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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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