Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Therapy

Some of the people in my life are going through some really tough things.  I've spent many early morning hours praying for them, but beyond that, I'm feeling pretty helpless.  I'm not in a position to make these difficult life circumstances "all better," but I know the One who is and I appeal to His mercy daily.

I fell into bed the other night and prayed, "Lord, I just want personal peace and affluence."  He has a sense of humor, so I knew He could take it.  Something woven into my DNA, whether it be my German heritage, my position as first born child or my melancholy personality (or a combination of the three) means I end up taking on other people's stress.  It's not exactly a healthy practice.  So near the end of last week, I put myself in therapy.

First and foremost, I continued to give others' burdens to the Lord.  I'm not the best burden bearer and as as Matt keeps reminding me, "We play checkers. God plays chess."  Next, I decided to clean. Visual clutter really bothers me, but I've had to become a lot more lax about it.  Having eight kids in the house doesn't exactly lend itself to the "neat and tidy" look that is my personal preference.  But, sometimes I snap.  Something goes off in my brain and I have to get some of the clutter cleared out.

That's what has happened in the last few days.  I sorted piles of mixed up Zoobs, K'Nex and Legos and put them into their proper places.  Then I sorted the Legos by color.  When my brother gifted our boys with his Lego collection several years ago, they were all organized by color, but they didn't stay that way for long.  Now they're back to their former glory.  We'll see how long it lasts--hah!

I tackled Lydia's corner of the girls' room.  This is usually a task for which I'm unable to muster the necessary mental fortitude, but Saturday I did it.  Lydia and I went through every tub and in-progress craft project.  We sorted buttons, yarn, beads and pens.  I washed every stitch of her bedding and put on the winter sheets.

I also sorted all of the kids' books.  We have accumulated a very large library, but everything was out of order.  Golden books were all returned to their rightful place on the book shelf in the boys' room. Early readers were returned to their shelf in the school room.  I went through all the children's books in the house, including Christmas books, and picked out what was borderline twaddle (I got rid of true twaddle several years ago).  I packed two boxes of books to go to Goodwill.

I haven't mailed a single Christmas card, or baked a single Christmas cookie, but I've taken two trips to Goodwill to donate stuff, gone to the recycling center twice and filled our outside garbage can to overflowing.  That was Monday and our garbage pick up day isn't until Thursday.
All this cleaning has been therapeutic in that it keeps my brain from hamster wheeling and going into "impossible problem" solving mode, which it tends to do when not completely focused on a task--a task like sorting Legos by color.  I told Matt "it's cheaper than real therapy, plus all the Legos got sorted."

It's a comfort to know that while I sort Legos and find ten pairs of dirty socks under the beds, the Master Chess Player is making His next move.

  for I am God, and there is no other; 
 I am God, and there is none like me,
10 
declaring the end from the beginning

    and from ancient times things not yet done,

saying, ‘My counsel shall stand,

    and I will accomplish all my purpose,’ 
Isaiah 46:9-10

Sunday, December 6, 2015

The Kids: Paul

Paul  turned fourteen at the end of September.  He's been working with a local knife maker to make a knife, which he completed a little over a month ago.  This, too, was a story of God's provision.

I had been praying for a year that the Lord would find Paul a knife-making mentor.  We had taken Paul to visit a well-established knife maker this past summer.  While seeing this man's set-up for knife making was a dream come true for Paul, a mentoring opportunity didn't present itself.  So, I continued to pray.


Not long after that, an article ran in the local newspaper about a man who makes knives. He had competed on a television show on the History Channel called Forged in Fire.  I e-mailed him.  He was very excited to meet Paul.  Matt and Paul went to the man's house and saw his knife making set-up. Then he offered to help Paul make a knife.

All told, the man donated about 15 hours of his time to Paul in the making of his knife.  (He refused payment for his time).  He is a man who loves to teach, which is exactly what I was praying for.  This man has offered to continue to mentor Paul as he learns the knife making trade.  God is good. We are working on getting Paul the proper equipment so that he can begin making knives on his own. Finances have been the biggest hurdle to overcome, as it's not cheap to even get started with some basic tools.  However, the knife maker gave us some good tips to get the best deals possible.  We hope to get some forward movement on this venture by the first of the year.

Paul continues to be Joseph's favorite, favorite, favorite.  Paul spends a good part of every day tending to that rascally little two year old boy.  He even changes Joseph's poopy diapers with narry a complaint.  Paul also gets Joseph ready for bed and settles him to get him to sleep every night.  It's pretty cool to see that kind of selfless service in a kid Paul's age.

Paul has a great sense of humor and keeps me from taking life too seriously when his dad isn't around to do that job.  He serves as acolyte at the late service every Sunday at church, but he never complains. He also continues to make progress in his studies, reading Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet Spy by Eric Metaxas (Paul's choice) and a biography of Martin Luther.  He's still plugging along in math, overcoming a motivation issue that he has had the last few years.  Yay for progress!

Boy Scouts continues to be a of great interest to Paul.  He made First Class this past summer, was patrol leader for a session, is currently the chaplain's aid and continues to work on merit badges and pack meticulously for every possible contingency for all the camp outs.

Paul also has put his new hunting license to use.  He passed his hunter training course last spring.  A couple of weekends ago, he and Matt went pheasant hunting.  Just yesterday, Paul went on his first duck hunt as an actual participant. He, my dad and Matt shot 19 ducks.  My dad, who has hunted all his life, said that he'd never been on a better duck hunt.  There were scads of birds and the weather was cold but calm.  Paul was thrilled.  Unfortunately, all future hunts may pale in comparison.


Paul is a joy.  He's a hard worker and does all the jobs I ask him to do without complaint. He's got a soft heart.  God continues to amaze me with His plans for our kids, despite our feeble efforts as parents.  

Paul's First Hunt circa 2006 

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Happy Thanksgiving!

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
    for his steadfast love endures forever!
                        Psalm 107:1




Wednesday, November 25, 2015

The Kids: Elizabeth

Elizabeth  is sixteen and has her driver's permit.  She had a bit of a scare while driving Grandpa's car this past summer, which slowed the driver's ed process down a bit.  She'll get there.  

The Lord has put it on Elizabeth's heart to travel to Uganda next summer on a three week mission trip. This is something I never would have planned for Elizabeth, but God had different plans for her. Our church is associated with a church and school in Uganda.  A pastor friend of ours and his wife will be heading up the trip, which they have done numerous times before.  Elizabeth will help at the school and be a part of food deliveries to the needy in outlying communities.  We are still working through the many details associated with such an undertaking.  God has already opened many doors and provided a good part of the funding for Elizabeth to go to Uganda, so we have confirmation that this is His will for her.

Liz's braces were removed a few weeks ago.  Two years were worth the beautiful smile the braces produced.  Liz continues to take sewing lessons and has now moved into dress design.   She recently remade a formal thrifted dress by adding sleeves which she fashioned out of our old dining room curtains. She wore that dress for our family's annual Reformation party.

Elizabeth has become a very dependable sous chef and even makes dinner for the family entirely on her own a few times a week. For the second year in a row, she is helping Grandpa Bob do pre-Thanksgiving food prep.  Liz rocks the low carb pizza and makes a mean no sugar peanut butter cup, too.  She's got an excellent ability to tweak recipes to make them tastier, which is a talent I don't have.

Always a willing shopping partner, Liz accompanies me on many a couponing adventure.  She helps me think through menus, points out good buys in the store and keeps track of my Ibotta rebate app on my phone.  Elizabeth is also the chief laundress at our house and continues to make good progress in her studies.

Elizabeth is a natural with animals.  She's the only one who can get Rachel back inside when she escapes out the front door.  Well, Matt can do it, but Rachel almost never escapes when he's home. Elizabeth is currently taking care of the neighbor's horses after their recent return to this neighborhood.  She understands the horses' personalities and works around their idiosyncrasies.

Matt and I are in awe of all the Lord has done in Elizabeth's life.  She had some big shoes to fill when Grace started school and was no longer home during the day, but she has done a great job of filling those shoes.


Wednesday, November 18, 2015

The Kids: Grace

Within one 24 hour period last week, I had two different people ask me for an update on each of the kids.  I had another person ask me this week.  Life gets crazy and I haven't posted here as much as I would have liked.  So here goes--an update on the kids--kid by kid--from the eldest, down to the youngest.  I'll give each kid his or her own post.

Grace turned twenty at the beginning of September.  She graduated from cosmetology school in the middle of September and passed the state tests, both the written and the practical.  We had to travel to the big town in order for Grace to take her practical exam.  After the three hour exam, Matt and I picked Grace up from the testing site.  She turned on her phone and found a text from the co-owner of the beauty salon where I get my hair cut.  This woman wanted to talk to Grace.  Previously, she had told Grace that although she would love to hire her upon her graduation, she didn't have room for her. Turns out, one of the cosmetologists at the shop decided to move back to her home town.  There was now room for Grace.

Grace would first have to pass a test given to her by the owners. (I talked about that here.)  At the end of that day, Grace was offered a job. We can now see how God was working through the terrible situation of Grace's cosmetology school closing.  Near the end of her time at that school, Grace had A LOT of clients since no new students were enrolling there.  She got a ton of experience that she would not have gotten otherwise.  This ended up serving her well and I believe it's one of the major reasons why she was offered the job at the salon were she now works.
One of the gals who works at the salon told Grace that she is very blessed to be working there.  She told Grace that people frequently come to the salon asking for a job, but are turned down. So the fact that Grace was asked to work there is a great honor. Again, all the credit goes to God here.  The salon is not far from our house, which is another bonus.  All the woman who work there are very nice and Grace is enjoying the experience as she works to build her clientele.  She works at that salon four days per week.

Now, for another God thing.  Before Grace even started cosmetology school, she told me that it was her dream to work exclusively with curly-haired women.  I'll be honest, when she told me this, I had to keep myself from laughing.  Outside of those cosmetologists who specialize in working with African American hair, I was sure that no such thing existed.  How could one make a living doing just curly hair?  Mid-way through Grace's year of cosmetology school, my friend Cathy texted me about the great hair cut she had just gotten from a woman who specializes in curly hair. As in, she has international clients and charges bookoo bucks for her curly hair haircuts.  Who knew there was such a thing?  She wanted to meet Grace.  Grace did meet her, and this woman offered Grace the chance to help her by shampooing clients.  Before Grace even graduated, this woman wanted Grace to work for her.  So Grace is working at least one day a week for the woman who specializes in curly hair. Grace has learned a ton from this woman and she loves getting to work with curly hair!

The entire year that Grace was in cosmetology school, people kept telling her that she would have to work at a place like Great Clips her first year out of school.  No one would even consider hiring her until after that, they said.  Don't get me wrong, Matt and the kids have frequented Great Clips for years and we like them.  However, we didn't want Grace to have to work there if it could be avoided. I kept telling Grace, "Listen, we just do things differently in our family.  We break the mold and we're not about to stop doing that now.  God will work something out."  And boy did He.    

Besides working, Grace is also trying to keep her little photography business going, she is attending Bible Study Fellowship and a book club, gardening, baking,  playing piano occasionally at church and helping around the house when her schedule allows.  She's one busy girl.  Matt and I are blessed to have her as our daughter.

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Annual Basement Clean Out

This past summer, our family had a discussion.  I'm sure it had to do with helping the littles understand the different times of the year.  Something along the lines of, "We do this in this month and that in that month."

I distinctly remember Paul saying, "October is clean up the basement month."  Ha ha.  Unfortunately, it's true.  By the time I've canned and yard saled my way through summer, the basement is quite the mess as we head into Fall.

We always host a Reformation Party at the end of October.  The games for that party always take place in, you guessed it, the basement.  Since next weekend is the party, I'm cleaning the basement today.  The bi-annual Great Clothes Switch Out, in which I trade all the kids' summer clothes for winter clothes also happened this week.  Soooo, between a clothes explosion, a Costco box explosion (I'll never stand in the check out lane at Costco and say I want a box again) and a craft explosion (created by someone who shall remain nameless, but whose middle name is Dean), the basement is in quite a state.

Grace helped me for a bit this morning, but now she and Liz are off to a photo shoot.  Matt, Paul, Joel and Jude went on a Boy Scout camp out.  Which leaves me here with two itty bitties and  someone whose middle name is Dean.  So progress in the basement has now stalled.

I'd like to get to a Marie Kondo state of being in the basement (who am I kidding, in my whole house), but I know that's just a pipe dream.  Ain't gonna happen with ten people living here.  I think what I've learned in the Five Aspects of Woman definitely applies.  Since the Fall in the Garden of Eden, our domains rebel against us.  Try as we might, our places tend toward disorder and we have to work hard to bring back order, thus ruling our domains.

I guess I should get back at it.  Ruling my domain that is.  I'll get that basement clean knowing full well I'll be back down there next October doing the same thing all over again.  Marie Kondo definitely does not live here.  

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Family Vacation 2015

We weren't sure we would be able to pull off a family vacation this year, but as it turned out, we did. The Lord worked out the details beautifully, even though the whole thing was rather last-minute and unplanned.

                                             Picture taken from the top of White Bird Canyon

It all started when our Pastor preached a sermon some weeks ago about standing firm.  He illustrated his point with a picture he had taken while on a hike in Idaho.  It was picture of a rocky high point in White Bird Canyon.  In the 1877 Battle of White Bird Canyon, one man, Sargent Michael M. McCarthy, stood his ground on a high rocky crag against the Nez Perce.  The rest of the soldiers retreated and one third were killed by the Nez Perce.  McCarthy survived and was given the Congressional Medal of Honor for his bravery.  The sermon really impacted our family.  Pastor reminded us that as Christians, we are strategically placed in this time and place and that we are to stand firm.

Matt decided we should visit the White Bird Canyon Battlefield and follow the Nez Perce trail (at least the parts in Idaho) for our family vacation.  He found a century old cabin for us to rent--one that would sleep us all and allow us to bring the dog.  He booked a reservation.

                             These two fell asleep within twenty minutes of leaving our house

Elizabeth and I busied ourselves with preparing and freezing our meals for the four days we would be gone.  The days leading up to the trip were insanely busy for our family and I will admit that the day before the trip, when we still hadn't packed or finished food preparations, I began to panic.  However, the kids really dug in and helped.  We got ourselves out the door and on the road the following morning only thirty minutes past our desired departure time.

We enjoyed the beautiful drive, seeing parts of our great country that we'd never seen.  We stopped and ate our picnic lunch at a park in a small town and then headed down the road once again,  By late afternoon, we arrived at our first planned stop on the Nez Perce trail.  The Nez Perce National Historic Park has a visitor center in Spalding, Idaho.  While there, we watched a film on the Nez Perce.  In it, current Nez Perce tribal members describe their side of the Nez Perce Indian War and its aftermath.  It was very well done, though we didn't agree with some of theology that was presented.

After we saw the film and the artifacts in the museum, we wandered around the grounds.  Some original buildings still stand, including a Presbyterian Church started by a missionary named Spalding in the late 1830's.  A general store, though empty, is also still on the property.

Jude beside a big tree in the Nez Perce National Historical Park.  That's a little bunch of mushrooms inside the tree.  I tried to get Joseph to sit in the hole for a picture--no dice.

After the kids and the dog released some pent-up energy, we got back in the van to head to our rental cabin.  No cell service meant Matt relied on map memory to get us there.  It took us longer than we anticipated (Idaho roads are very curvy), but when arrived at the Tall Pines Cabin, the owner greeted us warmly.  While the family unloaded the van, I put our dinner together.

We then settled in for the night.  The kids were ecstatic to be able to sleep in bunk beds.  I was dismayed to learn the only bathroom was all the way downstairs in the furthest location possible from the master bedroom.  After eight kids, my bladder can't pull an all-nighter, but Matt outfitted me with a flashlight and I survived.  Poor Rachel, however, did not fare as well.  She followed me down the stairs one night in the pitch black, lost her footing and tumbled all the way to the bottom.  She was afraid to go down the stairs for the rest of our time there.  Rachel's other vacation mishap occurred when Paul took her for an early morning walk.  She came back with hundreds of thistles stuck in her fur.  We spent the better part of two hours removing all of them.

The next day, we got up, ate breakfast, cycled through showers (only one bathroom!) and packed our picnic lunch and snacks for a day trip.  We stopped at a couple of different small towns, ate our lunch at a park in one of the towns and then headed to White Bird Canyon.


                                          Picture taken at the bottom of White Bird Canyon

Once we arrived, we realized the hike was a little more than we had bargained for with littles and a dog, but since we drove all that way, we decided to go for it.  It was 86 degrees that day, so we started sweating early on.  Matt carried Joseph on his shoulders much of the way.  The older kids and the dog took the lead.  I brought up the back with Lydia, who was quite sure she wouldn't make it.  I told her what my Grandpa Paul used to tell me, "It's the work you do after you're already tired that makes you stronger."  "Besides," I said, "We don't want to go home and tell Pastor we couldn't do it." So we persevered, read each sign about the different parts of the battle as we reached them and made it to the top.

Matt set up his cell phone to take a time-delayed picture of all of us at the summit.  We didn't get a very good one.  I had a freaky mama moment when I saw how closely Joel was situated to the precipice of the rocky cliff.  So I broke up the picture taking session early.  I had a rough night falling to sleep that night as I recounted that part of the day in my mind.  Shudder.

Anyway, the hike down was a lot easier.  We rewarded the kids with huckleberry ice cream cones at the little tourist trap at the bottom of the canyon.  Rachel drank her weight in water, as we had forgotten to take water for her on the hike.  She sacked out on the cool concrete while the kids ate their cones.

We then started back to the cabin, taking an alternate route that Matt thought would save us some time.  It was a lovely drive through lots of farm land.  Then we passed a sign that read, "Pavement Ends."  The road turned to gravel.  Then we passed a sign that read, "Trucks must be in low gear."  I got a little nervous, but not terribly so--until we started going down.  Very steeply down.  With lots of tight curves down.  With sheer drop offs on the left side of the vehicle and no guard rails down.  I gripped my arm rest and put my foot on the brake of my side of the car.  Thirty minutes later, we reached the bottom and then a few minutes after that, we reached our cabin.  Whew!



                                                Overlooking the Dworshak Dam Reservoir

The next day, we visited the Dworshak Dam.  I waited in the van with the dog and worked on my Bible study.  The kids and Daddy went inside and got the star treatment, as they were the only visitors.  One advantage of homeschooling is that we are able to visit places in the off-season and avoid the crowds.  The docent at the dam gave the kids the grand tour, plus lots of goodies, including frisbees for each of them.  Frisbees are a hot commodity around here because Rachel likes to chew on them, rendering them useless.  Joel was so excited by the frisbee that he told the docent, "You're the nicest woman I've ever met!"


      Rachel the Kangaroo waiting in the van at the dam--no doggies allowed.  Despite it all, Rachel had really great time with us on our vacation.  She was a very good girl, too.

After the dam, we visited all the stops along the Nez Perce trail  that we had yet to see.   Many of the stops on the trail are just signs with a brief paragraph our two explaining the spot and its significance in history.   After all of our studying about Lewis and Clark, it was neat to finally see the Clearwater River as we drove on the road that runs beside it.

We stopped at The Heart of the Monster.  Once you reach the rock, you can push a button and listen to the Nez Perce legend explaining the landmark. The kids enjoyed listening to the story, although they weren't sure of its veracity. We all got a good amount of exercise as we walked the park trails.
Along the trail, Joel asked me, "Who was right and who was wrong in the Nez Perce Indian War?"  I told him that all men are sinners and both sides did very bad and wrong things.

On the way back to the cabin, we stopped at a small town grocery store.  I did a much better job of packing the food for this trip than I did on our last big trip, but I needed to get a loaf of French bread and a head of lettuce to round out that night's dinner.  I think I ran into Mountain Man more than once in that store.
                                                              Replica Log Canoe

When we got back to the cabin, Grace volunteered to get dinner cooking and to watch the babies (Rachel and Joseph) while the rest of us visited the little museum in town.  It was a very well done museum.  Before we headed back to the cabin, we decided to check out the canoe camp  (and here) where Lewis and Clark worked with the Nez Perce Indians to make canoes to use for the remainder of their journey to the Pacific Ocean. When we got back to the cabin, Liz and I helped Grace finish up dinner and we all hit the hay early.  Vacation can be really exhausting.

We woke up the next morning, Matt and I said, "Happy Anniversary!" to each other, then we all pitched in to get breakfast served and to get all of our stuff back into the van for the ride home.  We stopped at a thrift store along the way.  Grace decided she MUST HAVE the vintage suitcases for an upcoming photo shoot.  I told her, "You get to tell Dad."  I could tell that Daddy was not pleased when we got back to the van with the suitcases (since we had so much extra room), but he handled it well.  Grace reconfigured the way the van was packed and got those buggars in there. I recused myself from the whole affair and buried my nose in my e-mail.

We then wandered around looking for a good picnic spot.  That one has no bathrooms.  That one has an entry fee.  That one has no parking.  Big suitcases + crabby kids + no place to eat lunch = stressed parents.

We finally found a suitable park, although it was full of goose poop, which Rachel tried to eat and the kids could not avoid stepping in.  Happy Anniversary, Honey!  Joseph LOVED the playground horsie there, though.  He's really into horses right now.  He refused to get off of the thing when it was time to leave.  When I went to lift him off of the horse, his little hands gripped the handles with all their might.  Tears ensued.

We made one more stop on the way home.  We stopped at a small town museum that was closed the day we traveled through it.  Once again, the kids got a personally guided tour by the docent there. She had a blast and so did they.

We made it home safe and sound, albeit a little rough around the edges.  I wanted to call it a day, but Matt insisted he take me to a Mexican restaurant for dinner.  I never could have guessed on our wedding day that twenty two years later we'd be celebrating our wedding anniversary on a road trip in a big van with eight kids and a dog.  God is good and He is faithful.

 Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. Ephes. 3:20-21

Sunday, September 27, 2015

The Sandwich Generation

I've read plenty about it--the sandwich generation, but until now, I didn't understand it because I hadn't experienced it.  It's been a steep learning curve.  I'm constantly trying to find the balance between my parents' needs and my family's needs.  I certainly have not done a perfect job of it.  I find myself going before the Throne of Grace for both my parents and my children on a daily basis.  It's a very weak and humbling position in which to be, but I know it's exactly where God wants me.

Friday was a sandwich day.  I got a call about 6 a.m. informing me that my mom had been taken to the emergency room.  I got out of bed, quickly got ready, packed a hospital bag and headed out. Here's a pro tip--never  go to the hospital with a friend or relative without a bag packed with high protein snacks, a water bottle, Advil (you will get a headache while there) and plenty of reading material.

When I arrived at the hospital, Mom, true to form, thought all of the fuss was much ado about nothing.  It wasn't exactly nothing, but it could have been much worse, so we were both thankful for that.  I distracted her with stories about the kids while the doctor did his work.  I was in disbelief when they released her just two hours later.

After meeting up with the staff at mom's house and giving them the doctor's instructions, I talked with Dad who had just gotten into town.  Mom had been approved to go on a little shopping trip with Dad, so all was well.

It was nearly lunch time and I had a full day of work ahead of me at home, so I headed that direction. Grace called me on the way.  She had been asked by the woman who does my hair if she wanted to work at her salon.   First, Grace would need to pass a little test.  She would have to do a foil hair color, a long, layered cut and a buzz cut.

"Mom, do you have time to get your hair colored today?"

"Well, how long will it take?"

"About 3 1/2 hours."

Gulp.

"Grace, I'm making a turkey dinner for your brother's birthday today. . .  alright, I'll do it."

Grace was relieved.  The person she had lined up for the color couldn't make it at the last minute. Mom to the rescue.

I got home, ate a quick lunch, prepped the turkey, stuck it in the fridge and gave clear instructions on how to get it cooked (America's Test Kitchen style--breast side down at 425 degrees for 1 hour, then flip the turkey, 325 until done).  Grace grabbed all of her tools and I grabbed my hospital bag.  I was in it for the long haul.  Once my hair was done (and beautiful, I might add), Grace asked me to text my friend to see if her daughter would like a free haircut.  The only caveat--she needed to come to the salon right now.   She was game.  Yay!

Next up--the buzz cut requirement.  Before I could deal with that, however, I needed to make sure dinner was on track.  I scurried home, gave some orders to peel potatoes and made sure the rest of the menu was coming along.  It wasn't, but at least the turkey was in the oven.

Matt, Paul and I then headed out again.  Paul was to be the recipient of the buzz cut.   We dropped him at the salon and then went to go pick up Matt's car at the mechanic's before he closed.  All three of our car were in the shop last week, but that's a whole 'nother story.

By the time I got back home, my Mom and Dad had arrived.  Mom had been given clearance to join us for the evening.  My sister and brother-in-law would be over an hour in coming, but that was o.k. because I needed every bit of that time to finish making the dinner.  A big shout-out goes to Elizabeth, who was a long-suffering servant all that day.  She even taught Lydia how to make the famous family Texas sheet cake recipe.

My Dad picked up Grace and Paul at the salon right before dinner.  It had been a marathon for Grace, but we think she passed the test.  The cosmetologists at the salon were impressed with her work. We'll see how God works out the details.  Paul loved his dinner (that guy can eat!) and Joseph cried when he missed his chance to blow out the birthday cake candles.

I won't lie.  I wanted to have a good cry several times on Friday, but I didn't have time.  So instead, I threw up some arrow prayers and by the grace of God, He got me through it.  And then I had a good cry and good prayer time in the middle of the night.

 "And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus."  Phil. 4:19



Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Kraut, Strudel, Pfeffernusse & More

We spent a few days in farm country over the weekend.  Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna hosted our family and several other family members for their town's annual German festival.
                                            Joel, wearing his Great Grandpa's German hat

We arrived Thursday evening right around bed time.  I wanted to hit the yard sales bright and early Friday morning.  Many folks in town host yard sales over the festival weekend and I usually get some really good deals.  This year was no exception.  I nabbed a hardly used gas grill, an antique desk (a graduation present for Grace) and a Carhartt coat.  Paul was so excited that I found that coat for him. So was I.  A winter coat for Paul was on my list.

I had hoped to go to the yard sales by myself, as I usually find some good Christmas gifts for the kids amongst the treasures, but I only made it to one sale before the kids found me.  The town is small and the kids know their way around.  Once they spotted me, Lydia said, "Yay!  Now we can ride in the van!"  So I took them all to the next sale.  That sale was in a tiny garage, but we managed to cram in there.  It was an estate sale and there was a lot of stuff at great prices.  I was using all of mental capacities to decide what thing would work for what child as a gift, stocking stuffer, etc.  Matt would hate to be in my mind when I'm mulling decisions such as these.  TOO MANY WORDS.

Anyway, the kids kept coming to me and asking, "Mommy! Mommy!  Can I get this [stupid, useless piece of junk] ?"  They were interrupting my train of thought.  Exasperated, I finally asked, "How did I end up with eight kids!?"  I corrected myself, "I mean, I know how I got eight kids, but why are they all HERE right now?"
I bought each of them a small item.  They were satisfied and then headed back to the home place to leave me and the rest of the yard sales in peace.

Of course, we ate our of fill of German food over the weekend.  Sausage, kraut, kartoffel und kloss, kuchen, apple strudel, pfeffernusse, cabbage rolls and kraut ranzas.  We also enjoyed the parade, seeing the sheep (3,000!) that are eating down my Uncle's fields out at the farm and witnessing some gorgeous sunsets.
The highlight of the weekend for me, though, was getting more information about my Volga German heritage.  A man from Concordia University was in town giving presentations about the Volga Germans. I attended a couple of his talks and after the last one, I asked if he could tell me how to get started finding out how to trace my family's roots back to Germany.  He asked me my Uncle's name and then proceeded to show me a 124 page document following my family back twenty generations to the 1400s.  Alrighty then.  That saved me a lot of work.  I haven't had time to thoroughly comb through the information yet, but I was excited to put some of the bits and pieces I remember my Grandpa telling me about his parents into some sort of context.

I'd like to spend some time talking with some of the townspeople that remember my grandparents before they all pass away.  I wish that when I was younger I had cared about such things.  I have all sorts of questions for which I wish I had answers.  Anyway, I made a very good start.  What neat surprise God had in store for me this past weekend!

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Jude is 7

Jude's birthday was near the end of August.  We celebrated by going to the county fair.  Jude's big day happened to fall on the fair's "Kid's Day," so it worked out perfectly.
Jude's biggest concerns were getting to ride a couple of rides and seeing the rodeo.  We fulfilled both of those wishes.  We also saw Grace's photography entries and Elizabeth's dress.  Grace accidentally entered Liz in the adult class, but Liz's dress still received a blue ribbon.  The whole family was so excited for her.
 We also dropped by the bee booth to see Lydia.  She spent a few hours that day answering people's questions about bees and giving them honey samples.  She was in her element.

Jude took the whole family to Dairy Queen for dinner with a gift card he had received for his birthday from Grandpa Tom and Grandma Jane.  After dinner, we headed back to the fair to partake of elephant ears and the rodeo.
Joseph is really into horses right now, so he loved every minute of the show.  Daddy and I tried to convince Jude that we should head home at about 8:30 p.m.  No dice--he wanted to stay to the very end, so that's what we did.  Thankfully, Auntie Em and Uncle Wade watched Rachel for us during our time at the fair (almost 8 hours).
The next day, the whole family enjoyed another party for Jude at his godparent's house.  We got to go swimming and grill hamburgers (Jude never gets tired of those) and birthday cake--chocolate, with cowboys on top.
 

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

As You Like It (or not)

I took the two big girls to see Shakespeare's As You Like It Sunday afternoon.  I debated about taking them.  I knew that the timing was bad (canning, birthday parties, etc.) and the tickets were pricey. However, I finally pulled the trigger and asked Matt if he'd order us some tickets.

Let me just interject here.  My first experience with seeing a Shakespeare play performed live was in Ashland, OR. at the outdoor Elizabethan Theater.  I went with my high school English teacher and a few other students.  We saw Macbeth (who knew that within a few years I would marry my very own Macduff?!) and A Mid-Summer Night's Dream.  I don't think we could have seen a better combination of plays.  The performances, the costumes, the atmosphere--everything was outstanding.  So basically, every experience I've had with Shakespeare since has been disappointing.

I wish I could say Sunday's performance was different.   The play was set in modern times, which I didn't realize until after we'd purchased tickets.  I saw Measure for Measure in college at ritzy little theater in the big city.  It also was set in modern times.  It didn't thrill me.  Nevertheless, I tried to keep an open mind.  On the drive to the play on Sunday, I told the girls that at the very least, we would get a bit of culture that day.  Or something like that.

When we arrived, we realized that Matt had procured tickets for us in the front and center of the theater. We could have spat on the stage from where we sat.  I've never had any poker face abilities, so I'm sure my distaste during parts of the play were evident to the actors, who probably thought I had a very closed mind.  So be it.

While the performances were very well done (they brought in a Shakespeare troupe from the big city), the play was what I would consider PG 13. Shakespeare's comedies do lend themselves to bawdiness, but this was over the top.  Enough said. For me, the highlight of the play was Jaques' "All the world's a stage" which is a passage I had to memorize in high school.  The actress (yes, three of the traditionally male characters were played by women) did an outstanding job with that.

During the intermission, the girls and I headed out to the parking lot to eat a snack in the car.  We laughed hysterically over Elizabeth's take on the situation.  "That guy who is playing Orlando should have a size bigger pants" ('twas true),   "I couldn't look at the priest in the forest," (who was sporting plumber's crack--on purpose) and "When we go back in, I'm switching seats because the old guy next to me is a creep.  He's laughing like crazy.  It's not that funny.  Maybe a smile would be o.k., but not laughing out loud."

When the play was over (what a relief), we decided to do some thrifting.  This particular town has a great Goodwill.  The girls made a nice haul.  I talked them into heading home instead of eating out. We reached the home place around 7 p.m.  I cooked myself some of our own chicken eggs topped with Tillamook cheese, sliced myself some homegrown tomatoes and toasted a piece of Dave's Killer Sprouted Bread.  Fleur de Sel and freshly ground pepper finished the dish nicely.  A nice ending to long day, except that while we were gone, Matt decided to switch the boys' rooms around and was only midway through the project when we got home.  Oh well.  All's Well That Ends Well.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

A Needle in the Haystack. . .

. . . or in this case,  Paul's heel.  Yes, Paul did it again.  He stepped on a sharp object which deeply embedded itself into his flesh.

Liz is feverishly sewing a dress which she hopes to complete and enter into the county fair this weekend.  Thus the needle on the family room floor--the needle that found its way into Paul's foot Tuesday night about 9.

After unsuccessfully attempting minor surgery ourselves (Matt with his reading glasses, me without--thank you very much), we realized it was time to consult the professionals.  The urgent care clinics in our area were closed for the night, so I gave Paul some Advil and told him to go to bed.

Yesterday morning, I left nearly 200 lbs of peaches waiting to be canned at home and took Paul to the urgent care.  Even though we arrived within a few minutes of opening time, there were already two laceration cases ahead of us.  When the doctor came in to see Paul, he explained that foreign bodies in flesh are notoriously difficult to retrieve, but he would give it a go.  I liked the doctor right from the start.  He was an older man with a pin on his white coat that said, "I treat.  Jesus heals."

First, the doctor numbed Paul's foot.  This was definitely the most painful part of the procedure, but Paul took it like a man.  As the doctor consulted the X ray he had taken to see the needle's placement, he cut an incision.  The needle had gone almost straight in. The doctor made a valiant attempt, but ended up referring us to a podiatrist. He warned us that surgery was a strong possibility.  Before we left his office, the doctor offered to pray with us and we gladly accepted.

The podiatrist was a cool guy, at least in Paul's book.  An avid hunter, his office was decorated with lots of game bird prints and not a few taxidermied birds.  He had a great sense of humor and put Paul at ease.  He told us that surgery might be the only answer, but that he would make an attempt to get the needle out then and there.  After more X rays, another injection and a deeper incision, the doctor managed to retrieve the needle, which he said was pure dumb luck, but I had been praying during the whole procedure :)

Paul now has stitches in his foot and orders to not shower for a few days.  Medical conditions do have their perks.  Not to mention the fact that his mom felt very sorry for him and treated him to lunch at Carl's Jr.  Paul also had orders to stay off of his foot for the remainder of the day, so his dad and younger brothers took over his hand line moving job last night


.  And Liz has been told to keep pins and needles off of the floor.  We shall see.

Monday, August 10, 2015

The Tale of Two Vacations--August *2014*

Alright, I found this post from last September in my drafts folder.  For the sake of posterity, I'm publishing it.

This is an overdue post on our family vacation which happened way back at the beginning of August. We went to Rockaway Beach, OR.  We spent the first few days of the vacation with Matt's side of the family and the last few days with my parents (thus the two vacations).  The weather was great and the kids had a blast playing on the beach with their cousins.
First, though, we had a looong drive to get to the beach.  Before that, there was much preparation in order to ready our crew for half a dozen days away from home.  The kids and I worked hard to get a bunch of meals prepped and frozen and to get everything packed the week before we were to leave.

In all of our studying about Lewis and Clark, I can say I felt I could relate in a smallish way to the enormity of the task Lewis faced in preparing for the expedition.  Packing a family of ten for six days with all manner of accoutrement and eventualities is no small feat.  In fact, I missed the mark.  I hadn't expected the kids to get sopping wet and sandy multiple times per day and I forgot how much fresh ocean air increases appetites.   I didn't pack enough changes of clothing (I was trying to pack as lightly as possible, hah!), so I ended up doing several loads of laundry a day while we were at the beach house.  I also did not pack enough food (I know!  Hard to imagine.) and I ended up driving to Tillamook several times to buy more groceries.

Anyway, when the big day to leave for the beach finally arrived, I think the kids were nearly ready to explode with excitement.  We piled into our very loaded van and were on the road by 8:30 a.m.  Pretty incredible for us. (Matt's brother and his family--13 in all--beat us by a landslide.  They succeeded in leaving by 6 a.m. on their day of departure.)  Our family listened to The Frontier Adventures of Elinore Stewart during the drive.  The whole family loved it.  Victoria Botkin has such a soothing reading voice.
 We stopped at the Columbia Gorge Discovery Center in the Dalles on the way.  We got there just in time for their morning falconry demonstration.  My boys especially liked seeing the hawks and Bald Eagles up close.  They asked many questions of the faconers.  Later, a woman who had been to the show stopped me in the bathroom.  She said she had been an educator for thirty years and she had a question for me.   "Are your kids homeschooled?"  I answered, "Yes, they are."  She said, "I thought so.  I said to my husband, 'She homeschools those kids.' "  That was nice to hear.

 Of course, we all enjoyed seeing the Lewis and Clark cargo exhibits.  However, we did miss not being able to see the life size reproduction keel boat that we saw when we visited the Discovery Center the year of the Lewis and Clark bicentennial celebration.  The boys had a blast in the kids' room dressing up and playing with the long rifles.  We had a hard time convincing them that it was time to hit the road again, but promises of playing on the beach before dinner finally worked their magic and we got everyone loaded into the van again.

We made one more stop on the way.  We stopped at the Tillamook Forest Center.  We all climbed up to the lookout tower, where (mostly) young people took summer jobs watching for forest fires. Matt's grandfather used to be a forest fire spotter, so it was neat to tie that bit of family history to what the kids experienced while we visited the forest center.  The exhibits inside the main building were really interactive and very well done.  And it was free!  Highly recommended.
Our family was the last to arrive at the beach that evening.  Our family and Matt's brother's family stayed in a very large duplex.  Matt's parents and sister and her family stayed in the house next door. The kids never lacked for playmates.  We enjoyed big family dinners, lots of beach time with kite flying and sand castle building, eating smores', playing golf and getting to sleep in bunk beds (that was my boys' favorite.)  We managed to get a family picture with most all of us wearing the traditional Macduff family vacation T-shirts.  For this trip, Matt's sister designed a shirt with a picture of the big rock of Rockaway Beach and this verse from Genesis, "I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the sand on the seashore."
When my parents arrived, we visited the Tillamook Air Museum, got my mom on the beach with a beach wheel chair loaned to us by the local Lion's Club, collected shells and played some wild poker games (the kids and grandma).




We also visited Fort Clatsop.  It was neat to hear the older kids' memories of our first trip there.  The boys' loved the long rifle demonstration (what's not to like?) and the picnic lunch.  Joel, Jude and Isaac all filled out the necessary paperwork to get their junior ranger certificates.  Lydia wasn't able to finish hers before we had to leave (it was surprising difficult) so when she got home she finished, mailed it back to Fort Clatsop and then they mailed her a badge and certificate.  I thought that was very kind of them.





Alas, all good things must come to an end.  The kids didn't want to leave the beach, but I told them to best time to leave is when you're still having fun so that you want to come back the next time.