quilting, visiting. Nice, comfortable...Ho hum. Then, we received this subtle little email: Hey Mom. So, we just found out that the housing that we want to get in to...is pet free. No Astro. Of course Harmony is devastated. Christy can't take him because she already has 3 dogs. What would you guys think about taking him? I know Dad was at one point thinking about getting a dog. Anyway, no pressure, just let us know what you think ok? How could we resist?? A dog after all these years! He's a Corgi...a herd dog who herds Tom everywhere, including the bathroom. A few weeks later, our grandson, Vale, took up residence with us so he can spend his eighth grade year in White Salmon. My oh my!! We'd put homework, music practice time, video games, eighth grade angst, zits, sports, etc, etc completely out of our minds years ago. Now, they're back. We need that missing Baby where he belongs!!
We hope all is well with all of you!! We have loved and appreciated friends and family all year long through visits, emails, facebook entries, and phone calls. We're happy and reasonably healthy, and...at 3am this morning, while I was setting out our Christmas village, I found the little Nativity piece way down in the corner of a bin....Ahhh...I placed Him reverently and ceremoniously into His spot and remembered the phrase: Wise Men Still Seek Him. Oh that we'll be wise and always seek Christ's presence in our lives!! Love to All. Happy Holidays.

DO DREAMS COME TRUE?

2010-12-11T03:56:00.000-08:00

I have a favorite wedding card which I buy as often as I can when I can find it. The card is all- white with an embossed picture of Cinderella stepping into her magic chariot. On the inside is the comment: Dreams Really Do Come True.

Dreams seem, often, to come true around Christmastime. A long-awaited toy becomes a bird in our hand; a visit from a friend or a dream trip seem to resolve themselves into magical moments. My thoughts have been on dreams coming true.

When our son, Tom, was a teenager, to our chagrin, he lived only to hang-out in the local parks with his friends and ride skateboards. There wasn't really a decent skate park or safe place for them to ply their craft, and they were often a menace to local drivers, merchants, and law enforcement. For most of his high school years, Tom tried to get a nice skatepark built at the park. He wrote petitions and requests, went to local town meetings, etc. Then he grew up and left home, but he never gave up on skateboarding and takes time to skate almost every day. A few days ago, in town for a few days, he remarked with pride, "Eighteen years after I started the ball rolling, there's a fantastic skatepark down in Bingen. Dreams do come true."

Steve, our Coast Guardsman, helped a young man with MS fulfill a dream when he helped him drive a Coast Guard boat and visit the Bodega Bay Station where Steve is assigned.

Recently, I was helping Vale with an assignment in his Pacific Northwest history class. He is doing a project on the Oregon Trail, which is living one's history, since we live in the area of the Trail and because Vale's great-great grandfather, Peter Franklin Clark, came to the Salem, Oregon area on the Oregon Trail. Frank Clark was an exceptional man--a man for all seasons. He worked the family farm in Missouri as a young boy, searched for and found gold during the gold rush, fought in the Civil War, commanding a local unit, Company A, Eleventh Missouri Cavalry, traveled the Oregon Trail and became a successful farmer in Zena, Oregon, served as justice of the peace, postmaster, veteran representative, and a deacon in the Baptist Church in there, and produced several journals and diaries. Only some of his journalistic efforts still exist. As I searched through Clark's journals, I found this gem in Clark's diary: "Here I must relate how old Uncle Ellis trapped me. We were talking about California and the demoralizing effect it had on young men, when I remarked that it was my firm belief that no one could stay in the California mines for a year without swearing, drinking, or gambling or even cosorting with prostitutes. 'Ha, ha, ha, now I have you, my boy,' he said. 'Did you not tell us a short while ago that you had done none of these things? So you had better own up.' But I would not.

So things went on, and I prayed in secret and persuaded myself that I could be a Christian out of the church as well as in it. When the war broke out, I went into it with all my energy, sometimes almost forgetting that there was a God. But I never wholly relapsed. I always came back when I got in a tight place, that is until August 21, 1864. In the hottest of the fight, I always asked God to protect me. But on this day, while the bullets were flying thick, it occurred to me: why should God protect me when I refused to know Him and by confessing, I then and there promised Him that if He spared me until I got home, that then I would do my duty. Very shortly afterward I received a letter from my wife, informing me that she had withdrawn from the Protestant church. Soon after, on the third Sunday in November 1864, I was baptized by the pastor of Pisgah, Reverend Henry C. Sollan, into the Baptist church. The following fall my two daughters were converted and baptized. About this time I was made church clerk, and so remained until 1874, when we all took letters before leaving for Oregon.

I have always regretted that I did not make public profession in 1846, for I believe today, February 15, 1905, that God, for Christ's sake, at the mourner's bench in Illinois, pardoned my sins. Since then, my sorrows have been many, my joys and blessings more than I deserve. But verily I believe that if I had come out on the Lord's side boldly, my sorrow would have been less and my joys many more. I therefore counsel you, my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren who read this after I am gone, to at all times, and in all places, be ready to profess your faith and to acknowledge He who has saved you. But alas, if you're not saved, seek it now, never give over until you can say, "Jesus is mine."

I wonder if we, his many descendants, have made Frank Clark's dreams come true?

WHAT HAPPENED TO SEPTEMBER

2010-10-10T08:27:00.000-07:00

A look at my latest blog entry brought on the immortal question: What happened to September? Well, here's what happened to September:

Grandson Vale, now 14, moved in to the spare bedroom downstairs. All memories of our "little" grandson were banished when this fourteen year old eighth grader walked off the plane. Suddenly, we're once again parents...demanding homework be done, supporting Scouts, PTO, and trying to understand video games, youtube, iPhones, et all.

Tom's energy has gone into a complete overhaul of the exterior of the house, all new siding and a new paint job, done solely by Tom. The new exterior also includes two beautifully finished decks, a fully enclosed back porch/workshop, and a gazebo which matches the house. In addition, we now have a neat little downstairs kitchen area.

have been sewing. Totes, an apron and a bag for a silent auction, and Welcome bags for new sisters moving into our ward. Today I was proudly shown one the green bags by a sweet little girl who told me it's her special bag for her scriptures.

I survived being mc for our fiftieth class reunion. A fun evening. When you're our age, all the pretense is gone. You no longer care who's gone bald or fat or had five marriages, and you really don't remember or care about the glory days of high school. Mostly you mourn the loss of those who've died, pass around pictures of grandchildren, hobbies, travel pictures, and wonder that you are one of the survivors.

Astro has found a lovely little girlfriend whom we call Daisy, since we don't really know her name. Daisy lives across the street but thinks she lives here, since she knows how to get our front door open, where to find the dog food dishes, and all about the dust bunnies under our bed!!

The frost is on the pumpkin now. Vale seems to be making his adjustment to a smaller school, the tremendous amount of homework he seems to have, scripture study, family prayer, new friends, school dances, etc., etc. Tom is laying in our supply of wood for the winter and planning an indoor project of finishing his personal history and doing research on some family names. I am musing over this little gem which I found on a quilting blog:

First quilter: "Are you busy making Christmas gifts? What are you making? How long 'til Christmas you ask? 77 days 14 hours. 44 minutes."

Second quilter: "I'm making a noose and hanging myself. I'll never get everything done in 77 days."

We love you all and are looking forward to Thanksgiving this year and our summer reunion with family. I'll try to keep up my blog better than I have and not lose any more months. Love from here. Mom

Some people change their ways when they feel the light. Others when they feel the heat.

Puppy Dog Tales and Other Wild Adventures

2010-08-12T07:09:00.000-07:00

As the summer winds down and our grandchildren have started filling their backpacks with school supplies, a quick review of the past weeks' adventures tend to bring us to our new lives as owners of an active, adventuresome Cardigan Welsh Corgi named Astro. Grandpa, soft touch that he is, agreed to take Astro when Marie's family found out that pets were not welcome in the Navy housing they would move into. We've now had Astro 2 1/2 months on our own, and he's managed to kill seven of our beloved squirrels, a wild rabbit and a bird or two; enrage our neighbor with a four hour stint of barking and howling while we were gone; jump out of our car when we were going about 15 mph so he could chase a deer that caught his eye, and fall out the pickup window. Tom is definitely the alpha male in our little pack; Astro shadows Tom everywhere, even waiting patiently at the bathroom door. I've had to fight for my place as the beta "male" in the pack, often having to gently push him off "my" spot on the couch or through the door. We've loved it when he seeks shelter from flies, the vacuum, or pesky visitors by crawling under our bed!! Astro has forced us into good habits; we walk every morning at the marina which is an adventure in and of itself. When we return, Astro makes a quick circuit of our entire yard and our neighbor Michelle's yard. The picture doesn't do justice to his ability to become airborne as he flies around his circuit. We've purchased a small cow bell for his collar to signal unwary victims that flying Astro is on his way.

(See his tail just at the edge of the bed skirt?)

My last few weeks have been concerned with catching up on some sewing projects; just yesterday I was banned to my sewing room for the day because professionals were shampooing the carpet. A fate worse than you know what!!
Aunt Joan and I volunteered to contribute some items for a silent auction that will help defray the cost of our upcoming (gulp) fiftieth high school reunion. So you see the totes, clutch purse and apron that are headed off to the auction. If someone doesn't take pity on me and buy them at the auction, one of you may find them in your Christmas package!! I've also started #9 and #10 of the grandkid quilts.

These are the first two blocks of Kobe's quilt which will be a red, white, and blue blue jeans quilt. In honor of my Grandmother Ethel Chase, who had none of the fancy gadgets or patterns that I have access to, I'm going to design Kobe's quilt in the style of a 30's quilt. Designing is really the most fun part of making a quilt. Brenna had the opportunity to choose the colors of her quilt, and she found a pattern style that she liked--flowers, buttons lace, etc. I'm handquilting her quilt so I can sit in the evenings in MY place on the couch beside Dad and fend off Astro.

As for Dad, being Dad......Yes...I tried to tell him....No...he didn't listen. Any problems? No...not yet anyway. The gazebo is beautiful.

Hope your summer has gone as well....Love from Mom...who, on days like that hides in the sewing room with the blinds down!!

"An optimist is someone who figures out that taking a step backward after taking a step forward is not a disaster; it's a cha-cha."

Love to you all.

A QUILT STORY

2010-07-13T13:37:00.000-07:00

This is the story of a quilt. Once upon a fairy tale, my long-time friend, Dottie, was searching through the homemaking closet at church for a project to get her through the long hours of winter. She found twenty quilt blocks that had been cut out about 40 years earlier by an older lady who never had the chance to sew them together. The lady had cut up her old dresses, aprons and feed sacks, so these were truly vintage quilt blocks. Dottie wiled away the winter hours by completing the blocks into a quilt top. The quilt top came my way, and I knew just how I wanted to finish the quilt and to whom I would give the final product. The old-fashioned, flowered stars reminded of the many flowers in my mother's and grandmother's gardens, so I envisioned vines whirling and swirling around them. I thought of all the winter evenings that I would spend hand quilting this flower garden!!

THEN....REAL LIFE SHATTERED THE DREAM. There have been those real life moments when the quilt was:

Ignored while other projects took precedence:

Held for ranson by the thread bandit

Slept on

Bled on

Marked on and spilled on
Permanently scarred by a bleach belching washing machine

This much abused vintage quilt is finished, and the recipient of quilt number eight of the Grandkid Quilt Project is Tobin, who, I know, will allow this special vintage quilt to live out its life in a rocking chair.

The quilt you see is a part of me

In your hand is the sum of my parts.

My mind, my body, and a piece of my heart.

Are quilted into its seams.

Wrap in it. lie on it, cry and dream dreams.

Cherish it, share it, and take this part of me

As a tribute to our love!!

THE AFTERMATH

2010-06-20T22:38:00.000-07:00

I've been describing the wild rumpus which lasted for about six weeks, and now, we're experiencing the downward curve of the winding down scene. Two grandchildren are still here, but there is mostly quiet....well....sort of. We've inherited our grandchildren's dog, Astro. Astro is a "boonie" dog which the kids bought in Guam. He's called a "boonie" dog because, when his masters found out the cost to ship him back to the states, they merely took off his collar and abandoned him to roam in the boondocks of Guam. Fortunately for him, he was captured and placed in an animal shelter then adopted by our kids. He's been a delight for the most part. The retriever in him is thriving on the "beasts" who call our yard home--deer, squirrels, quail, birds, raccoons, and neighborhood dogs and cats. He managed to kill a squirrel or two, but now the managerie is wise to him and he spends fruitless hours sniffing, running, scaling the rock wall. The birds even mock him by swooping down constantly to steal his dog food.

Tom found respite from the noise and happy tumult by continuing to work outside on the siding and air conditioning installation. I managed finished Connor's quilt, which turned out huge due to my inability to measure properly. I also managed to write my autobiography for my upcoming 50th class reunion:

"What have I done in the fifty years since we walked down the aisle on that warm June day in 1960? The first thing I did as line leader at graduation was lead my line into the wrong row! Not a very auspicious beginning for the rest of my life. The first few months were dark indeed; I was without my soul mate--my twin sister. I managed to perk up, float my own boat, and: graduate with a bachelor's degree from BYU; teach for almost 40 years at nearly every grade level from fifth to law school and on aircraft carriers, in jails, mental institutions, Quonset huts, a five million dollar mansion, and regular classrooms; marry the man of my dreams in the Mormon temple in Idaho Falls and remain married to 39 years and counting; give birth to six children and see them into their early thirties through their schooling, marriages, births of their children, divorces, careers, etc; rear a fine young stepson; bury a six week old baby daughter; mourn the loss of both parents, two fathers-in-law, one brother-in-law, and a brother; earn a master's degree from the University of Portland, graduating with honors; serve voluntarily in every auxilliary, as a president or teacher, in our church; write, edit, distribute 10 or so newsletters of one kind or other; write an unpublished novel and many journals, essays, talks, and letters; maintain and decorate a beautiful home; crochet, cross-stitch, quilt, or sew hundreds of items for gifts to friends, family, or charitable organizations; accumulate a 5,000 name genealogical file of Kennedy/Whitby lines, and remain rather sane. I've never again been a line leader though."

This is a cute little scene I found one day after I'd gone exploring to find out why my car alarm had gone off and the locks kept clicking on and off. The setting is under our kitchen table which is three year old Wyatt's hideout!! The book is his favorite--Star Wars, the white stuff is salt from the full salt shaker, the wrappers are gum--which had been chewed and swallowed, bag of chips, string cheese, and my car keys.
The aftermath.

OUT OF THE MOUTH OF BABES

2010-06-12T05:19:00.001-07:00

It has certainly been a fun month--filled with eating, video games, rain, sewing lessons, eating, rain, Lego building, running, rain, eating....and more. 11 bodies have been crammed into a house that normally seems large and accommodating and suddenly became almost too small for all the wild energy that sparkled and snapped and rolled through it for a month.

HARMONY (10) was the only girl in our group. Here's her agenda for one day: "Make ipod case for Emily. Make purses for Jessica, Mellisa, and Kiara. Make Nana and Jessica a book cover for their books. A few pillow cases for fun. Some book covers for me." Since it was only her second venture into the world of sewing, we managed to make the ipod case for Emily. Later we completed another purse. Harmony found my sewing/computer room to be her sanctuary from all the boys.

Ethan (9) was our go-to-guy. He helped all of us with electronic devices large and small. At one point, he said to me, "I like your Kennedy name, Grandma." I responded with, "Do you know that our name means "Ugly Head?" His rejoinder was, "But it isn't ugly for YOU."

CONNOR (8) is our Bob the Builder. Quiet and shy, with eyelashes any woman would kill for, Connor's favorite spot was the Lego table in the family room or any clear spot where something could be built. When they first arrived, I showed Connor the top for his quilt and explained that I wasn't finished yet. That evening, with a rainy evening and 47 degree weather, Connor inquired, "Did you finish my quilt today? I'm sure it's going to snow tonight!!"

KAHLIL (5) is reading a book about Knights and Castles, his passion. He explained that he needed to read the book in time for school (Kindergarten). One evening, he headed downstairs and when asked where he was going said, "I'm going to our bedroom to tell myself something that no one else can hear."

IVAN (5) and WYATT (3) are our stand-up comedians. My journal for this month has been filled with quips from these two little guys. One day I was patiently trying to explain to Ivan that we were going to have a planned power outage, and he needed to plug in his Nintendo DS so it would be charged up during the outage. "But, Grandma," he said, "It's green!!" No amount of reasoning would change his mind.
WYATT (3) has pestered me constantly to make him a knight suit. He works the suit into every conversation. I can make a knight suit, and Grandpa can make a "sord." Also, when I've finished a knight suit for him and one for Kahlil, he would like me to make a princess dress for his friend, Olive, who just had a birthday.

Although Mason was thought by the "experts" in Guam to be developmentally delayed, someone should tell Mason. He's been a busy little boy--emptying out cupboards, clearing the fridge of food, crawling into, through, and on top of everything, and imitating every sound he hears.

Alas, the rumpus has died down. Marie and family are in California, and Tom and his boys are in Portland for the weekend. Dad and I aren't sure what to do with all this quiet except to celebrate our 39th anniversary with a porterhouse steak and a long nap......ZZZZZZZZZ. Love to All. Mom

If you stop long enough, you can hear your own music. W.H. Auden

STILL RUMPUSING

2010-05-30T06:41:00.001-07:00

The three bff's play Playmobil

Mason keeps himself entertained.

Ivan was pooped

Mason loved the kids sitting on the stairs entertaining him

Grandpa outside on the deck was a constant source of entertainment

Nintendo DS time

Hmmm...ymmmm

Ipod pictures and a good book

Tom meeting the needs

This picture doesn't really capture the artistic beauty of five full spools of thread wound around and around and up and down Grandma's sewing

Wyatt spent a busy day spreading out Connor's new quilt, the pillows, afghans, etc. so that he, Aunt Marie, Grandpa and Grandma could take a nap. Of course, he got the yellow pillow.

Boys at play....

In among the quilts and pillows and chaos is a sleeping boy

Harmony sneaks some alone time

BFF's.

In among the branches is Harmony helping Grandpa feed the birds

Wyatt joins the dog

Boy fun

Wyatt all ready for the dance

NEED I SAY MORE?

LET THE WILD RUMPUS BEGIN

2010-05-18T04:57:00.000-07:00

SAME SONG, SECOND VERSE

2010-04-25T08:04:00.000-07:00

As I sit among the boxes in my sewing room, I'm trying to imagine how I'm going to stow all of their precious contents into the nooks and crannies of the sewing room. Shifting a household around to accommodate for the nine additional people who will be living here for at least six weeks is not a task for the faint-hearted. It's been great to clean out closets and shelves, to plan bedrooms, meals, entertainment, and to baby-proof the house once again!!

Dad enlisted Tom's help with sheetrocking the laundry room. It's now fully sheetrocked and waiting for white paint, shelving, and a countertop. Tom's height has been a real plus in getting everything in place.

I have been decorating. This is a portion of the new middle deck. You're looking out the living room window. Literally minutes after I took this picture, a strong wind came up and blew down the huge philodendron on its wrought iron pedastel, but.....As they say, same song, second verse.

I'm bursting my buttons over everyone's accomplishments lately!! Mark seems to be a world traveler for his company lately: Shanghai, London, Turkey, and Jennifer, Debbie, and Kevin are lending their support and expertise to the local stable and charitable events. Darla is a new position with the corporation she's working for...so new that they're having to create a name for the position. Susan, with support from family and friends, has taught us all the importance of "dancing in the rain" in the way she's handled her cancer treatments and just wrote the first 30 pages of her first novel. Steve has been instrumental in some spectacular rescues of late, including one of a tire that tumbled out of a truck and down the hill!! Marie is counting the days...20? 21? until she can get some retail therapy by hitting the Target store in the US!! Tom pulled a 3.7 gpa last quarter, worked part-time, and took apart and put back together his bike so many times I've lost track!! Dad is a driven man. When he isn't out working on this project or the other, he's thinking of ways to get things done! Me? I'm now first counselor in the RS, so I have to start behaving myself--going to meetings, etc.!! We're doing well, aren't we? But, no time to sit back on our laurels...we need to forget ourselves and serve those whom we love. Love to you all. Mom

SPRING PROJECTS--What can I say?

2010-04-12T16:29:00.001-07:00

The sun was out, but the wind was chill.

You know how it is with an April day.

When the sun is out, and the wind is still.

You're one month on in the middle of May.

But, if you so much as dare to speak,

A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,

A wind comes off a frozen peak,

And you're two months back in the middle of March.

Robert Frost said it well in his classic poem, "Two Tramps in Mudtime." Today we're in the middle of May...Tomorrow...who knows? It's spring and as usual, we're in project mode.
Dad's newest project is siding, siding, siding.

No, these are not biker's vests as Dad teases...they're cowboy vests for Kahlil and Wyatt.

Kobe's quilt--#9 of the Grandkid Quilt Caper is begun.
These little fellows are black-headed grosbeaks who are singing their hearts out.
My first tulip all bloomed out

The siding...can you see why I may have been biting my lips a little until he built the "middle deck." The empty planters still need to be filled. Here's to Project Mode and Spring and love and wonder and a world that is "mud luscious and puddle wonderful" right now. Love to you all, Mom

COMFORT AND OTHER SMALL PLEASURES

2010-03-21T08:10:00.000-07:00

On one of those days when rain was clattering on our window pane, and the wood stove was snapping and popping burning embers, I pulled out some "comfort" clothes to wear!! One is an old cotton t-shirt--big enough to cover all the bumps and grinds, worn so thin that it's almost too obscene to wear, and solid as the Rock of Gibralter. The old t-shirt got me to thinking about comfort. Our life is so comfortable right now that it's almost hard to relate to all the turmoil of the world that's going on all around us.

Dad has his projects: Now it's new siding for the house. The windows are new; the siding is too. The old beige eaves will be covered with shingles soon. Lately, Dad stands often at the living room window, gazing out into the back yard. He tells me that he's envisioning now how he can build scaffolding so he can do the siding along the living room picture window. I think I'm going to go visit Susan or Darla or Grandma while he's doing that!!

I have my projects as well:

I've made 19 of the 20 blocks I need for Connor's quilt, and I have half of Tobin's quilt hand-quilted.

A week or so ago, we were traveling to Bremerton to see Grandma and had settled into our usual mode: engrossing book on cd entertaining us, our seat warmers at full blast, cups of pop, sugar free snacks, and a sewing project for me. Comfort, solidity--all's right with the world. I was reminded of a time in my youth when I was in third grade and called to the principal's office. I was terrified!! I was always a good girl and never got into trouble, so I didn't know what to expect. Following me down the hall were Aunt Joan and Uncle Joe--all looking as terrified and puzzled as I was!! At the office, we were greeted by Mama and Daddy. They never came to school in the middle of the day!! They were checking us out of school for a day or two and wore mysterious smiles. Really? I remember them pouring cups of coffee back and forth from Daddy's work thermos. Unheard of! The car was warm; the ambience one of confidence. Then, my dad did something really unpredictable; he pulled around a Detour sign, knocking a sawhorse down, and we proceeded to drive through a road construction are for several miles!! What a memorable trip. My dad even waved to a state patroman--who waved back! My dad had a job offer at OK Tire Welders in Hermiston, Oregon from one of his old CCC buddies, and we spent that day exploring the area around Hermiston which was booming because of the construction of McNary Dam. The memory of that trip and the two years we lived in Hermiston were some of the highlights of my young life--my time of comfort, growth, and coming of age!! Hope this little post finds all of you in a comfortable time in your life as well!! Love to All. Mom

SPRING IS SPRUNG...THE GRASS IS RIZ...

2010-03-07T07:48:00.000-08:00

With the coming of spring to the Gorge, we're back in full swing into projects, trips, and the ordinary "stuff." Dad has remodeled the old shed. Although the new roof won't be on until fall, a beautiful little potting/storage shed has replaced the old eyesore. A window will be going into that blank wall next week. I'm not sure what Dad would do without his projects....

I have joined a quilting group. It's some ladies from church who've been friends for many years. We get together twice a month to share quilting techniques, make quilts for welfare projects, and we're each making our own quilt--two blocks a month. Lots of fun--gossiping, sewing, laughing, sharing. The quilt block you see is one that will be used in Connor's quilt.

We spent the later part of February on a fun road trip. Breakfast with Tobin and her family. Notice how bundled up Dad and I are compared to Tobin. She was acclimated to the frosty winter weather!!

We'd intended to head for the Hole-in-the-Rock area but didn't quite make it to that area!! Too much snow!! We did go through a lot of the area around Hole-in-the- Rock though. Dad took lots of pictures. We explored around some beautiful sites.

Very, very early in the morning, we stopped to take pictures of the Snowflake Temple. I always marvel at the desolate land here and think of the pioneers and cattlemen who were courageous enough to make the desert blossom. Kevin and Debbie have a ranch in Snowflake. The landscaping around the temple is in keeping with the surroundings.

We spent a fun day in Tombstone, Arizona. The cemetery in Tombstone is a national monument, and visitors are asked to respect the fact that it is a cemetery. That's a bit hard to do when one walks along the barren gravel paths in the cemetery and reads the epitaphs!!

I stayed in Mesa for a week to help Susan, and Dad drove to Santa Maria, California to visit DeAnne. Right now she's working on a set for "West Side Story" and designing a set for "Peter Pan."

Life is good....blessed....charmed. "All is well. All is well." Love, Mom

IF YOU CAN'T GET UNDER IT....

2010-01-31T08:00:00.000-08:00

Have you heard of serendipity...the accidental discovery of something wonderful? Emphasis on the accidental aspect of the discovery. This has been a time of some serendipitous events as well as serendipitous memories and experiences.

Genealogy has been my passion since I was twelve. I've done research for hundreds of names in both the Whitby lines and the Kennedy lines. It's a fulfilling hobby--rich in choice experiences. The past week or so, I've been sprucing up some information, so that I can send it to Dad's cousin who is writing a book on Dad's maternal line--the Perkins family. In combining our two sets of information, I've had some serendipitous reminders of why genealogy is sooo addicting. The Perkins were a hard-working, tough lot of miners who immigrated from the coal mines of Aberford, Yorkshire, England to the quartz mines of Montana where they became ranchers and farmers and prison guards. As I've entered their names into my database, I've felt their presence...in the sense that I've been able to envision their homes, their ranches, their love for the land. One lady wrote that they would have starved to death as children had it not been for their aunts and uncles bringing them food from their gardens. I've felt an overwhelming love for these true pioneers. I've become acquainted--slightly--with an English lady, Sally Popplestone, who has sent me pages of information and delighted me with her wit. Serendipitous indeed....

Just a week or two ago, at church, a lady sat down in the pew in front of me, handing me a small, purse-size notebook. She asked, with a smile, "Remember this? I've had it in my car for three years now. I found it in your desk at school and have meant to bring it to you, and I finally remembered it today." The small notebook was my Thought Book. Every day, throughout most of my teaching career, I wrote a thought for the day on the board for my students. The question most often asked me by students coming back to visit was, "Do you still put up a thought for the day?" I've collected small poems and sayings, again, since I was 11 or 12. What a choice experience to browse through my old notebook. Here's just one week's entries under the title: "Things we can Learn from

Children"

Nobody can pedal the bike for you

If you wait until you're really sure, you'll never take off your training wheels.

Nobody notices when your zipper is up, but everybody knows when your zipper is down.

Sometimes you have to take the test before you're finished studying.

If you're going to fight, use pillows.

Before you trade sandwiches, check between the bread.

You have to eat a lot of cereal before you find the free toy.

If you want a kitten, start out asking for a horse.

And there's this picture I snapped the other day. Tom has spent most of his retirement working on our home, especially the outside of the home. He's made tremendous improvements, and 99% of the work, he's done on his own. So, he had this little gem in the corner of our new lower deck. Wonder what it's for? So did I. He hemmed and hawed, then walked me around to the front of the deck....My ant attacking his own rubber tree plant.

No wonder we continue to stick to our hobbies and interests. The lower deck is nearly finished, pruning and planting is next, and two grandkid quilts are begun. Hmmm...what serendipitous events will be ours as we work on them???

Happiness for all of you!! Mom

Apologies to Mother Blog

2010-01-10T05:51:00.000-08:00

When I was in my early 50's , I resigned from teaching to make my living as a published author. Sound familiar?? I felt I could write articles for magazines, which I did, a novel, did that too, but nobody was interested in them. One Christmas, I compiled a small booklet of what I considered my "best" editorials, talks, essays, etc. as a Christmas gift for my children. That one received little commentary; one son even said, "I was so bored when I was at Grandma's that I read your book." Now, in my late 60's, I'm having difficulty thinking that what I have to say is of much value in the over-all scheme of things. This blog is a good example. I've neglected the blog. I think about it; I even get onto the site sometimes and stare at the blank page, trying to think of something to write. I often look through my many pictures, trying to find inspiration there. However, the creative juices just aren't flowing right now.

That's not to say that my life is dull--far from it. It's just to say that my life is routine. I have learned also not to open my mouth in public and blurt out profundities like, "My children would never do that!! I've taught them better!!" My children have done that. As a senior citizen, my opinions and ideas are rarely considered in the public forum; I'm nodded at and cajoled but not taken seriously when I make a suggestion. So, I do what I do, think my thoughts--pure or im--and try to fill the blank page of my blog.

When I started this post a week or two ago, I was, obviously, in a bit of a rut!! Life, with its myriads of high roads and low, has hit me straight between the eyes, however, and I'm finding that I have lots to contemplate and share.. Our son, Steve, just received his rank (??) of surfman. If any of you have seen or heard what a surfman in the Coast Guard does, think The Guardian, you'll know that it was no mean feat. This was Steve's second major training in six months, and this week he began EMT certification. We're proud of Steve and his career choice. Whenever I think of Steve in the dangerous situations he finds himself these days, I remember a sight etched in my memory forever. It was May; the sky was cloudless and blue as Steve's eyes. A multi-colored hot air balloon floated above me with Steve dangling from it hooked to a bungee cord. His face was pasty white; my heart was pounding so loudly I could hear it. Above this scene, I heard Steve shouting---"Awesome!!"

Our daughter, Susan, just sent this note in a family letter: "Secondly, I'm sure some of you have heard by now, but my endocrinologist found a cyst in my thyroid. He said it looked "suspicious." Eric and I met with a surgeon on Monday who said it's "beyond suspicious." Apparently with the thyroid, the doctors can never be 100% sure it's cancer until they operate, but both docs said they are 95% sure the cyst is cancerous. The good news is that, from everything I've read and heard, thyroid cancer is very slow moving and rarely fatal. Nevertheless, my doctors feel I need to have my thyroid removed in the next 6 months....At this point, I don't know what we need besides a quick prayer or two. I have absolute confidence that I will be perfectly fine; in fact, I'm embarrassed by the concern I've already caused. My mother-in-law says I need to be 'a little bit more of a drama queen,' so here you go..." My thoughts of Susan tend toward a time when Susan was about four, and I tried every strategy I knew to get her to sleep--bedtime prayers, stories, etc. to no avail. So, I got tough and locked her bedroom door, figuring she'd play until she got tired. You know the outcome of this one. I forgot to unlock the door. At 2am, I found her crawling in bed with us, saying, "I scared." She had figured out how to open her bedroom window, crawl out the window, walk in the pitch black night outside around to the back door, climb up the stairs in a pitch black house to find our room. I think this "un-drama queen" will be fine.

Finally our son, Tom, and his wife have decided to "take some time to heal and then work on a healthy and mutual separation." For Tom, this has meant coming back home, enrolling in school and looking for a job. It's meant some changes in our lifestyle. My car and camera seem to move in and out of my life. Since Tom's student loan hasn't arrived yet, Mom and Dad are in a bit of shock over the cost of college textbooks--over $500 this quarter. Instead of writing that novel, those articles I mentioned earlier, I should have written a college text book or two. As Tom takes long walks all over town and the surrounding area, taking some stunning pictures, I am reminded of when he was a little boy take "wahks" and "camp twips" in our backyard as a little boy. He almost decimated my silver spoon set getting "diggers" for his various adventures.

We're dealing with all the changes the way we always do. Tom is working on what we're now calling the "lower" deck, and I've just purchased a quilt top to hand quilt for my oldest granddaughter and I'm trying out quilt square patterns for Connor, our number eight grandchild, whose the next child up for a quilt. No more writer's block--blank pages for me!!

"While we try to teach our children all about life; our children teach us what life is all about."

Love from here. Mom

What Happened to November and Other Burning Questions

2009-12-06T07:19:00.000-08:00

My oh my...I didn't realize that I hadn't updated my blog since late October. That certainly says something about the quality of excitement in our life!! When I keep up with a weekly family newsletter, nearly daily facebook status updates, and the blog, it's a wonder that you don't know when we sneeze around here!!

This was the view out my sewing room window!! My sweetheart has finished his wall for the season, the bulb planting, the storage shed, and the leaf raking, and he's now doing our outdoors Christmas. One would think that I have a small work area only for my many sewing projects by this picture but not so. In spite of the nice little sewing room I have, I somehow tend to scrunch myself into this small area--my little cocoon. Heather's quilt is finished; Mark's birthday gift is finished--unframed but finished; Christmas items are in various stages of preparation...I'm good.

Today I began my Christmas letter. I rejected this one as a bit too serious for a Christmas epistle, but I think the thoughts are important:

As I compose my yearly Christmas letter, tragedy is unfolding a mere forty miles away, as the crow flies, on Mount Hood. Friday morning, at 1 am, three hikers left Timberline Lodge to make a “technical” hike on Mount Hood. Although fairly young, the climbers, a woman and two men,were described as experienced and well-prepared for their hike. Mother Nature is fickle, and the weather on Hood can change on a dime. Hundreds have made the hike, but the trail has its share of fatalities as well. For days now, a group of intrepid volunteer emergency personnel has been scouring the mountain in icy, treacherous conditions. Family and friends have joined the rescue team. One body has been found, but one man and one woman are still on the mountain. Today, Sunday, helicopters have been able to join the search.
This morning I’ve been reading the comments made online about this tragic incident. A great deal of speculation ripples through the commentaries. Are they alive? Dead along with their companion? Afraid? Snugly camped in some remote area drinking hot coffee until the weather moderates? There are some letters that are truly heartfelt prayers for the two people still unrescued. Some writers are angry that this incident is just one of many in which smart-aleck climbers, who think they can outwit the weather, are stranded and require that local volunteers risk their lives and limbs to pull them off, feeling they should be fined heavily once they’re rescued to defray the cost of saving their sorry butts. There are philosophical letters re-iterating that we all make mistakes in judgment. and the hikers should not be so harshly treated. Some have asked, “Where’s their PLB?” A PLB is a Personal Locator Beacon—a device—somewhat costly--$300-400—that sends signals to would-be rescuers. At least one family is already making funeral arrangements so close to Christmas for their loved one.
I cannot help but make comparisons this morning and see this tragedy as a type or lesson concerning the reason for the Christmas season!! The three hikers set out on their climb full of optimism and hope, just as we’ve set out on our journey through life. They felt well-prepared for their journey, joking with the staff at Timberline Lodge as they headed out. Somewhere along the trail tragedy occurred; no one knows just what—an avalanche, a fall, a misstep? So they were caught on the mountain; their only source of communication a cell phone that wouldn’t work. One letter writer commented that wherever they were on the mountain they could see for miles and miles—even into the Willamette Valley, where hundreds(?) of cell phone towers dot the landscape. Most hikers take along a PLB—Personal Locator Beacon, but they’d not brought one. I think the term, Personal Locator Beacon, is such an apt description for the guideposts which each of us needs in our lives. For those who believe in a Supreme Being, one PLB could certainly be prayer. Another could be the love of friends and family. A young missionary today compared the strong, loving hug of his earthly father to the loving arms of the Savior. Family members of these young people have joined the rescue team or are waiting at Timberline to hold them once their ordeal is over. Still another PLB might be the scriptures, meditation, or contemplation. If we forget such PLBs or convince ourselves that we can’t afford them, or they won’t work for us, we’re missing out on some of the richest experiences of our lives. One other PLB could certainly be the prayers of others. Perhaps the young hikers will feel the effect of all those prayers sent heavenward for them and be comforted in whatever circumstance they find themselves in at this moment. In our lives, we need our own PLBs to comfort us in whatever circumstance we may find ourselves. My prayer for all of us in this Christmas season is that we’ll search for, and purchase, at any cost, the PLBs that will enrich us, comfort us, and give us peace. They are as expensive as the electronic PLB because the purchase price is our own soul, our humility, our willingness to forgive and forget and let others into our life. The price is dear, but we'll want that PLB with us when we're on our own spot of danger and despair!!

Love to You All. Mom

AUTUMN HAS COME TO THE GORGE

2009-10-21T10:33:00.000-07:00

Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with all they might...
Ecclesiastes 9:10

Autumn has come to the Gorge, and we're settling in!! The rock wall has really come along. When I go out to check on Dad, I have to go to the far end of the deck. The wall is almost to the old shed. You can tell by the rock wall below him, my sweet "Romeo" is propped on a twelve foot ladder in the picture!! Although I love that he climbed the ladder to help me with the lens of his camera, it makes my knees weak to even look at this picture!!

Autumn has come to the Gorge and our backyard. I threw in at least one picture from our trip through the Yakima River area!!

My project is still Heather's quilt AND Santa's Workshop will soon be open. Life is complete and wonderful!! Love to You all. Mom

"The best antidote I know for worry is work. The best medicine for despair is service. The best cure for weariness is the challenge of helping someone who is even more tired." — Gordon B. Hinckley

Dad's Cat and Other Summer Fun

2009-09-13T21:32:00.000-07:00

Summer seems to be drawing to its close, in spite of 90 degree weather today. Our summer acquisition has been Dad's Cat. Now, Dad will not own up to having a cat, calls it my cat. The fact, however, remains that the cat spends most of his day sitting on the rock pile watching Dad. The little black yard cat chases birds he can only dream of catching, intimidates squirrels into hiding in their rock wall homes, and sniffs around the bird feeders and bird houses. Dad won't claim an attachment to the little guy, but he's planning to buy some cat food tomorrow.

Uncle Garth and Aunt Joan are doing well on their mission, learning to love the east. Aunt Joan and I have had some fun experiences, involving our "twinness," even though we're separated by 3000 miles. As is our custom, we've begun to talk to each other about Christmas projects in our daily emails. One day, I described in detail a beautiful Christmas wall hanging that involved the use of a popular quilt design called feathering. I had just ordered a book, so that I could learn the technique. I no sooner sent the message into cyberspace, than I received

her daily email, which said: "I'm going to have to learn how to do feathering on the quilt I'm working on because it's a feathered star." One or two days later, I wrote her a long email about my plans for family Christmas gifts. I felt that Tom and I had come up with a very unique idea, and I was excited to tell her. (Sorry, can't reveal the plan.) Once again, our emails winged past each other in cyberspace, and I received her email, which revealed a plan she and Garth had cooked up, which is exactly like ours!! What a hoot!

Dad's project is finished. Our enclosed back porch!!
My projects include making the squares for Heather's quilt. The angel is brown--a tribute to Heather's little sister, Julianna. I have the little square halfway quilted. The other photo isn't clear enough, but there are six pieces of material. I spotted the material a few days ago and had to have them!! Now, being who I am, I haven't thought through how, but I plan to make them into Kobe's and Connor's quilts. Any ideas to share???

Fall is Dad's favorite season, and we're anticipating a month or two of glorious weather. We hope all of you will anticipate and enjoy as well. We love all of you. Mom

"Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve." - J. K. Rowling

Burning Issues and Moving On

2009-08-30T17:18:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone,
I have been trying all afternoon to solve a puzzle. About May, I found a great cross-stitch kit that I thought would be a perfect birthday gift for Aunt Joan. I worked on the project all during my stay at Marie's and most of May and June and finally finished it. I've spent almost three weeks now, trying to find a way to adequately display the crazy thing!! It's an awkward size, and most of my ideas just haven't worked!! I've even enlisted Dad in my project. Many of you may not know, but your father is quite an artist. He has a real eye for design and excellent suggestions, but....in this instance, nothing has worked. I tell you all this because I intend to put what I've done into a box and send it to Aunt Joan and MOVE ON. Well, truth be told, I'm going to try one more idea, and, if that doesn't work, I'll move on. This experience has had me thinking, once again, about the fact that sometimes, in our every day life, we simply must pull ourselves out of our ruts of guilt, anger, frustration, and ineffective thinking, forgive ourselves and others if necessary, and move on.

Life has been pretty quiet since our company left. I've found a few hilarious souvenirs from our latest company: the big stuffed dog lassoed by one of my big quilting hoops by two little big-eyed cowboys, and Molly Bear and Elder What's-his-name's bear sitting in the living room where they were rescued by my heroic little fi-o-men. We're making plans for the coming school year for our Institute class. I'm still working on quilts and starting to plan Christmas gifts. Dad's working on the rock wall and beginning the fall weeding, etc. The many pictures of the back-to-schoolers is a reminder of the not-so-long ago days when it was the parents of this batch who were begging for Swatch watches, Silver tab jeans, a certain notebook and wondering which friend would be in their class!! I always think of Tommy who got a pink slip on the first day of kindergarten. He saw a large light bulb laying on the top of a garbage can heap and smashed it on the wall to see why it rattled. He came home very excitedly saying, "And if I get another pink slip tomorrow, I get to go see the principal. Mom, do I know the principal?" You guessed it. He figured out a way to get to see the principal!! Mark began his first day in WS schools in 100 degree weather wearing a leather fringed western jacket and cowboy boots!! Being an outsider with a "funny way of talking," Mark suffered the indignity of having the tires let out on his bike by a group of hooligans who later became some of his best buddies. Darla and Jothan played follow the leader and jumped, hopped, marched, and played their first day and were, consequently, late for their first day of kindergarten. I must confess that I get a lumpy throat and make a run by the schools on the first day.

There's a big wildfire up around Mosier. It's always dramatic to see the airplanes dipping their huge buckets into the Columbia to put out fires. Our neighbor told us that the hills around Mosier are aglow all evening. We pray for the firefighters and for those whose homes are threatened. (These pictures were taken at the Lyle rest area.)

Please, Everyone, keep yourselves well. Not only physically but spiritually and emotionally as well.

Isn't it strange how princes and kings,and clowns that caper in sawdust rings,and common people, like you and me,are builders for eternity?Each is given a list of rules;a shapeless mass; a bag of tools.And each must fashion, ere life is flown,A stumbling block, or a Stepping-Stone.by R. Lee Sharpe

BUILDING

2009-08-05T06:53:00.000-07:00

One of the older buildings in town burned not long ago. Within a day or so, the building was boarded up, and the owners of the shops were already busy re-building and renovating. In a funny little twist, Tom showed me a quirky little sight at the side of the house, and the sight of this little honeysuckle vine climbing up a wire lead me to think about how much our family loves to build! Kevin and Debbie are building children's books about animal care; Mark and Jennifer build and decorate houses; DeAnne designs sets for plays; Tobin cooks scrumptuous goodies; Darla, information/computer systems; Susan, book blogs and adoption websites; Steve restores cars; Ben builds furniture and Marie,recipes, organizational ideas and blogs. Tom is restoring a huge 1801 church pulpit for his employer; Nicole sells her own concoctions of salves and herbs. Dad is back to working on the rock wall, and I'm building a quilt for Heather. We love to build, and I hope that 99% of what we love to build is our own character, patience, and a sense of the service our building can bring to others.

This summer has been, once again, about family, and we're so pleased that between Dad and me we've seen every member of the family except Tom. Last night I sat downstairs, listening to Wyatt and Kahlil playing in the bathtub, and could hear the echo of 35+ years of kids, grandkids, and great grandkids laughing and splashing in that old tub. Have I remembered to use the word blessed in this blog yet?

All is well here. Yesterday we were strolling around in Craft Warehouse, and I pointed out all the art supplies on display and said, "I think for your winter project, you should do some painting." I had heard that in his younger years, Dad did some excellent sketching and painting, but he's never done any since. He looked incredulous!! Sit down?? Vegetate in front of an easel?? How could I suggest such a thing?? He has too many remodeling projects in mind for any of that kind of nonsense!! I have begun to think about Christmas and Christmas gifts...It's so powerful and empowering to have projects in mind to dream about and DO.

Wishing all of you some enjoyment through these dog days of summer and hoping that we're all building SOMETHING. Let's see--where did I put my quilting needles??

"The most pathetic person in the world is someone who has sight but has no vision."
- Helen Keller

I'm Back

2009-07-24T10:17:00.001-07:00

It was difficult to leave Guam, but it was time to give Marie to adjust to what she calls her reality, and for me to get back to mine!! I enjoyed being on a tropical island and took a quick shot of the lush green park around Marie's house.
My flight from Guam to Tokyo proved to be an interesting one!! In spite of all that puny man has created, Mother Nature always does him one or two better! We passed through the edge of a solar eclipse. The view out one side of the plane was total blackness; outside the other it was light. We all oohed and ahhed. I finished reading a book Marie had loaned me--Harry Potter and the Deadly Hallows. I have to confess that I enjoyed it.

I spent an hour in the Tokyo Airport. I enjoyed this display of origami warriors in a shop which specialized in all sorts of origami. Fascinating. As I waited for my flight, I was almost horrified to see over 100 Japanese middle-school age children walk in. Besides a few miscellaneous passengers like myself, there were the 100 children, a group of high school evangelists who'd just completed a humanitarian mission in the Philippines, and a group of high schoolers who had done a study abroad in Japan. It made for a noisy, busy flight, since the electronics in the coach part of the plane was down, so no inflight movie, radio, video games, etc. to keep the group entertained!! Eight hours of teenage angst!! The Japanese children were fun to watch. They screeched with delight when the plane took off and when it landed. They visited and chatted and hugged each other; some of the girls sitting 4 or 5 deep in the seats designed for 3. For some reason, they took pictures of their meals on the plane. Pre-teenage excitement about every little thing is the same in any language! The evangelical group seemed to be exhausted; they were quiet and asleep for most of the nine hour flight; service to others can be tiring. I found the study abroad group who sat closest to me to be the most obnoxious. Most of them were flaunting their newly acquired language skills to Japanese native speakers and to impress any of the rest of us around them. I thought of the old song: "Puttin' on the agony, puttin' on the style. That's what all the young folks are doing all the while."

I was amazed to greet a teenage giant named Vale calling "Grandma" in a low voice!!

The final fun of my first day home was a breakfast at Shari's with Mark's family, who were all headed in separte directions after a fun reunion at our house.

All in all, a good time had been had by all--except perhaps Tom who spent many, many hours building a beautiful, beautiful new deck and gathering wood for our winter's pleasure. Life at is best!!

Love to all. Mom

"Love is like the North Star. In a changing world, it's always constant." — Gordon B. Hinckley

Hanging Out and Hanging On

2009-07-18T22:39:00.000-07:00

Little Mason is nine days old....

This tray came to Grandma with the request, "Will you pix it?"

Ethan made a pet of a tiny gecko we found in a bedroom.

Legos, Legos, and more Legos.

Ready for church

A funny Mohawk to tease Mom.
The main attraction.

There is no doubt that summertime in Guam is a study in contrasts. I'm still in Guam and enjoying the grandkids, old and new, but....I'm so looking forward to seeing my sweetheart on Wednesday--stateside Wednesday. What's interesting about missing a loved one is that you find that what you really, truly miss is not so much the big things, but the million of small, minute images, feelings, memories that make up 38 years of being with someone. I miss the crinkles/crow's feet in Tom's eyes when he laughs at a private joke we've shared. I miss looking at his hands, every inch of which I know and love, I miss his "I'm home....where are you?" when he's been gone even for just a few minutes. I miss seeing the blue light of his watch when he checks it in the middle of the night.....and a million other things. So, I'm hanging on for Wednesday. In the meantime, I'm enjoying all the quirkiness, silliness, foolishness of five little children. We're hanging out in a land where one minute there's thunder, lightning, sleeting,slanting rain and a few minutes after the storm, there's not trace of a drop of moisture....

INTRODUCING...MASTER MASON CHARLES TURNER

2009-07-11T00:59:00.000-07:00

After waiting nearly an hour, while nurses weighed, measured, and bathed the two hour old baby, Mason Charles Turner was greeted with oohs and ahs by his big brothers and sister. So much joy fills a room during such events!! I always think of Wordsworth's words: "

" But trailing clouds of glory do we come/From God who is our home. Heaven lies about us in our infancy..."

Heaven indeed. It was as enthralling to greet Number 16 grandchild as it was to greet Number 1 20 plus years ago. A privilege indeed--in the midst of a storm on a tropical island!! Mason Charles Turner born July 10 (I know what you're thinking, but remember we're in Guam) at 4:45 pm, a whopping 8 lbs and 2 ounces

Welcome to the world, Mason.

STILL WAITING

2009-07-05T21:06:00.001-07:00

For baby.....

Still here....still waiting...having fun....missing my sweetheart.

Love you all, Mom

RIDING OUT THE STORM

2009-06-30T13:00:00.000-07:00

There are many kinds of storms, and, at this day and time, I'm riding out a few of them. None are serious--just adjustments to a different life style--temporary at best--here in Guam as we await the birth of Mason.

The first storm is potty training. As you'll notice in these pictures, Ivan, Marie's youngest, is usually dressed in a t-shirt and pullups because we are potty training!! Since I potty-trained five children, I assumed that I could manage that task for Marie with Ivan, who is developmentally delayed. My oh my...cut my tongue out. I've been getting my daily exercise by chasing Ivan all over the house, attempting to get him on the "potty train." His reward for toileting properly is "potty candy." An oxymoron if I've ever heard one. Our conversations in the bathroom have been, if nothing else, hilarious!

Me: Ivan, I'd like you to potty in the toilet just like your big brothers.

Ivan: My big brothers can shoot droids, and I can shoot the droids....as he flushes the toilet several times, tips over the toothbrush holder, and plays with the bathtub toys...but no job done. I am, however, determined. I am also attempting to potty train to the dog who loves nothing better than to do his morning business in the boys' room. This too has been my daily aerobic exercise and my voice exercises..."Close your door!! Astro's headed for the bedroom!!" "Boys, run back and close your bedroom door--now!" And so it goes.

The next storm is the air conditioning. It is so hot and humid here that the a/c runs all the time. Thus, the pictures of children in shorts, wrapped in blankets. For those wondering about the rainbow blanket, it is already a much-used accessory. This particular storm, the blanket brigade, is accompanied by storms of: "Clean your place at the lunch table, have you done your morning chores, I know you don't want to (fill in the blank), but your mother wants you to (fill in the blank.)" These constant tirades remind me constantly of my days as a young mother with young children.

The third storm has to do with living in the tropics. Every day there is a brief tropical storm accompanied by constant heat, so the wonderful play area which is mere feet from Marie's back door remains empty most of the day. Summer vacation in Guam is similar to winter vacation in colder climates. Cooped up--cramped area--not enough to do. "I'm bored," they say to which I reply, "Shall I find you something to do?" "I'm hungry," they complain. "I've watched all these movies, video games, computer games, etc.," and it's only June!!

I'm truly not complaining. I love my Marie with her bubbly optimism, wonderful, funny mothering, and our projects. Ben is strong and silent--a true patriarch to his family. The kids are kids--funny and funky. Tom is at home working far too hard and keeping Vale entertained, and we both agree that we're lonesome but not alone....There is always a rainbow at the end of the storm. Love from Guam--where America's day begins. Mom

A WALK WITH ETHAN

2009-06-23T12:08:00.000-07:00

Here in Guam, beauty is everywhere--swaying palm trees, flowers of bright oranges, reds, and blues, colorful tourist buses and jitneys, heart-stopping sunsets, and a truly azure ocean. My pictures are a bit jumbled, and I'm not at my own computer so....bear with me.

My grandson, Ethan, and I take a walk every morning. If we're not out and about by 6am, we are in for an excessively warm walk. Our path looks about like the picture. I am a number of steps behind, and Etan is ahead talking a mile a minute. Ethan is Ethan Thomas, named for his Grandfather Kennedy, and he is well-named. At eight, Ethan is a sweet, sensitive, responsible boy, bright, and interested in helping everyone. He is an artist and a philosopher, and he's taken on the responsibility of teaching me about nature and life and love as we walk the dog, Astro. Some Ethanisms: I said: "Oh look, Ethan, it rained last night." "That's dew, Grandma. Dew comes up and rain comes down."

Ethan is concerned that it is his duty to inform people how to get themselves physically fit, so he made a number of fitness signs which he taped to all the stop signs in the neighborhood. Of the poster, he said: "You can tell how a person is feeling if you look at their eyes." He then demonstrated sad eyes, happy eyes, mad eyes, etc. for me. Then he said: "My dog in the poster has sad eyes because he wants people to be happy." In case you can't read the poster, it says: "Don't be like a dog. Don't sweet out of your tounge."

The home in the picture is 47 Poincianna Circle where the Turners live. Anywhere you look, there are swaying palm trees. The little park is directly behind their house.

The next picture isn't great, but if you'll look along the aerial, at the roofline, there is a shadow of a huge "boonie" bee. Everything that is bad, abandoned, run-down, etc. in Guam is "boonie." I am to look out for "boonie" bees because their stings are awful bad, and Ethan will show you all the places he's been bitten if you ask.

If you look in the center of the house, you'll see a bird on the wing. A lady jogging by told us there was a parakeet loose, and Ethan found him by pretending he was a parakeet.

Our four year old grandson, Ivan, is developmentally delayed, and water of any kind thrills and delights him, so Ethan wanted to get out the wading pool for Ivan. Being a northwesterner, I explained that he should fill the pool with water right after our early morning walk so it would have time to warm up before they played in the pool. He was puzzled by my advice, but being the pleaser that he is, he filled the pool. The truth is that the water out of the tap is never cold in Guam!!
The biggest news so far is that Connor, age 7, just lost his fourth tooth! It took him all day to wiggle it loose, but here's the proof.
I do miss my sweetheart, but I'm feeling useful, even if I may not be....I love all of you!! Baby Mason is making his presence known with his own kicking and pushing, but his doctors want him to stay in the womb just a bit longer. We'll see who has the stronger will!! Love to All. Mom

IF I THINK TOO MUCH, I MIGHT CRY AGAIN

2009-06-16T03:29:00.000-07:00

I've never intended my blog to be a forum for unloading my troubles or stresses or for complaining about this and that. How can I complain about my life? I'm retired, with time on my hands to do all the things I love; I'm serving a mission for my church--giving back a little of what I've been given; I have the love of a beautiful family, who, though their lives have ups and downs, are consistently upbeat and supportive; a dear, dear husband who is patient, loving, and a great friend. So, my title may be a bit misleading...my tears have been flowing a lot the past week or two but...I'm tough. I'll be returning, tomorrow, to Guam for a while to help care for Marie's family while they bring baby number five into the world. Such a trip has mixed blessings. I'm very grateful to be healthy enough to care for them and don't begrudge one second of the time I'll be spending on a tropical island with loved ones, but I'm already anticipating how I will miss my husband!! We've been inseparable for years now. We're best friends, buddies, compadres, sharing laughs, jokes, foibles, failings, everything. We just celebrated our 38th anniversary. We go together...Ah well...I'm tough!

Life has been lots of fun lately. Our daily routine wouldn't inspire too many, but we're having a great time. Dad has worked hard on the yard, the woodpile, the rock wall, the deck, and his menagerie. If you look closely, you'll see that the engineer of this little train is a squirrel. Our yard is filled with squirrels, birds, quails, raccoons, and the occasional cat! All the drama of life acted out in the lives of these little critters. One little guy taught a particularly poignant lesson. We had a rental car for a few days, and we kept hearing an odd sound--over and over and over. It was this small sparrow attacking an enemy who was threatening his family. He was seeing his own reflection in the car's bumper and attacked the "enemy" over and over from dawn until dusk. Dad took the car to the wood pile one day and smeared some dirt on the bumper, so our little guy moved to the side of the car and repeated his agonizing attack. His futile actions reminded me that there are often times in our lives when we attack our problems in the same way as this little father--we cannot move on, and we simply repeat, uselessly, the same solutions that have never worked before. We beat ourselves up over problems we can't solve in a manner that has seemingly worked for us before. We haven't seen our little friend since we returned the rental, so, hopefully, he's moved on. There's great value on in moving on from that which we can't do anything about.

I have found a complication in my life in the form of a quilt for Ethan. I wanted something simple--after all, if I achieve my goal of quilts for all my grandchildren and children in my lifetime, I need to get going. So, I chose a "simple" pattern and have had nothing but trouble with what I've dubbed the rainbow quilt. I've made so many mistakes, picked them out, started again, goofed again, and started over. Now, there is a difference between me and the little daddy bird--each time I've learned a little more, made corrections, and tried again. Many times, I've wanted to just throw away what I've started, but I'd invested too much money in the material, plus my stubborn Kennedy genes wouldn't let me give up. I spent a lot of time getting advice and help from Aunt Joan, my friends, and even your dad. The rainbow quilt is finished and ready to deliver to Ethan. Do you think he'll know that there are so many mistakes in this quilt that it would never pass the critical eye of other quilters, or will the little label that says: "My Grandma Loves Me" be what he remembers??

Sometimes in this grand adventure we call life, there are times when the only real solution is to rid ourselves of the problem. Anyone recognize this hole? It's the old Beachum house which has stood on Maple Avenue for years--never changing, never improving, never making an effort for self-improvement, becoming an eyesore in the neighborhood. Someone finally gave it a decent burial!! I think that's a good way to rid ourselves of some old problems and bad feelings and useless grudges.

Tomorrow I'll get a stamp on my passport and an opportunity to serve, and I'll trust that all of you will remember that your dad is home alone. Pester him with phone calls, prayers, and visits. He and Vale have a busy month planned, and so do I!! I intend to share chicken on a stick with Connor, book talk discussions with Harmony, some art sessions with Ethan, long talks and laughs with Marie, maybe Ben can teach me how to use the WII, some DS adventures with Ivan and cuddles from Mason. I'll sit on Marie's porch in the midst of a tropical storm and remind myself that I am loved, cherished, and still teeth-chatteringly, heart-stoppingly in love with a guy I've only known for 38 years, as eternity stretches before me....Love to you all. Mom

“Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

-Christopher Robin to Pooh

A TRAVELOGUE.....FULFILLING A PROMISE

2009-05-22T04:42:00.000-07:00

In the last few weeks, we've traveled to Idaho--for temple visits and overnight stay with cousins, Peggy and Terry. We enjoyed two huge meals and a visit to "Death Valley," the retirement village where Terry and Peggy have a home!!
Then on to Kanab, Utah, a favorite spot of ours--ask Vale about The Three Bears Bakery. Kanab is known as "Little Hollywood" because many Westerns were filmed in the area!! You can see whose room we stayed in; we swear the pillows are the same ones Maverick slept on!!

Alas, no pictures of our stop in Sedona, AZ to visit Kevin and Debbie and enjoy a huge Southern meal fixed for us by Debbie's stepmom!
Then, to Mesa to visit our favorite Desert Dwellers:

By plane to Champaign, Illinois for the graduation!!

Then, to Springfield, Illinois where we saw flooding, Abraham Lincoln historic sites, and interesting spots along historic Route 66.

W

We returned home to spring in all her glory!!

Yawn...remembering all that traveling makes me sleepy!! We're headed out tomorrow to decorate family graves....yawn...I'd better take a nap! Love from Mom

BLANK PAGE, BLANK MIND

2009-05-10T09:03:00.000-07:00

It really isn't that I have a blank mind, just a mind in random free fall...what, of all that's happened, should I write about??? Well....there's a visit from...drum roll please...our kissin' cousins from North Carolina...the Kennedys. A few months ago, we became acquainted with Dad's cousin and his wife, James and Margaret Kennedy, from Fayetteville, NC. We've been exchanging emails, genealogy info, etc. James' grandfather, Donald, is the brother of Dad's father; but our side of the family never met James because of a divorce. It was so fun to connect when James and Margaret came for a visit. Instant connection, lots of talking, touring, eating...all the ingredients for a warm friendship!!

And there's Grandma's birthday party. A smashing success with lots of wonderful refreshments provided by all the ladies of the family, a nice gathering hosted by Aunt Marian, and a good time had by all.

On our way home, we found these:

We were not very far from the log cabin where Mark and Tricia lived. No, we didn't buy one...this time. I've already asked for an external hard drive for Mother's Day, but we're going to get one or two for our lawn for a 38th wedding anniversary gift. Yes, 38 years together...in June. The man who built these has over 30 birdhouses up in his yard, and we talked with him about our home menageries!!

Today is Mother's Day. I am feeling blessed for the opportunity of being a mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. I'm proud of my daughters and daughters-in-law who face many more challenges than I did as a mother and are rearing my sweet grandchildren and great grands. Many years ago, over thirty now, I dreaded Mother's Day because I had no children, but I soon got over that. Now, I only dread Mother's Day church programs because, in the speakers' praises of the perfect mothers, we real-life, not-so-perfect mothers begin to squirm and feel a bit uncomfortable, remembering our shortcomings...ah well. I'm off to church--late because of a call from Mark, the first who made me a mother, and my makeup's already ruined, and....I love you all. Kiss your babies and your spouses...Love from here. Mom

AHHHH......

2009-04-26T05:59:00.000-07:00

Need I say more about the weeks of work!! It is a beautiful room. The beat now moves outside for yard work!!
I have to tell you Grandma's funny story before I forget. Some of you may not know that Grandma has, for several years, received, almost daily, calls from a collection agency for a Marguerite Kennedy. Being of a generation too polite to be rude, Grandma has always answered the calls and patiently explained that she isn't Marguerite Kennedy. She did tell me that she found out a few years ago, that her birth certificate does have her name misspelled as Margarite Bailey. Recently, these calls have increased to the point of being made three and four times a day and ringing for as long as five minutes, so we took some action and got her on the NoCall database, registered a complaint, and convinced her that it isn't rude to not answer calls from a scam company. Yesterday, she said her phone rang off and on all day long and for several minutes each time. She ignored it for as long as she could. Finally, she picked up the phone and yelled into it, "Why do you keep calling me? I don't know why you keep calling." Just as she was hanging up, she heard a quiet little voice say,"Because....you're my mother...." A little girl had a wrong number. So funny!!

Love to you all from the spoiled lady in her beautiful kitchen!! Mom

'How did it go so fast?' we'll say as we are looking back. And then we'll understand - we held gold dust in our hands" - Tori Amos

THE BEAT GOES ON

2009-04-12T05:27:00.000-07:00

Today is Easter Sunday. It's nearly 6am, and I've been staring at the blank page of my blog for a while. I am usually eager to share the events--mundane as they are--of our week, so that family and friends scattered throughout the world will know that we're still alive, still hanging on, and doing our thing. This week, however, our life seems more mundane than usual. There are no real highs or real lows--just a comfortable moving forward with the projects and prospects of feathering our nest and readying it for the visitors who will grace us with their sweet presence throughout the spring and summer.

I am still sewing and decorating; Dad is hammering and painting. We've gone from this:

To this:

There is still a new counter to be installed on Wednesday and the wall/shelf decorations to be arranged. Some of you will be saddened--hmmm...ha....that the mountain man is no more. He's relegated to guarding the wood pile. Encouraged to know that dad's dog has had a long needed bath, and Molly Bear is not far behind. The refrigerator is doing some rumbling that sounds suspiciously like a death rattle, but....we're moving on--outdoors...to lawn projects and unburdening the gazebo of its winter storage of garden rocks, lawn furniture, and empty flower pots.

We have forgone the chocolate Easter bunnies, baskets, and colored eggs side of Easter this year for the sake of our health and our waistlines. Wait...there were those Cadbury eggs at our class the other night...

However the real reason for the season has not been ignored, and we have been moved and uplifted by a recent Easter message from Jeffrey R. Holland, one of the general authorities of our Church. Elder Holland's is posted many places on the internet. I, however, haven't figured out how to post the video of his talk on my blog, but you can watch/listen to the full text at: http://www.fromthedust.org/2009/04/10/mormon-messages-none-were-with-him-jeffrey-r-holland/ In this world of so much turmoil and chaos, his words were especially relevant and moving. My favorite part is this:

With all the conviction of my soul I testify that He did please His Father perfectly and that a perfect Father did not forsake His Son in that hour. Indeed, it is my personal belief that in all of Christ’s mortal ministry the Father may never have been closer to His Son than in these agonizing final moments of suffering. Nevertheless, that the supreme sacrifice of His Son might be as complete as it was voluntary and solitary, the Father briefly withdrew from Jesus the comfort of His Spirit, the support of His personal presence. It was required; indeed it was central to the significance of the Atonement, that this perfect Son who had never spoken ill nor done wrong nor touched an unclean thing had to know how the rest of humankind—us, all of us—would feel when we did commit such sins. For His Atonement to be infinite and eternal, He had to feel what it was like to die not only physically but spiritually, to sense what it was like to have the divine Spirit withdraw, leaving one feeling totally, abjectly, hopelessly alone.
But Jesus held on. He pressed on. The goodness in Him allowed faith to triumph even in a state of complete anguish. The trust He lived by told Him in spite of His feelings that divine compassion is never absent, that God is always faithful, that He never flees nor fails us. When the uttermost farthing had then been paid, when Christ’s determination to be faithful was as obvious as it was utterly invincible, finally and mercifully, it was “finished.” Against all odds and with none to help or uphold Him, Jesus of Nazareth, the living Son of the living God, restored physical life where death had held sway and brought joyful, spiritual redemption out of sin, hellish darkness and despair. With faith in the God He knew was there, He could say in triumph, “Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.”
Brothers and sisters, one of the great consolations of this Easter season is that because Jesus walked such a long, lonely path utterly alone, we do not have to do so. His solitary journey brought great company for our little version of that path—the merciful care of our Father in Heaven, the unfailing companionship of this Beloved Son, the consummate gift of the Holy Ghost, angels in heaven, family members on both sides of the veil, prophets and apostles, teachers, leaders, friends. All of these and more have been given as companions for our mortal journey because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the Restoration of His gospel. Trumpeted from the summit of Calvary is the truth that we will never be left alone nor unaided, even if sometimes we may feel that we are. Truly the Redeemer of us all said, “I will not leave you comfortless. [My Father and] I will come to you [and abide with you].”

For all of you whom I love so much, remember that I am one of those family members, friends, companions who was given as your companion for your mortal journey. I don't have much in a material way, but...I have total and absolute faith--unwavering and well-tested. in the existence of God, in His power to hold us in the hollow of His hand and guide us through this frail existence. I can pray for you and with you; I can listen, hold your hand, and give you a swift kick if that's what you need!! I will always be here...lowly servant that I am. All my love, Mom

IT TAKES TWO

2009-04-04T15:40:00.000-07:00

After about an hour of pinning 4.5x2.5 rectangles together to make patchwork rows for Ethan's quilt, I decided to give my weary neck a rest and took a break. I went to check on Dad who was happily wrapped in the cocoon of his blanket, dreaming, I'm sure, of how to finish the kitchen project! I had on my mind a lady in my exercise class with whom I have only a nodding acquaintance. She's in my prayers because she recently lost her fiance. He proposed to her and gave her a ring on Monday and died of a sudden heart attack brought on, they say, by the sound of the snapping of a large tree in his front yard. This isn't the first time Gail has received such a loss. Her first husband died a long and lingering death some years ago, and a man who courted her after her husband's death also gave her a ring and then died the next day. One of the exercise ladies said, "I wonder how she can put one foot in front of the other." Indeed. Her plight reminds me how fragile life is. How one needs to enjoy and relish each and every moment with a loved one--especially a spouse. Dad is a popular fellow at the senior citizens' center we sometimes go to. He's always outgoing and friendly, mobile, and still a handsome, vigorous man at 70. (No wonder this guy still makes my heart leap!) He's most often asked, "Do you dance?" "Only with my wife." "Oh," they say glumly as they look over at me. The song lyrics, "It takes two, Babe" often come to my mind when we venture into that lair!

It took two--Thomas and Margaret Olive Bailey Kennedy--to produce this large progeny. Cousin Peggy recently presented Grandma with this prototype of a wall hanging that she's making for her. Blue slips are children and spouses, yellow are grandchildren, green are great-grandchildren, and pink are great-great. Grandma's 101st descendant--Drake Douglas Sturges was born a few days/weeks ago.

It takes two to do kitchen projects. When we're working on projects, there are clearly defined roles. As you can see Dad has the bulk of the work! He's sanded down and painted and worked very hard on a new look. I am in charge of the bling--clearing out the kitchen cabinets, decorating, making the McDonald's runs for sustenance, and staying out of the way.

My job was to line the shelves with shelf liner. Don't you love the sweet little chickens? As you can see, the project didn't go well since I started it while Dad was in The Dalles picking up more supplies. I measured, re-measured, lined up, etc. I even braved standing on the footstool to get the shelf paper on straight!! I would have cussed some too, but I'm trying to be good. To no avail--my results are clearly picture above. Dad came home to the disaster, held one end of the paper while I held the other, and we finished papering the shelves--it took two!

And we have two April birthdays!! Mr. Wyatt turns two on income tax day! He thinks he's three or maybe even four, so don't spoil his illusion. In this picture, he's wearing his "fire coat" made by his Grandma Niehoff. He doesn't take this coat off!!
Birthday girl, Taylor, is a sweetheart. She turns four. Like most little girls, Taylor is a princess and a thinker.

Life is good for us right now. All is well. Grandma is doing quite well, and everyone in the family seems to be truckin' along. We have everything money can't buy!! Love from the home front. Mom

"Grace is God's acceptance of me. Faith is my acceptance of God's acceptance of me. Peace is my acceptance of me." Robert Millett

IT MUST BE SPRING--WE'RE IN PROJECT MODE

2009-03-19T13:48:00.001-07:00

Spring is within our range of vision. White Salmon is putting on her Spring colors. Today we did a survey of the front yard and were dismayed to see that we've lost a few rhododendrons and some shrubbery to the destruction of winter weather. The plants have served us well, and we'll find new plants in their honor.

I'm sure you're wondering what on earth I am doing showing a picture of grocery sacks. Believe it or not, they're a tribute to my sister who is leaving for a church mission a week from today. My sister is a pack rat and a gadget girl when it comes to sewing, specifically quilting. She has every gadget ever invented that is designed to make sewing easier. She has a sewing room filled with gidgets and gadgets, books, baskets, and lots of projects in embryo!! Second only to her family, Joan is going to miss this hodge podge world of sewing projects. She's made dozens and dozens of quilts, table runners, pictures for everyone, and typical of most quilters, she doesn't have any of her own creations for herself!! She generously walked me into her sewing sanctuary and said, "Take whatever you want." The result is the bags; I took what I thought I would need. At one point, we were examining a drawer labeled "Miscellaneous." Joan had forgotten the exact use for some of the gadgets, so we had a hearty laugh over the possible uses we could put them to. As I hauled out my full bags of sewing gidgets and gadgets, I was reminded of my mother. For years after we girls were married and had families of our own, Mother always had a pile of "finds" for us to take home each time we came. If Mother found a sale on toothpaste, she bought three--one for each of us. Mother often shopped at the "Big Store" for us. Her long-time boyfriend was the local garbage man, and he brought her his finds!! I will miss my sister! I know that it is important for her to go off and serve the Lord; a senior mission is an experience not to be missed. I will have her presence through emails, facebook, and blogs; it's her physical presence I will miss. No one who isn't a twin understands the bond that exists between twins. Bon Voyage, Joan. Have fun and bring me back an east coast gidget or gadget or two.

My picture is blurry, but you get the gist of the picture--the kitchen cabinets are now empty. Kitchen bling is in the dining room as we start working on some long needed projects--painting, new cabinet doors, new counter. Notice that I filled the kitchen table as full as I could get it. Hmmm....I guess we'll just have to eat out this week...Oh, darn!
I'm exercising in a senior citizens class. I'm the youngest in the class. It's a kick.
Dad took this picture of his squirrels' tenacity in acquiring Dad's delicacies. They've chewed through the hard, hard plastic handles to get more!!
Life right now is busy, fulfilling, and a might exhausting--just the way life should be. Hope it's the same for all of you. Love, Mom

The task ahead of us is never as great as the Power behind us.

OOPS!!

2009-03-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

Last night, Darla called to tell me that I owed her $700 in telephone calls. Oops! Darla graciously allows us to be on her cell phone account, and I'd checked with her concerning free long distance calls from Guam. Yes, she had free long distance, etc, etc. So, Dad and I had leisurely phone conversations as I watched geckos scurry along Marie's walls, Joan and I discussed quilts, etc. from the Honolulu Airport; Darla kept me royally entertained with Vale stories during my long layovers....Oops! Now, I have a debt to repay and our long-planned kitchen counter replacement project will have to be postponed.
I've been thinking about the Oopses that sometimes seem to pepper our lives. Although most of them aren't serious, many of our blunders affect our temperament for the day, our pocketbook, perhaps our friendships. Here are a few of my Oopses of late:
In a recent blog post, I stated that Spring had come to the Gorge. Almost every day since that post, it's snowed!! It's a piddling snow, a kind of I-didn't-really-want-to-do-this, but...kind of snow that blankets the earth but isn't serious enough to cause any problems for motorists or serious walkers. Frankly, we need the moisture of the snow, so we aren't faced with a summer of drought as we've had in the past.

Another Oops is the gorgeous poinsettias that filled our house at Christmas time. Vale bought me some Water Globes as a Christmas gift to help with the watering of the plants in the house, but the poinsettias dwindled down and down and and finally gave up the ghost when I abandoned them for the sunny climes of Guam and forgot to fill the globes. I should have taken them with me!!

In the same blog in which I mentioned springtime in the Gorge, I included a picture of the Gorge. Dad pointed out to me that the picture I posted is actually the view from Grandma Kennedy's house in Bremerton! Oops! If you look closely at the picture of Grandma and me on that blog, you'll see the same view out the window. So here are some pictures of the real Gorge in all its springtime brown-ness!!

I'm still working on Ethan's quilt. Quilting is, at its worst, a tedious business. Ethan's quilt is called a pieced quilt, in which hundreds of pieces, large and small, are sewn together to make the whole. Ethan's quilt is composed of hundreds of rectangles. The rectangles are 4.5" x 2.5." Once I sew the rectangles together, I have to "square up" the rows. I'm not sure my picture's clear enough, but, hopefully, you can see that I got a little carried away with my "squaring up!" Another Oops!

I have plenty of fabric, so I can replace these shortened rectangles and go on, but in the era of our grandmothers and great-grandmothers, fabric was very dear and hard to acquire, so such an Oops could have spelled disaster for a quilter. Most quilters call such mistakes as these--creative opportunities and find a way to re-design the quilt to hide the goof and go on!

When these Oopses stop me for brief times, I am reminded of my father's favorite saying: the AA motto called the Serenity Prayer: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. It is an imperative in one's life not to allow the Oopses to be blown up out of proportion and to become the means of paralyzing or ruining one's perspective.

Taking out some Oops stitches, Love, Mom

I've learned.. That everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it. Andy Rooney

LIFE'S STUFF

2009-03-02T17:13:00.000-08:00

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he has been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just like people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, and most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is just like an old time rail journey ... delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride." — Gordon B. Hinckley

This has been a few weeks of just the normal, every day "stuff" of life. The delays, sidetracks, beautiful vistas of every day life. Hence, the title of my blog.

Grandma, who's heard various relatives talking about their blogs and facebook/youtube accounts, is introduced to the internet. Her conclusion: "I wasn't meant to live in this century!"
Spring is coming slowly to the Gorge. To me, the month of February is sort of the ugly duckling phase of life here. However, the days now are wonderful. After stewing inside for a few weeks due to a cold and the bad weather, Dad is in heaven--outside with his rocks, roses, and birds.

The Gorge is experiencing the same economic decline as the rest of the nation. A few months ago, the Columbia Gorge Hotel closed its doors, declaring bankruptcy and waffling out on paying their employees. The saddest sight is that the beautifully manicured grounds are already deteriorating!

We are still teaching our Institute class. This is the smallest group we've had all quarter. The two on the right are mother and daughter, and the young man is a security guard from Goldendale.

Grandma is hanging in there. As the cane in the background attests, she is having trouble moving around. Remember that she is quite confined to her little apartment. She would love a phone call, a card, a picture!!

Michelle says that this picture makes her want to throw up! I couldn't agree more!! The pilot of this Coast Guard boat is Steve!!

Dad and I have been attending some of the senior citizen luncheons to give our friend, Andre, some moral support. We're some of the youngest senior citizens there, and Dad is often asked to dance, so it's a kick for me to watch him squirm his way out of such invitations. The lady at the mike is singing a beautiful love song to her sweetheart on their 50th anniversary!

The little guys are Wyatt and Kahlil with their Grandma Niehoff. Tom tells me that the boys like costumes; hence, Kahlil's snowboarder googles and outfit and Wyatt's hockey jersey. In order to "play" being a snowboarder, Kahlil must don this full regalia and Wyatt does the same. Interestingly enough, I had a conversation about Kobe's need to don his Indiana Jones hat and whip in order to play Indiana Jones. Oh, does that bring back memories of their fathers doing exactly the same thing.

Life's "stuff" is what gives us subject matter for blogs, stories to share with others, inner comfort on a rainy day, and reminds us that President Hinckley is right--we must be thankful for the ride. I am! What a rich and wonderful life we have. Hope you're letting the "stuff" of your life give you pleasure and HOPE. Love, Mom

Mark Twain said, "There is never yet an uninteresting life. such a thing is an impossibility. Inside the dullest exterior, there is a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy."

A LIFE WELL-LIVED

2009-02-22T08:19:00.000-08:00

I am not usually highly incensed or deeply offended any more by the vagaries of the liberal press, but when I read this comment recently on the msn.com website, I became highly incensed!! "When asked whom they admired enough to call their heroes, a cross-section of over 2,500 adult Americans mentioned President Barack Obama most often. Jesus Christ and Martin Luther King came in second and third, respectively." Perhaps I reacted to the banality of this poll and the stupidity of 3000 people who consider a politician their hero because a true hero just left this earth.

Etta Louise Smith departed this earth on February 18th at the age of ninety. She has well over 100 descendants--well over. As far as I know, Etta had very, very little of this earth's riches. She lived in a ramshackle little house, earned no real income, drove no car, wore no fancy clothes. She was a plain-looking, soft-spoken Southern lady. She will never make any of the world's fancy lists for hero-ship. Not many people outside our small community or her own family will even mourn that a 90 year old woman has passed from this earth, but Barak Obama, Bill Clinton, movie stars, and glitzy people of all stripes and sorts cannot hold a candle to Etta Louise Smith!

Etta was a true and wonderful Christian; she made her simple life count!! She knew no stranger--greeting everyone who came through the church door with a handshake or a hug. The tallest teenager, tiniest baby, or crippled senior deserved Etta's attention and ministrations. Although she had no college education, Etta knew the scriptures thoroughly and could tell Bible stories with great accuracy and minute detail. She often shared personal stories of her conversion and her struggles in life to uplift and encourage others. Her compassionate service knew no bounds; Etta could always be counted on for a casserole dish, a phone call, or a visit. Etta was devoted to her large family and lightened their burdens when she could. Every year she made treasured, beaded Christmas ornaments for her descendants. I, personally, loved to hear her laugh. Her laugh was infectious and from the depths of her loving soul. One young person said, "I never called her Mrs. Smith or Sister Smith; she was always Grandma Smith." Indeed, she was. She grandmothered us all, regardless of our age!

If someone asks me who my hero is, my hero will not be a politician or a movie star or even the world's richest man, it will be a salt-of-the-earth, come-sit-with-me-and-I'll-give-all-that-I-have saint like Etta Smith.

TRIPPING ALONG

2009-02-20T11:23:00.001-08:00

The dream trip is ended, and on this lazy Friday I am suffering from jet lag, but, for those who asked and for the sake of my journal, here's a recap: Early am of February 9th, I was at the Portland airport, waiting to board the plane for Hawaii. On the Portland to Hawaii leg, I sat with a young father and his four-year old. The loving father of four was particularly tender with his little boy. On the Hawaii to Guam leg, I sat with a 20 something Guamanian girl and a little Guamanian seven year old who clued me in on life in Guam.

Ethan tells me he loves Plumeria Street where they live in Guam!! Well he should. Plumeria Street teems with kids, bikes, trikes, a few dogs, busy traffic, and a guard to keep all in order.

I certainly felt my mother's presence as I took in the beauty and aroma of the many beautiful blooming plants in Guam. These are, I believe, coleus in Marie's front lawn.

If you squint at the far left corner of the brown wall, you'll see a big cluster of green bananas!!

This hill is behind Marie's apartment, and I had the experience of climbing it a couple of times, chasing Ivan!!

Unlike the many varieties of palm trees we saw in California, these trees in Marie's backyard sport coconuts!

This was my greeting in Marie's dining room. "Hafa Adai," pronounced Half-a-day, is the welcome greeting in Guam. The joke is that mainlanders aren't sure if it's a greeting or a warning of how long one will be able to work in the hot sun of Guam. I had told Ethan to remind me to take a picture of this blackboard before I left, and, if you'll look closely in the bottom left hand corner, you'll see that he did just that!

Since there are so many Japanese tourists in Guam, most stores had bilingual signs.

I never could get a picture that really captured the color of the water in the bays and inlets in Guam. I think the color of the water is what gave birth to the term "aquamarine."

I read several accounts of the latte stones of Guam. Historians aren't sure of their use, but they are found all over the island. There are also many, many replicas as well. It is believed that the original stones were used as foundations for the Guamanian homes.

The history of Guam is greatly tied in with the affairs of the US during WWII; that's why it is a US possession today. Many bombing raids were launched from Guam to Japan and later to Viet nam. I'm not sure if Guam was ever bombed, but I assume so. This house looked like it had been bombed to me.

This picture was in the the area of Talafofo Falls. We drove all around a beautiful scenic area of Guam on a Sunday afternoon. Around the area of Talafofo Falls is a cave where a Japanese soldier by the name of Yokoi Soichi lived for 27 years. Soichi and two companions refused to surrender to the Americans and hid in the cave. Although the two companions died, Soichi kept himself alive and hidden until 1972!! He later became a popular television personality and advocate of frugal living, dying in 1997.

The buzz word in Guam is "boonie." Whenever someone wants to get rid of a car, he merely pushes it off to the side of the road and allows the jungle to swallow it. There are "boonie" dogs left abandoned by their owners who have been re-assigned to the mainland. "Boonie" homes were the saddest sight. Although the island is known as a resort island with huge resorts, casinos, massage parlors, girls who "look white," etc., there is great poverty as well. Some Guamanians live in "boonie houses that are plywood shacks, cardboard boxes, etc. I saw one "boonie" home which was an ancient rusted out boxcar with a brand new SUV parked in the driveway.

The main purpose of my visit was to visit with Marie's family, and I got in on several fun events. February is birthday month for Ben, Connor, and Ivan. There was also a special day for Girl Scouts for Harmony. I enjoyed so much all my time with the kids.

On my final day in Guam, we visited an open air market called the Chamarrow Village. What fun. We had been trying to spot an old man who walks his caribou along the main road in Guam every day, but never did spot him. However, we found this guy in the village. Connor really wanted me to try chicken on a stick. So, I did. I tried to get a picture of the imaginative hair do of the guy cooking our chicken. You can barely see him in the background.

Coconuts

Journey's over. Back in the Portland airport grinning for my sweetheart's too revealing camera. Wonderful time. Wonderful memories. Love You All, Mom

AQUARIANS, FAT BIRDS, AND SWEETHEARTS

2009-02-03T03:27:00.000-08:00

My mind has turned once again to family--especially in February!! We have so many birthday babies on our calendar. Actually, my mind is almost always on family and friends.

Just a small tribute to my dad. He is the little boy on the left in this picture. The other two brothers are Cy in the middle and Jack. Daddy would have been 89 this year. Grandpa was an extremely sensitive man; he cried at the drop of hat. I still remember finding myself a seat where I could watch him watch the Friday night fights. His air punches, mouth-gyrations, and obscenities were far more entertaining than Cassius Clay! He was self-educated. Because of the great Depression, he never graduated, but he loved to read. I remember him reading few novels, but he read the newspaper, Readers Digest, etc. Although a shy man, he was, in the later years of his life, able to pursue a career he'd dreamed of as a barber.

Ivan turns 4. Ya gotta love that crooked little smile. Ivan is a Lego guy. He spends countless hours building his own creations or getting his big brothers to build them for him. He provides lots of fodder for his mama's blog through his entertaining antics.

Brenna will be 5 this year. Brenna is an artist, an imaginative, loving little girl. She asks lots of questions of her ever-patient mom.

Connor is our 7 year old. He's also a Lego guy, whose greatest goal is to work at Legoland someday. He's also a Cub Scout now--shown here on a fishing trip with fellow Scouts.

Ben is over-the-hill slightly. He's a career Navy man, a builder of Lego projects for the boys, a builder of his own projects as well. When I asked Marie what Ben would like for his birthday, she said, "A gift card for Home Depot!"

Nicole is not quite over the hill but chugging right along. She's so busy with her boys, her husband, part-time jobs, her herbs and garden, and her internship as a midwife that I wonder if she takes enough time for herself.

I can't believe Mark's age this year. I usually think of him as a little boy in a cowboy suit telling me the plot of "Freebie and the Bean!" He's still doing his writing and research in the vast desert of Saudi.

February is also the month of sweethearts and love, and I couldn't blog this week without paying tribute to my eternal sweetheart.

Dad and I have such a good time together. For the first time that I can remember, we aren't going to be together on Valentines' Day, so we'll celebrate early. We're taking advantage of our Christmas gift from Mark and Jennifer to have a nice dinner at the Columbia Gorge Hotel. But, we don't need fancy cards or dinners to remind us of our love for each other. I once had a locket that had Dad's picture in it, and a little girl in the ward would constantly ask if she could look in my locket at my bee-you-tiful husband. He is a bee-you-tiful man! Dad is such a thoughtful, protective, kind man that I'm told every minute of every day how much he loves and cherishes me by his every act and deed. In many, many ways our love has deepened as we've been able to spend so much time together in our retirement. We are so funny. We have this great big house, three televisions, our own "study/sewing rooms;" yet we spend every evening cuddled together on the love seat in the family room!! Ah love, ain't it grand??
I'm getting ready for my trip to Guam. I admit to being nervous about venturing out on my own. This is the longest I've ever been away from Dad and the longest distance I've ever gone. I'm apprehensive about layovers, Honolulu Airport, etc., but I won't miss this for the world. I'm anxious to see Marie and her family and to deliver all the goodies that await some grandkids. You see them here packed into my new blue duffle. Lest others are too jealous, this bag is full of items that Marie's requested that they can't get.

I'm working on Grandkid Quilt #5 for Mr. Ethan. Here's a small part of the quilt. It's a rainbow, crazy quilt where every row--forward, backward, up and down has the ROYGBIV colors of the rainbow. DeAnne, Harmony, and Ethan all have some of the same pieces of fabric in their quilts, many of them from Grandma Whitby's stash.

Dad has been doing mostly projects outside, but, most recently he installed a new shelf for the microwave above our new stove.
He's still feeding the birds. The quail are so fat they can barely waddle or fly, but, oh do they love Dad!!
All is well here. Happy Birthday to our Aquarians, Love and Kisses to my lover, and Bon Voyage to me. I'll blog when I get back. Love, Mom

"Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game."

GRANDFATHER CUTS LOOSE THE PONIES

2009-01-24T08:18:00.000-08:00

My thoughts have been on little boys today. What a pleasure it is to have children and grandchildren and a great-grand or two sprinkled in as well. I love all my grandchildren and think of them and pray for them constantly, but three of them have distinguished themselves this week in my reminiscences. The first is TJ--Thomas Jordan Jensen. TJ is ten, and he is becoming quite a wonderful young man. During my recent visit, I enjoyed TJ's quick wit, and I witnessed a sweet expression of TJ's compassion and sense of humor. I was at one end of the kitchen table clipping coupons, Toby, TJ's four year old brother, at the other building a lego airplane. (As you can see from the picture above, the Jensen men are gadget guys. The Eiffel Tower was built by dad, Eric.) TJ sat in the middle playing with his transformers. Toby was talking to me in a non-stop chattering that I was having a hard time following and responding to. TJ advised, "Just say um-huh and Yeah a few times, and he'll think you understand what he says." I wondered how many times TJ has had to say Um huh and Yeah as he's patiently listened to his little brother!! Suddenly, Toby burst into tears, having just discovered that Mom and Dad were gone, and he was alone with Grandma, who, at that point in our visit, was not his favorite person. No amount of hugs and kisses would persuade him that I was his friend! TJ tenderly took Toby's hand, leading him upstairs to the comfort of his favorite movie. Maturity and compassion in a ten year old!!

I thought of Vale, our twelve-year-old grandson, when we pulled into this mini-mart in Toppenish during a recent visit to my sister. The store is located on the Yakama Indian reservation and is rather non-descript when you approach it from this angle. When Vale was about three, he and I made a trip to Aunt Joan's and stopped at the Yakamart. Vale informed me that he'd been here before, but I was sure he'd been too little to remember any earlier trips. "No, no, Grandma," he stubbornly replied. "It wasn't a store then. I was here in my other life when I was an Indian warrior, and this was a field where I was taking care of my grandfather. He was the Indian chief, and he was dying. I fought for him." A lot to ponder, since Vale really had no way of knowing that this station is on the reservation.

As you drive around the Yakamart, the depictions of life among the Yakama Indians cover every wall of the building. Hmmm...On that particular trip, I took Vale to see this impressive monument:

According to an article in "The Oregonian" by Terry Richard, hundreds of drivers traveling on busy I-90, near the Vantage Bridge over the Columbia River, have seen the rusted steel, life-size sculpture of 15 wild horses (1989) on a ridge above the Columbia River. The 200-foot line of life-size charging horses captures a mystical spirit from a time when real wild horses roamed the steppes. However few realize the horses are only half the sculpture planned by the artist, 57-year-old David Govedare of Chewelah, Washington. Govedare had plans from his conception of the sculpture to add a "great basket" to illustrate his vision of Grandfather (the Great Spirit) spilling wild ponies out of the basket as a gift to the planet.

Vale proceeded to tell me all about these ponies. "They're spirit ponies--see they don't have all their bodies. Heavenly Father gave them to us so we would have their help." Wisdom from a three-year-old!!

We witnessed a winter dusting of frost on Satus Pass when we came home from Joan's. A reminder that it is not yet Spring, and Old Man Winter was warning us that he isn't through with us yet!! As I write this blog, a new winter storm is drifting our way in spurts and fits. I'm counting the days until I wing my way to Guam!!

We are well. Life is very comfortable for us at this point in our lives. We laugh a lot; cuddle a lot, and remind ourselves of all that we have at the hands of a Beneficent God. Hope all of you are counting the "spirit horses" God has given you. Cheers. Mom

WHAT CAN ONE WRITE ABOUT ON A COLD JANUARY DAY?

2009-01-21T13:17:00.000-08:00

One could write about grandbabies. Here's a funny picture of Miss Julianna at about 3am when she was supposed to be ASLEEP for Grandma. I exaggerate--it was nearly midnight, but it felt like 3am to this old lady. I had a wonderful vacation at Susan's with their family. I missed many Kodak moments because I couldn't get off the couch with Julianna and find my camera fast enough. I also had a dress rehearsal for traveling by myself, and I did great. I think I can handle my trip to Guam, but, if anyone has some advice for traveling by myself and for what to bring along, feel free to let me know.

Or one could write about missing an important birthday for January. Our Ann Margaret was born in January; in fact, on this day in 1981. She would be celebrating her 28th birthday. We have only one tiny picture of Annie which can't be copied very well because Grandma W. used a camera with tiny negatives. This lack is a real lesson for all of us. TAKE PICTURES! Cameras and, particularly, film is cheap nowadays, and pictures of loved ones are priceless.

Another opportunity for a cold January day entry is Dad's love for his critters--birds, squirrels, quails...I tried to get some pictures this morning as he faithfully filled the many bird feeders around the yard, but they were too blurred. About a week ago, we were standing in the kitchen watching the fat little quails waddling around the yard, barely able to walk, when a huge hawk swooped down and grabbed one. The swoop was so instantaneous that all we could do was scream and yell. Fortunately for the little quail, the hawk was thrown off balance and fell to the ground, losing the quail. Hooray!! In fact, Dad even confided that he may have found a good substitute for the dog he's been wanting for the last few years. These critters don't have to be babysat if one wants to go off for a small vacation, and they don't bother the neighbors or foul up the yard.

So, life is calm and quiet for us. The snow is gone, but it's cold and very windy. We're hearing there's a snowstorm coming in on Sunday. We're so grateful for all of our blessings and pray for each of you!! Keep your sunny side up!! Love You, Mom

"Life is like a Rolls-Royce on a rocky country road, it's full of bounces and lurches, but you can't really complain about the seat."

January Birthdays, Trees of Life, Quilts, and Deaths

2009-01-10T06:44:00.000-08:00

January Birthdays is actually a misnomer. There's only one family birthday: Heather's. Heather turns seven. All of us enjoy this sweet, outgoing little charmer. If you haven't read her blog, it's http://heatherchoosestheright.blogspot.com/. Especially read the wonderful entry called Story!! (You'll need to contact Susan for a password for Heather's blog.) Heather is also a budding book reviewer. See her very first book review at: http://blogginboutbooks.blogspot.com/

Trees of Life is the Mutual activity that Dad and I helped out on for New Year's Eve. In spite of being "murdered"???(I think he didn't understand the whole Book of Mormon Tree of Life analogy), Vale made it blindfolded through the great and spacious building,taunting from "the world," and mists of darkness by holding onto the rod of iron. He met Grandpa and Grandma at the Tree of Life!! If Vale's reaction is even a tiny, tiny reflection of what our greetings from loved ones will be in the hereafter, it will be worth being good. He was so glad to see us.

Quilts After months--maybe six--Harmony's quilt is winging its way to Guam. Grandchild number four's quilt is done. Ethan's is next; then Heather's. Both of those are in the planning stages!! Remember, this Grandkid Quilt Project is as much or, maybe more, fun for me than for the kids.

Death of an old friend. Our otherwise quiet winter days have been disturbed by the demise of an old, faithful friend--the kitchen stove. We figure that the stove is 20 years old, so old that there are no replaceable parts!! We're waiting three weeks for our chosen new stove to go on sale. The refrigerator is now rumbling, rumbling...will it leave us soon??

All around us, we hear of illness, difficulties, and financial woes. For those remember her, Mandy Richerson died a few days ago after a long battle with cancer. BUT, Dad and I are doing well. In fact, my big news is that, thanks to Dad and Ben and Marie, a trip to Guam is my Valentines' Day present!! It's almost too much for my old heart--Thursday I leave for Mesa to spend some time with Susan and family; then February 9, I'll get to see Marie and family!! I wonder where my summer clothes are!!? Off to pack. Love You All, Mom

My dear grandma used to say, because she was a bit of a worry wart herself, that "I know that worrying works, because 99 percent of the things I worry about never happen"

MUSINGS

2008-12-29T10:28:00.000-08:00

We have Witnessed a Miracle

During the Christmas holidays, I had a wonderful experience—the kind that every retired teacher wants to have. We had gone to Portland for a wedding reception, and we had just entered a restaurant for dinner when I heard someone call my name. Here stood two of my former Columbia High School students!! I barely recognized them. They had been my students about eight years ago, and both of them had been addicted to alcohol, drugs, and nicotine. Their ambition in life was to go live on the reservation in New Mexico because alcohol and cigarettes were cheaper there. The young man designed exquisite jewelry, and they felt that they could set up one of those roadside shacks to earn cigarette money. But, here they were, eight years later, clean and smiling with two beautiful children. He is a sous chef in a restaurant, and she cares for the elderly in a nursing home. They said, “We really did listen to you, Mrs. Kennedy.” I would never have known. They didn’t look like they listened!! As you can imagine, it made my day!
I told Tom that I didn’t want to give a talk about New Year’s resolutions, but I’ve decided, after this experience with former students, that I do want to share with you some of the changes I want to make in myself for next year. Maybe, by my announcing them publicly, I will work more diligently on them, and you can remind me when I’m not working as diligently as I should .
My first resolution is to continue to do my assignment as a called temple patron. In September, Barbara Clack, Barbara Matosich, Donna Marx, and I accepted an assignment from the bishop to attend the temple once a week. It is not a calling, and there are times when it is not what I want to do with my day, and I’m tempted to stay home in bed. I have to admit, it is the most fun way to fulfill a church calling that I’ve had in a long time!! We leave at 7:30, and we’re completely oblivious to the traffic because we’re so busy talking. We attend two endowment sessions, have a nice lunch in the temple, do some initiatories, and then head home. We top off our trip with soft ice cream cones from McDonald’s. Now, don’t get me wrong, we are very serious about our assignment. When we’re in the temple, we have spiritual experiences as well. We’re all business as we do service for those who cannot help themselves, and we reap as many benefits as they do. If you have female names for which you need initiatories or endowments done, please contact us and please join us if you can.
My second resolution is to be more open to the spirit and the promptings of the Lord. All of us have been given the gift of the Holy Ghost to prompt us to do good works, but I’m sometimes so caught up in what I’m doing for myself that I don’t listen. On the rare occasions that I do take the time to listen, I have some fantastic experiences that are for my own edification. When we were on our mission in LaJolla, I was walking past the director’s office, when I heard the most pitiful sobbing. The director came out of his office, looking totally at a loss as to what to do. We hadn’t been on our mission very long, and he didn’t know us very well, but he asked if I could try to comfort this girl, whom I’d never seen until that moment. She was in the throes of an anxiety attack. A senior at UCSD, she had only one year to finish her degree, but she had lost her tutor. This was a problem because she had a severe learning disability and required a reader and writer to help her with her course work. I was hesitant to volunteer to help because her major was international political studies—not my strong suit, but, for once, I listened to the prompting, which said, “Do this. This is what a mission is all about!” You’ve guessed the rest. We spent hours upon hours upon hours—studying very hard, laughing, crying, praying together to get Lesha through school. It was truly a time when the student taught the teacher.
Another resolution is to be more willing to be of service to others. The summer we returned from LaJolla, I had a sweet awakening regarding service that I’d like to share. This is what I wrote to my sister about the project: “Our compassionate service project proved to be quite an experience. There were Barbara Matosich, Dottie Niemela and I in one car, and Tom and Vale in the other. You probably recognize those two names. Barbara and Dottie are probably my two oldest and dearest friends. We laughed and chattered all the way up the highway, got lost several times, and finally found the house. Oh my gosh. It was a home out of "Grapes of Wrath." A mountain of garbage bags, dogs, cats, a rabbit or two, an ancient RV pulled beside an old trailer and next to that an old, old truck with a long bed. He was using a walker, filthy dirty, and she, who suffered from a bad back, was obese and had long, stringy hair. They were both mentally challenged. Bless Barbara's heart; she's the RS President, and she forged right ahead. They were so grateful to have us there. They'd had no water or electricity for days. Their old trailer had three bedrooms and two bathrooms--all filled with "stuff," dusty, dirty, garage sale "stuff" piled high in every nook and cranny of every room. There were mouse droppings, cat hairs, dirt, and grime everywhere. The stench was horrible, but we were committed. We worked solidly for 2 1/2 hours and hauled out everything we could. Tom and Vale stayed outside taking boxes and furniture as we handed it to them to load into the truck, which seemed to sag every time they set a box down, and we three ladies packed and cleaned. It was just the saddest sight I have ever witnessed. She had lots of cleaning supplies, so you know that she had the desire, but maybe not the knowledge to clean. The fellow told us that they'd called another church to ask for help, and they'd come out to evaluate whether they could do so or not. He said, "They went through our stuff and said that none of it was worth moving, so they couldn't help us. It made us feel about two inches tall." Their stuff certainly wasn't worth moving, but it was all they had.
She said, "There's a lot mouse @&* around here," and I said, "I can handle that, but, if I see a mouse, you may hear me scream." She handed me a mangy old cat she had been petting and said, "Throw this cat at it; she's a good mouser!" Gulp... I would say they were in their mid-fifties. I know they were going to live in the RV, but I don't think they had a place to park the RV. Supposedly they had a storage unit rented for their stuff, but I find that hard to believe because we've been looking for storage units for a few weeks now. What was fascinating about the whole thing was that she knew what everything was, and she valued every bit of it!! She had lots of craft stuff. Vale was the cutest of all. After it was all over, and we were covered, head to toe in grease, grime, and mouse droppings, I said, "How would you like to live like that?" He was oblivious to all of it. He'd worked as hard as any of us, and he'd enjoyed all the dogs, cats, excitement, etc. He said, "I've always kind of wanted to live in an RV." Perspective is everything!
In thinking of Vale’s wonderful perspective on service, let me share another from the writing of my daughter, Susan. Susan and her family recently adopted a biracial baby who was born in Louisiana. The adoption was handled by a lawyer, and Susan had been told that the mother was a rather promiscuous young girl who didn’t know for sure who the father was and who certainly didn’t want or didn’t care about the baby. However, she wrote: The next day, we headed to the lawyer's office. We were both pretty bleary-eyed thanks to a wild night with the baby, but we were anxious to get all the paperwork out of the way. We were also excited to meet Julianna's birthmom, who decided at the last minute that she did want to meet us after all. What could have been a very awkward meeting with her turned out to be one of the most amazing and uplifting experiences of my life. After asking and answering questions, snapping photos, and admiring Julianna, it was time to say goodbye. As I hugged the birth mom, she whispered, "I'm so glad I could do this for you. Just promise you'll give her a loving home." I walked out of the lawyer's office humbled, marvelling at the incredible sacrifice I had just witnessed.

My fourth resolution is to increase the time I spend on family history work, which, for me, includes indexing, genealogy, and writing my personal history. I’ve done genealogy work since I was twelve years old, and a Beehive girl in the Young Women’s program. Most recently, I have been fervently praying for a small miracle. My mother-in-law worked for many years on the genealogy of the Kennedys, in the days when there were no computers and doing genealogy was an expensive hobby. She loved one lady particularly—Mary Hamilton, who is Tom’s great-great grandmother. She even wrote a fictional story about Mary. Everything she knew about Mary, however, was based on family stories that had not been verified by actual factual material. Mary Hamilton came from Scotland to Nova Scotia with her husband and son and was widowed shortly after her arrival in Nova Scotia. She married a second man, John McInnes, moved to British Columbia and reared several children who are quite prominent in British Columbia history. But, Peggy was never able to find Mary Hamilton or the Kennedys in Scotland. I have been praying for years that before my mother-in-law died, I would be able to locate the family in Scotland, so she would feel that her work had not been in vain. Grandma is 93 and not in the best of health, so I’ve re-doubled my efforts. In frustration, I typed Mary’s name into google search!! Again, you know the rest of this story. I’ve found Mary’s family—father, brothers and sister, and I’m even corresponding with one of Mary’s descendants in Nova Scotia. Genealogy has served me well as a very rewarding, affirming hobby.
Life has been very good to me. I have been blessed beyond measure. It seems to me that I owe the Lord the courtesy of doing all that I can; yet, I can’t seem to do anything that doesn’t benefit me even more than it does God. May we all be able to work on our resolutions, and will you remind me when I’m not??

SEASONS' GREETINGS

2008-12-25T07:56:00.000-08:00

"Today I am proclaiming a State of Emergency due to the massive snowfall in Eastern Washington and the mountain passes,” said Gregoire. “The snowfall this month has been relentless and this proclamation will help counties with response efforts.”

We're fine. Life is good. Greetings of the Season from we who are in a state of emergency. Love you All. Mom

2008-12-24T00:41:00.000-08:00

My December Picasa picture file has 352 pictures in it, and there are still seven days left in the month!! The pictures are of the minutiae that fills the daily life of a retired couple--the little flock of birds that we feed and nurture who are so fat they can barely fly; some are literally waddle through the snow to the feeders, sewing projects lovingly made for Christmas presents, the new acquisitions--a truck, the snow, snow, snow, and odds and ends here and there. We are busy but not so busy that we can't laugh at the antics of our flock, try something new like our nativity set, or organize the old, like decorating the entire house for Christmas. We laugh when we find an old, scarred bent-up candle. Tom is ready to throw it away, but I explain that it was part of a gorgeous Christmas bouquet I received at school from him on our first Christmas. I was truly an old maid when we met, and he didn't like the way I'd been teased about my single status. He sent the bouquet to the school to show everyone that I was loved and cherished. That old candle will be on display in our home every Christmas for forever. We're not too busy to kneel together a couple of times a day and give thanks for our luxurious life of love, decent health, and something to do.

It's the first hour of Christmas Eve Day. I just sent Vale to bed, telling him there's lots to do today. He reminds me of the silly, fun Christmases we have spent together--all 12 of them in his memory. We don't remember what presents we got; we remember when we left some chili cans we were using to prop up the walls inside our gingerbread house, his first encounter with a bearded Santa Claus, and a thousand other precious experiences together. I'm still up working at my favorite things--addressing Christmas cards, finishing up a handmade gift, and wrapping a goodie box to deliver to dear friends, while everyone else is asleep, and I can enjoy the quiet moments.

Although the picture doesn't do it much justice, the top of our gazebo resembles a Dairy Queen soft ice cream cone top. Vale's dubbed it the Gazebo Queen Cone. With nearly two feet of snow piled on me, I may begin to droop a bit as well. Last night, we were able to celebrate Tom's 70th birthday with cake and a serenade:

For me, the most significant word throughout the Christmas season is REMEMBER. So often in this season, our conversations are punctuated with the phrase, "Remember when we did this or that?" We spend hours with family and friends reminiscing about times past and present. We remember in church services, nativity scenes, and newspaper articles the true meaning of Christmas. We remember friends' and families' kindnesses and their personalities as we look for just the right and appropriate gift for them. All of this remembering is so helpful in these hard and difficult times and can be brought and savored and reviewed again and again when our life is painful.
MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE, in whatever circumstance or clime you find yourself in this holy season. Keep up your spirits and remember that you are loved. When times are the very toughest, and you see only storms in your path, picture Dad and I kneeling together, holding hands. If you could read our lips, you would know that we are speaking to a God whom we know and love, trust and obey. We're asking Him to bless YOU, give you solace and comfort because we love you so. Love, Mom

CHRISTMAS GIFTS

2008-12-14T06:34:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking of gifts this Holiday season. The tv is blaring non-stop commercials concerning gifts to give. I read an article on msn.com entitled "The Worst Gifts You've Received from your In-laws" which seemed so sad and had a theme of ingratitude for a gift that may have been given in great love. Always, at this time, I am immersed in the making, giving, and getting gifts. I love the time I spend making Christmas gifts!! They're never spectacular or expensive, but the sewing of the present gives me hours of time to think about the recipient and to enumerate all that I love about that person. When I'm purchasing a gift for another, I often have no idea what to get, but I fix into my mind an image of that person and try my best. I think the most wonderful aspect of the gifts one gives is the aura of love and remembrance which envelopes each gift. Often the gift can't be wrapped. A newly adopted granddaughter, good health, a hug, a joke shared. Aunt Joan was here, and we planned to go to a Relief Society recipe exchange in which we were to bring our favorite Christmas dish. Aunt Joan suggested that we make fudge and bring spoons for the sisters, recalling that Mother could never get her fudge to set up, so we usually had a 13x9 casserole dish full of runny fudge with five spoons stuck in them! Wonderful memories of a Mother who gave gifts from her heart. Some gifts are given when we don't think of them as a gift. Twenty-eight years ago in March, we lost our beautiful baby daughter, Ann Margaret, to crib death. A week or two after the funeral, I had a knock at my door, and there stood my father. Daddy had suffered a stroke several years before and had lost his speech. His right arm was curled into a permanent balled fist; he wore a heavy brace and walked with a cane. He drove an old, old car. He had driven for four hours. We sat down together, and he held my hand and patted it over and over. Not a word was spoken between us as the tears streamed down our faces. He stayed for only an hour, indicating that he had to get home before dark. I had been given a priceless gift, which makes me tear up nearly 30 years later. There have been many, many other such moments in my life of sweet gifts tenderly given, which I acknowledge with deep gratitude.

Speaking of gifts--it snowed last night. Only a few inches, and it's still snowing. Dad is already outside--not shoveling snow or gathering wood but testing out his birthday gift--a 2004 Nissan Titan. He has, at last, found a replacement for his beloved Tahoe from his working days.

Another gift we've acquired this year is to finally have the time to build a nativity display for our front lawn. Not only did Dad do a wonderful job, but it smells good too since he used cedar in the manger. We've wanted to make a public statement about why we celebrate Christmas for a long time, and we're pleased with our results.

All is well. Gifts are on their way. Decorations are going up; the Christmas letter is in my thoughts, and we watched the Christmas pageant at the ward dinner last night and laughed when there were four Magi so that no tender feelings would be hurt, the rowdiest boy in the ward with a lopsided halo, and a baby Jesus slammed into his bed. Gifts. All of you keep gifts in mind and remember that, no matter, what gifts you receive, they are gifts from the heart of someone who loves you. Love, Mom

"God gave us memories so that we could have June roses in the December of our lives." ~J.M. Barrie

AIDING AND ABETTING, DECEMBER BIRTHDAYS, AND

2008-12-07T03:36:00.000-08:00

In spite of warm--well, relatively speaking--weather, the wind is howling and whipping through the trees, and Dad is out checking up on a Nativity display that he set up in the front yard. Dad has certainly done his fair share of Christmas decorating these past few days. I have frantically been completing Christmas projects, so we can get our packages off, especially to Guam. I'm in what Mark calls project mode. It isn't that I picked particularly difficult projects this year or waited until the last minute; it's that I picked out a project I've never done before, and it just isn't going well!! Of course, I can't turn back because I have so much money invested!! Ah well, Nietsche said it best: “We should consider every day lost in which we have not danced at least once.”
I'm feeling very guilty!! I've aided and abetted the enemy. A few posts back I displayed the letter Ethan wrote to Santa. I played Santa and wrote:
To My Friend, Ethan:
I received your Christmas letter just a few days ago, even though you sent it to me in October. It’s a long way from Guam to the North Pole, isn’t it? In the North Pole, it’s very, very cold. The elves are kept busy stoking all of our many fires. I’m enjoying a nice hot mug of hot chocolate with a few marshmallows floating on top while I write this letter.
I certainly don’t think your Christmas list is too extravagant. You don’t seem to want too much. Sometimes boys and girls think Santa is very rich, and they want me to buy them all of the toys their parents can’t even afford. Children forget that I am just a poor old man who wants to bring happiness and cheerfulness to the world. Like everyone else, we are experiencing hard economic times here at the Pole!! I will try to bring you most of what you’ve asked for, but…I go by my own heart when I select gifts. I rely on the Spirit to tell me whether boys and girls really need everything they ask for!! You’ll have to wait until Christmas morning to see what my heart has told me to bring you.
I know you have been a good boy all year. Oh, you’re an average kind of kid, and you get mad sometimes and do mean-spirited things. I know that, but, all in all, you are a kind spirited and good boy. I know that you love your family. You are loving to them—especially to Ivan who seems to need some extra help with his Lego building. I understand that you are doing well in school and are especially helpful to your teacher!! I know that you go to Primary and Cub Scouts and do all that you’re asked to do. The most important trait for a young boy is that he tries to help and serve others. You are young and strong and kind, and there are many who need your help.
Thank you for warning me to get some sleep. I think I’ll start right now…..ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Recently, Marie called to share the results. Ethan was, of course, thrilled with his letter. Eyes big as dollars, he said to his mom, "Now I have proof, Mom. I have proof that Santa is really true! Can I take my letter to school?" When he came home from school, he explained that EVERYONE now believes that there is a Santa except one girl, and he even got to read his letter in front of his class. Oh the webs we weave!! Hopefully, I'll be old and senile when he discovers that his grandma perpetuated the myth.
Although November is the prize winner for family birthdays, there are some very special birthday babies in December.

I can't seem to make DeAnne's picture any bigger, so this will have to do. You must remember that the first time I ever saw DeAnne, she was sitting on a blanket eating a pine cone! DeAnne is a senior graduate student at the University of Illinois and is about to receive her masters' degree in theater production. (I don't know what it's called!! She designs sets for theater productions.) She is working right now on an elaborate set for an opera. DeAnne is fun to be around; she's witty, silly, soft-hearted, and devoted.

New Mama, Susan shares her birthday with her dad. For years now, Susan has received a nutcracker from Mom and Dad in memory of several birthdays spent at productions of the Nutcracker. I remember the first time we attended a production in Portland. Susan was dressed in her Sunday best, and she stood high in the nosebleed section overwhelmed by the huge audience, the elaborate set, the music, the comings and goings. She looked at me and said, "Mom, do we know anyone here?" Susan is our Rock. She's calm in a storm, laid-back, steady, and one always feels comfortable and cared for in her presence.

Isn't this a great picture of Dad? It was taken on his birthday in 1974. He turns 70 this year, and I've been trying to tell him to slow down. He's constantly busy and constantly questioning whether he's doing enough. Just a few days ago, we had a conversation about the inner force that drives him! It was a wonderful, thought-provoking kind of sharing that reminds me once again how much this man stirs my soul and heart. It ended with his immortal words, "I know I'm a problem for you; I'm a problem for myself." Awwww...how can I not like this guy?

Our cousin, Peggy, tells me that Julianna Marie Jensen is Grandma Kennedy's 100th descendent. Life is good, and if I can just get my projects completed it will be very good. Love from the wind-blown Strawberry Mountain. Mom

TABBIES, TURKEYS, AND SANTA RUNS

2008-11-30T06:50:00.000-08:00

The Thanksgiving Day weekend is slipping away, just like the one last, carefully hoarded piece of banana cream pie slipped off its plate and landed, kerplunk, in the garbage while I was searching for a fork!!
Although we received several invitations for dinner at friends' houses, we opted to have a special meal at a nice restaurant. We were, however, feeling a bit nostalgic when the day dawned, so...we sought to have an adventure rather than stay home. Aha...our first adventure was spotting those wild turkeys strolling along the road!! They strutted their stuff for the photo op, knowing full well they were in no danger from us!!
We also spotted this wonderfully huge bird's nest in one of our oak trees. At first, we thought it may have been an old nest that we'd just never noticed, but our resident bird flock flew in and out while we watched!! Beautiful sight. There are families of all types!!

We'd seen on a tv commercial that some stores were open on Thanksgiving Day. Who knew?? We had fun wandering through some of the local stores and buying gifts. We pondered over what to buy for each other and decided that what we really wanted as a gift was a quick trip to Arizona, California, and Utah to play Santa for family members!! I even convinced Dad to brave the Black Friday crowds, so I could get some items at JoAnn's Fabrics!!

We did have a luxurious dinner at the Hood River Inn. In the first picture, you're looking west at the bridge.

Here you're looking east at SDS Lumber and the Bingen Marina.

The Inn was crowded, nicely decorated, but, alas...no leftovers!!

One of my former students sold me a couple of GREAT DEALS at Home Depot. Since I worked so hard to teach many of my special students good work skills, I couldn't resist succumbing to Jesse's pleadings--stocking stuffers and $1 poinsettias.

Now I'm preparing for the Santa Run. We'll contact those of you involved of our itinerary as soon as we know what it is. Lots of fun. I have "stuff" everywhere. Dad started hauling in the Christmas bins. These are but a few.

All is well here. The weather is almost balmy. I noticed in my journal from last year that we had our first snow on November 18, but, there's no snow in sight and none predicted!! We're healthy and happy and THANKFUL. Hope you are too. Love, Mom

"Grace is God's acceptance of me. Faith is my acceptance of God's acceptance of me. Peace is my acceptance of me." Robert Millett

Welcome little Miss Juliana Marie!!

2008-11-26T15:18:00.000-08:00

Unlike other mothers/grandmothers/great grandmothers, I am not baking seven pies, cooking a turkey and a ham, and bustling around the kitchen. My children aren't lounging on couches and in front of tvs and basketball hoops. The leaves are all raked, and there's a bite of snow in the air, and the house is quiet except for the occasional snap of the fire and the low hum of a tv news show. Dad and I are alone on this Thanksgiving Eve, so I was feeling a certain hollowness this morning as I contemplated spending Thanksgiving Day at a luxury hotel having a scrumptuous dinner which I didn't cook. Then, the phone rang, and an excited Susan said, "Mom, the baby's come." Oh, the tender mercies of God when He knew how I needed to be reminded that Thanksgiving is not about turkeys and food, company or football games; it's about the giving of thanks!! Our new baby is Miss Juliana Marie Jensen, born November 25 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana to a black daddy and white mama who could care less about her!! Miss Juliana Marie--doesn't that stir up your memories of Southern belles!? Miss Juliana Marie is very much wanted by Susan, Eric, two brothers and one sister, and 30+ aunts, uncles, and cousins. By next Tuesday, our little Southern Belle will be an Arizona Razorback with lungs to match.

On another fun "tender mercy" note, I've been trying for several days to get a picture of the flock of wild turkeys who cross and criss cross the road up here. When I have my camera ready, they're nowhere to be seen; when my camera's not in the car, they stroll majestically and slowly across the road in front of the car!! No wonder they're not gracing anyone's dinner table tomorrow!!

My camera has been broken for several years, requiring some well placed rubber bands to hold the plate cover over the batteries and causing constant consternation when the rubber bands slip, the batteries fall out, and I've lost my Kodak moment. I checked out the cost to repair my beloved digital camera and found out that there are no Sony repair shops within 250 miles of White Salmon and a trip to the factory for a repair and cleaning is $121+tax!! When we were in Wal-mart looking at a new camera, our favorite Wal-mart manager, Paolo, took a look at the camera, slightly bent a small piece of plastic , and my broken camera was whole once more!!

Life is such a carousel of wonderful moments to be enjoyed and savored, and brought to our minds again and again at less "wonderful" times. Being reminded so spectacularly by a little brown-eyed girl from the bayou is so fine!! Welcome, Little Darling. Love and Thanks to all of you for being who you are. Still stalking those birds with my "new" camera--Mom

SANTAS AND SACKS

2008-11-20T05:00:00.000-08:00

I am often disappointed if someone hasn't updated his blog for a while; yet I can't always seem to get mine done. I love the new sport of "blurfing" which seems to be a constant peek into other people's lives. I'm not sure if we love the peeking because it affirms that our life is just as ordinary and pretty much boring and normal as others, or we like to know that others are just as quirky as we are!! Ah well. It's certainly a timekiller to scroll through blogs.

Christmas is only a few weeks away, and Santa's Workshop is open at our house. Aunt Joan came for a visit, and we both began the frenzy that is preparation for Christmas. We talked about the great pleasure there is in anticipating the reaction of the recipients to a gift that we've made personally for them. I think that, unless you're a crafter or sewer, you don't understand that giving a personally handmade gift for someone is a gift with a double benefit--one for the giver and one for the gifted. We're making something for all of the daughters in our lives, and you can see below a picture of two of them. Sometime after Christmas, I'll show what these pieces of material become!! Joan and I loved the challenge of figuring out the material we'd use, the embellishments and gee gaws to adorn them with, and the delicious hours of putting the gifts together. We talked about the recipients--would they cherish our gifts or would they throw them in a drawer out of sight? It doesn't matter, of course, because the two way benefit is that the gifted knows that you cared enough to make something for them, and the giver has had the challenge of the making!! Aunt Joan tried a few times to capture some of the crazy antics of the squirrels, birds, and guinea hens who chitter, chatter, dash, and careen all over the yard every day. By the time, she could get on her shoes, grab her camera, and sneak out to the yard, the Kodak moment was gone. She missed, though, the Saga of the Sack. A few days earlier, the high winds blew a plastic sack high into the trees, where it snagged on a branch!! Oh well, we thought, another wind gust will blow it out of the tree!! No...no wind strong enough came along to catch that one. One day, we watched a squirrel climb everywhere along the branch, but he didn't dislodge the pesky sack either. Two birds spent a time swooping and diving at the sack, although they never once touched it. So, Dad pulled out a ladder and made a few swipes at it with his hand, a broom, and a rake...again to no avail. Finally, the nuisance sack was dislodged when Dad had to cut off the branch!! It seemed a fitting commentary on life...sometimes it's the little, persistent nuisances that seem to get far more attention than they deserve.

Dad's annual leaf-raking ritual netted 50--yes 50--bags full of leaves!! The stack of bags is taller than he is. One or two more rakings should get the job done.

Here's my latest project. I've played Santa in every other way, why not by answering a Christmas letter? I'll share my answer next blog:

All is well here. Grandma is hanging in there but is pretty much confined to home during the winter months, so give her a call when you can!! Love, Mom

"I've learned.... That no matter how serious your life requires you to be, everyone needs a friend to act goofy with."

Memories and Realities

2008-11-12T04:31:00.000-08:00

In a recent novel I listened to on tape, one of the characters asks another to search back as far into his mind as he can and describe his earliest memory. So, I've been searching my memories for my earliest recollection. No mean feat given my advancing age. I've come up with a very vivid mind-picture of a scene in the living room of our home when I was two. It was winter in Idaho (??). Joan and I were playing by a stove which gave off lots of heat, and Mother was struggling to crochet something. It's a fleeting memory but vivid.
I've actually heard the story often but not seen the event in my mind. The year was 1943 or 44, war-time. Mother has often told us that she was desperate to make a wonderful Christmas for us that year in spite of the calamaties and stridency of the world, and she had little money. She bought cheap rubber dolls and two balls of crochet yarn, but she couldn't find a crochet hook because all metal had to be donated to the war relief. My father's Aunt Eliza gave her an old, bent crochet hook and taught Mother to crochet. In the picture is that old, bent crochet hook, the doily Mother was working on when she died, and a genuine 40's era glass Alka-seltzer bottle that Mother stored her crochet hooks in all those years. Mother's struggles paid off, and Santa brought us that year, dollies wearing beautiful crocheted dresses. One dress was in shades of variegated lavendar and one in variegated blue, but I don't remember which was which. All of us remember, with great fondness, Mother's many doilies, quilts, afghans, and gifts from the "big store." That seems to be her legacy. I wonder what my legacy will be?? What will my children remember about me??

Dad tells me I need to find a new subject for my picture-taking, but he's always engaged in such fun projects. Right now, he's having to repair the damage caused when some pipes in the upstairs bathroom become old and corroded and leaked into the ceiling of the guest bedroom downstairs!!

I think in an earlier post I mentioned that Autumn has been reluctant to leave; the truth is, I am reluctant for her to leave. This has been one of the most glorious on record for a long time. The two pictures of trees are in the front yard, and I'm standing by the boat launch site at the Bingen Marina. At the moment, high wind and heavy rain are pelting the side of the house, and I can imagine a scene of heavy leaf fall and broken limbs that will greet us at the dawn. Good-bye to Autumn's splendor and hello to cozy evenings by the crackling fire!!
I sometimes think that we now live in a world gone mad!! It seems as though everyone is finding that he can promote his own personal agenda if he speaks in exclamation points and in a loud, strident voice. I feel like TJ does in this picture. I just want to turn off the world, slow all the tumult down a bit, and give us all time to ponder and soften. There is so much beauty and serenity in the world if we could just learn to turn off our own agenda and tune into the needs of others!! Then, we could all speak in soft tones, and TJ wouldn't have to plug his ears. We're well. Grandma's doing okay. We love and pray for each of you. Love, Mom

"When we come to understand not only WHO we are, but who we always have been - and therefore, who we may become - the choice between following Christ or embracing the world is really no choice at all." - Sheri Dew