Emery A Swan - Monte's Dad Died

This is the obituary for Monte's dad. Monte's Mom started telling the mortuary man a list of a lot of these things until we said we'd write it. So Monte did the initial writing with many of us editing, including some grandkids and his mom. A wonderful man: son, brother, uncle, friend, husband, dad, grandpa, and great-grandpa! A rich heritage is carrying on ...

Emery Swan

Emery A. Swan, 89, of Ogema, went to be with his Lord on January 15, 2010 at his home in Town of Hill. He was born Easter Sunday, April 4, 1920, on the family farm, to Oscar and Selma Swan, the sixth of 12 children. He attended Ring School in Town of Hill, and later, night school in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Em loved hunting, fishing, and playing baseball with his brothers. Eventually he played as a semi-professional for the Wisconsin Valley League. In the late 1930’s, he worked in Chicago for a commercial construction company that sent him to Utah and New York on various assignments.

In March 1947, Em eloped with the love of his life, Betty Hallstrand. They bought a home on Pearson Lake where they lived for two years while Em logged with his brother. Em and Betty then moved to Shawano where they owned and operated a deli. After selling it, they relocated to Franklin, Wisconsin where Em worked as a carpenter. Eventually he became foreman and layout man for Kilps & Sons and in the 1960’s he was instrumental in helping them become Wisconsin’s largest conventional builder. Em and Betty were members of Beloit Road Baptist Church where Em was a trustee, helped with the Boy’s Brigade Club, built a kitchen, and crafted a special cedar ceiling for the new church.

Most of Em’s spare time was spent with his boys: teaching and mentoring them in the fine points of hunting and fishing, and supporting and coaching them as they pursued baseball, golf, track, cross country and basketball (attending over 500 of his sons’ basketball games). As a Little League coach he made sure all team members played and they went undefeated in a league of 14 teams.

In 1985, Em retired and he and Betty moved home to Town of Hill. They built a home on Highway C where he raised ginseng and balsam Christmas trees—winning 1^st place at the Ogema Christmas Tree Festival. This tender, kind-hearted, good-natured man had a great sense of humor. He endeared all with the expressions “ding-dong-it”, “blame-it-anyway,” and “Oh, fright”. Em was a wonderful grandfather, playing, listening, and laughing with his grandchildren. He supplied his sons with maple syrup he made the old fashioned open-air way. With his close friend Dennis Vesely, he logged and worked in the woods until September 2009.

Em and Betty loved to travel, visiting Canada, Mexico, and all lower 48 states. In the early days they traveled with their sons, and during their retirement with Em’s older brother Clifford Swan and wife Melba. On a later trip to Wyoming with Ray and Julie Ploof, Em enjoyed the surprise of Betty’s birthday party.

Em’s philosophy on life was, “I’m in God’s hands so why worry.” This wonderful outlook persisted as he coped with cancer. Never complaining, he was blessed by having no pain, which mystified his doctors.

The name Emery means “family strength… industrious, hard worker”, and this certainly described Em. He had a gift for inspiring men to create with pride, looking beyond the labor, anticipating the completed product. But Em excelled at family strength and his greatest joy was spending time with his family. They now total 50, including 20 grandchildren and 10 great grandchildren (all boys), the youngest born to Travis and Sarah Swan on January 9^th named Emery Revere Swan.

For many years Em’s boys watched their father sit at the dining room table a few minutes before they left for church, and write the family’s weekly check for the Lord’s work. This action showed them in no uncertain terms where his treasures were. Em’s tangible love for Betty and the irresistible force of his sacrificial love for and belief in the boys and in God, won the sons’ hearts. Through their lives they’ve sought to honor this amazing man.

Em is survived by Betty, his wife of 62 years, his sons and daughters-in-law: Monte (Karey) Swan, Evergreen Colorado; Mike (Linda) Swan, Green Bay Wisconsin; Mark (Cindy) Swan, Gillette Wyoming; and Scott (Chris) Swan, Fennimore Wisconsin. He was preceded in death by four brothers and three sisters.

A memorial service was held January 18 at Ogema Baptist Church. Pallbears were: Danny Swan, Dennis Vesely, Gary Swan, Jim Swan, Scott Wildberg, and Steve Swan. The funeral was conducted by Pastor Rodney Price of the Ogema Baptist church. The Heindl Funeral Home assisted the Family with arrangements.

Typical Grandpa

Family & Thanksgiving Day

As I said before, we went to Travis and Sarah's place for Thanksgiving. Ft Collins, Colorado is 1 1/2 hour drive from us. Sarah's parents, John and Kerry, drove up from Texas. Her sister Annie and husband Aaron flew in from Oregon. Heather, Will, Monte and me drove up mid-day. Dawson drove up later with Splarah and her brother Phil, having had an earlier Thanksgiving meal with Splarah's family at her Grandmother's.


I've not seen Dawson's pictures yet except our family picture he posted on Facebook, so I grabbed the picture from there to post here. All the other pictures I took.


Travis first grilled/smoked the turkey and then finished baking it in the oven. Sarah's feeling quite pregnant, due in a little over a month - she's hugging the cook. Her mom and sister did most of the cooking. Because her family was here, they had a baby shower for her last weekend too, so we drove up again.


I'm posting a picture of some of us playing "Bananagrams" because of wanting to tell of the table we're on. Kerry brought the game and it was so fun that Dawson bought it and we played it here with company Saturday. It's a kind of Scrabble/Boggle game and few to lots of people can play. Aaron made Travis and Sarah their main table. We gave them this cabinet we'd gotten from my grandmother, thinking they'd really use it more than us. The front of the cabinet pulls out and leaves stored inside unfold to lay out on top creating a table as long as maybe 15 feet if needed. And the wonder of it all is it's the same width and height as the table Aaron built for them. So when there's lots of us, the couches are slid over to the dining area and the tables butted together.

Wonder Time

Woke early this morning thinking of the film clip I posted yesterday. Thinking of things it reminded me of ...

We've had guests for a couple days - an investor friend of Monte's and his son. As Don and Monte are talking, Micah's been wandering around wondering what to do. We've talked, but I don't entertain kids. I didn't entertain my kids. Sure we read together, made things together, and played games together, but I also often left them on their own to think up their own things to do, and TV and video games was never an option since we didn't have those. We didn't even have neighbor kids as an option to go play with. Micah's been having some fun, but I think it's been very different for him.

Dawson came home, first meeting us at a Thai restaurant for a supper together and then was here yesterday. Some of his friends came yesterday late afternoon to help him go get composted horse manure and shovel it into our back area for me to scatter over all my garden areas putting them to bed for winter (and I've got some bulbs to plant in my new areas for early Spring flowers). As everyone awaited the great supper I was making, Dawson and friends started playing with all the music instruments we've gathered over the years. Phil was trying to play the mandolin - very creatively successful. Dawson pulled out a flute we were given, for Splarah to try. Aaron started providing rhythm by overturning a trash bin. Monte even was trying to play the saw. I hated to tell them supper was ready! Micah saw cool guys totally uninhibited enjoying making music and hanging around the dining table with gay conversation.

The film clip reminds me of the movie "August Rush". I love that movie. An orphan boy with an austere childhood lives with hope that his parents didn't abandon him and will find him. When he escapes the orphanage I sat with pins-and-needles awaiting evil. Only Robin Williams is the character who abuses this boy's innocence and giftedness. I love his first experience of the hustling, bustling big city. He hears and feels rhythmic music in the traffic and horn honking and all. When exposed to a guitar and left alone with it, he explores it in ways no one usually does. I don't want to tell you anything more about the movie.

I don't know if my youngest brother Robby remembers - he's about ten years younger than me - we used to sit out in our front yard together. We'd sit looking at the gravel in our drive and I'd see pretty ones and I actually collected them, putting them in my jewelry box. I'd tell Robby to listen. "Tell me what you hear ...?" We'd sit that way for a long time.

Have you ever taken the time to sit and watch ants? They'll string out in a long line, some of them carrying stuff. Stuff often larger and probably heavier than themselves. How do they do that? On a crowded street there's such variety of people to watch, but do you notice plants growing in cement, rock, and asphalt cracks and stop to wonder? do you notice the variety of birds 'voices'? I've stopped to observe pigeons, wanting to know what their mannerisms and voices are like, since I'm unfamiliar with them.

The key here is taking time to notice. Maybe it would mean closing our eyes to shut out the normal and listen for the new, feel and sense stuff more, like in the film clip. Like 'be still and know that I am God' kind of time. When the disciples wanted to shove off the insignificant children, Jesus took them on his lap and told us to come to him as a child.

There's such an innocent trust in children, an abandonment in their work and play, so there in the moment, and such a sense of wonder - all pieces of worship.

Dust Quote

Monte sent me another quote that I'll post here to capture (and delete the email) and then comment.

Stop dusting, and you can use your coffee table as a message board!

I'll have to ask him where it came from, but I think I know why he sent it. It's not that my coffee table or any table is so dusty. For some miraculous reason our house doesn't create much dust (but don't look too close). I think he sent it cuz I have a quote (Sarah wrote my quote on our graffiti chalkboard wall in the bathroom) -

"Dust is Country"
- Karey Swan

Our home is a country home with a country look and feel, and dust is a part of that. Is it that we hardly have any dust? Or does the decor just not glaringly show forth dust? Or do I decorate country so I don't have to dust? What tis the question?

Family

I have pictures of my kids I want to post, but don't know what to say. Don't know what to say? That's not like me when it comes to writing ... But all I have to do is start writing and it'll flow. It is close to bedtime, but in cleaning up my computer's desktop for traveling (I take my Macbook most places with me), I've had these pictures ready to post for awhile.

Traveling? Monte and me are leaving in the morning. For years I've wanted to go to the Taos Wool Festival. We're going along with dear old friends (double meaning there: they are old friends and we are getting older!). Jim was one of Monte's roommates before we all got married, maybe his last one, before me. The last couple roommates readied that barbaric house for me, which has it's strange stories. (Some time I need to reminisce more with stories.) Marty was one of our witnesses when Monte and me eloped - good someone's around to prove we were married! Jim and Marty married soon after us. (I'd post pics of them too, but I packed away my Lacey hard-drive where all my photos are since they take up so much room on my computer). The Johnson's live an hour away. I'll report on the wool festival.

The first picture is of Heather and her Bill at a Military Ball soon after they were married. It's a nice picture of them I love, and the beginning of a new life for them. Just seeing her dressed up like this is so different from her typical country western wear. So this picture was probably taken almost 1 1/2 years ago. Her long blond hair is pulled back, and look at those glowing smiles!

The picture of Travis and Sarah I pulled from Trav's facebook album of recent pictures at Sarah's family reunion in Kansas. It's so cute of them, I love it. See her growing pregnant belly? what she's calling her little rutabaga. It's a big, active boy, due in January. They are naming him Emery Revere Swan (Emery after Monte's dad, and Revere is from Sarah's side).

I guess the picture of Dawson and Splarah is from Dawson's facebook photos. I love this picture too. It is 'Splarah' - her license plate says so. They've been good friends since they were little. In college now, they're still good friends and very close. If she joins our family some day, she's got to remain Splarah cuz it's too difficult when we're all together and there's already a Sarah (her friends of old gave her the nic-name).

Our grown kids are our best friends. Now Grandkids are coming. We're enjoying this season of life.
__________

Family faces are magic mirrors looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present, and future.
-- Gail Lumet Buckley

... families are like potatoes. The best parts are underground.
-- Francis Bacon

You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them.
-- Desmond Tutu

Lone Ranger

I just read a quote by Dan Rather and thought of this picture of young Dawson. I often played classical music for home background 'noise' to mellow harsh noises of telephone or whatever that might disturb a nap, and it is nourishing to my being.

I remember Dawson bouncing up a storm on this horse - even to this music ... did he think he was a Lone Ranger cowboy? Don't even know how much he'd seen of cowboy movies then. But it was one way to release his much excess energy!

"An intellectual snob is someone who can listen to the William Tell Overture and not think of The Lone Ranger."

Bear Sagas

I'm reminiscing about bears since my last post. Last night, going down to the kitchen for something, I did look out the window wondering whether I'd see a bear again. But I did remind myself, and Monte, that bears seem to cycle through every two or three days ... That is if it feels there's something to return for.

I'm a city born and raised girl. My favorite books were those about country living. Am I living in the country now? Am I truly living in the mountains? Living at 8000 feet may seem like mountains to many. I do remember drawing a picture for the kids when we were traveling around Washington with Monte as he'd do geology things.

The first third of our marriage we traveled with Monte (that's about twelve years). We'd be gone about a week and home for a couple then gone again. Homeschooling flowed into that lifestyle since we wanted to continue being with Monte. When Monte was looking for old prospects in brambly Washington and visiting geologic companies we were there for six weeks. My journal says I only saw the sun for 15 minutes here and there and luckily the sky was clear when we were in Seattle and could get a view of the mountains.

Most of the coast's mountains are 8000 feet tall - that's where I live! occasionally you'd see a 14er, like Mt Hood or Baker and St Helen's before it blew. What I drew for the kids was those mountains in comparison to sea level. Denver is a mile high, so we're hardly 2500 feet over that with 14ers behind us. So I live in the foothills. I can be to the edge of Denver in half-an-hour and most people who live around us commute to Denver for work and play daily. So am I in the country? Since we've had chickens, turkeys, ducks, geese, and bees, I think that's 'country'. Since we have deer, elk, coyotes, fox, mountain lions, and bear ... that's country. (Dawson took the photo of the elk in our neighbor's trailer with straw.)

When walking in the country around Vancouver and Washington I'd heard to make noise so you don't startle a bear. When one summer we were having many bear sitings, especially a mother with cubs, I remembered about making noise. My lower garden and chicken coop are on the edge of the woods. So what noise did I make one day? Don't ask me why, cuz there was no pre-meditated thought behind it ... but I just started singing - "Bears eat oats, and does eat oats, and little lambs eat ivy/ A kid'll eat ivy too, wouldn't you" (or is it 'mares'?).

Bears put a damper on the kids sleeping out in a tent all summer that year. I was hanging clothes out to dry that summer (tho it's the 'green' thing to do, did you know neighborhoods are fighting the issue do to covenants against clotheslines?). As i was carrying the laundry basket a bear was startled and stood up. Now THAT'S Big, and scary, and I was startled! So for the rest of this summer I'm going to probably be doing more looking over my shoulder and looking for bears everywhere.

In an August 2007 post, I told of finishing off the garage and the garage doors were open. All the bear got into that time was the dog food. We now always look each evening to make sure the garage doors are closed. I have marked on my calendar in August about a bear in the garage in 2001 (I like to remember things). Monte and me were awakened in the night by a plasticy sound against the driveway gravel. It was a bear licking clean an ice cream tub. That bear had eaten a VERY well-rounded meal! It had eaten a ham, peaches, bread, spinach, and then ice cream for dessert.

Bears are DIRTY! That bear had opened the chest freezer and left dirty, greasy smudges all along the edge of the freezer. We had an old carpet in the garage at the time with exercise equipment on it. Over time dirt started building up in areas, showing forth bear footprints. Bear footprints ... that reminds me - we do have some plaster casts still of bear footprints the kids and me made from prints left on the dirt road.

Monte wants Dawson to add fencing wire over the screen windows in the bunk house. We built a 'bunk house' in the mid 90's for kids to sleep in. Since I'm in the story-telling mood, I'll tell "the rest of the story" ... The bunk house was originally built right behind our house, close to it. We didn't want to keep it there. Well, what often happens around here is we sit around talking for long spells, and action often follows. It was winter. "How's about pulling the bunk house around the house over the snow like a sled?" ... "I'll wager it'll fall apart." ... "Naw it won't." As you can see, it's sitting quite nicely, intact, and it's even shingled. The number 4 you see on the door in the lower picture? is for Dawson's frisbee golf course.

One summer Monte and me slept in the bunkhouse until it got so rainy and felt musty damp all the time. Two sides are window screen (we don't even cover the open windows in the winter - snow doesn't get in). Company overflow sleep there. It has built in plywood sleeping areas, a couch with lamp table and a desk. Monte plastered copied photos all over one wall (reminds me of a place we rented that had Norman Rockwell pics all over the outhouse walls. I wish I'd saved them before the old place collapsed under snow!). Dawson is sleeping in the bunkhouse this summer, along with his friends when they are staying over (partly in consideration of Heather and baby Will). If they leave any food scraps of any kind a bear could easily get in!

BEAR

I had to open up August 2007 to see what I posted. I began this blog almost two years ago and I remembered a lot of initial posts about a bear. That's when we FINALLY after years of frustration got an electric fence! Now we can sleep in peace and Monte doesn't have to sleep out in a tent with his gun. :-D

Yes, there is a story of Monte sleeping out there. An old friend used to make up songs about some of our sagas and a naked Monte sneaking about our neck of the woods was put to music. One of the naked Monte stories involved a skunk ... are you curious? I might tell you.

Monte heard a bear last night. I heard his footsteps upstairs running, not meandering. I was knitting. I finally took the time to undo part of a monkey I'm knitting and figuring it out so I can continue.

It was a good day yesterday. I had bought more perennial plants last week. I read in the 2007 August postings that I strive to fill in spots in my perennial beds for blooming throughout the seasons ... which reminds me of an old book by Gene Stratton-Porter called The Harvester in which the main character prepared his home setting for a woman in need of healing. He took care in planning the gardens thinking through the season's visual interests. And I'm still filling in spots, both with new purchases, starting my own plants, dividing my old plants and moving things around.

Ahhh ... Gene Stratton-Porter ... if you've not read her books ... We visited her historic place in Indiana on a road trip. At that time they were excited because something like a time-capsule was found in Alaska containing old movies. They were hoping some of Gene's old movies would be in there since some of them are long gone. For years we've collected and read all her books, written in the early 1900's.

Most people are familiar with Freckles and Girl of the Limberlost. Gene was a lady ahead of her times and yet so much a part of her times in a way that helped me see my grandmother Nellie Herder's world. Characters in her books were herbalists collecting plants and insects and such from the woods for that day's medicines. My grandmother was a homeopathic nurse and she understood these medicines and would grumble about the new medicines the medical world was moving into. Gene's characters were photographers, moth collectors (there are moth's more beautiful than butterflies - I know, cuz Dawson has some in his collection - and that's got its own stories I could tell) and bird watchers and keepers of the woods so lumber companies couldn't cut down heirloom trees. Gene herself made her bathroom into a darkroom for developing her own photos (I did that in high school - fun).

Anyway, I'm still gardening. I woke this morning with thoughts of moving some plants, like a grapevine, to Dawson's newest bed he just finished. This is the last bed to be made. I didn't want to make him do anymore rock work, which meant collecting truckloads of rock from excavating a neighbor did as well as truckloads of topsoil. BUT, when I said I'd be content to leave the area the already flat level it was, he said, "But I want to make a spiral bed!" Wasn't he joking? No! "Okay, go ahead and do what you want." Monte finished posts that extend our pergola out into the new deck to the hot tub. (Remember the old posts about the oozing hot tub plant bed that collapsed? It's just finished now too. And it's still oozing/draining from the gravel and pipe the boys put in.)(See the blue wheel-barrow in the above picture? All this labor over the years ruined it. Dawson forged and welded the metal anew and Monte sanded and refurbished the wood handles. I painted it. It's like new!)

Once all the rocks are moved, finishing off some areas left in limbo, we'll get the last bit of area ready to put down some sod. Beyond his spiral bed is an area Monte will finish. He's already dumped large lichen covered rocks and will arrange it along with the knight he brought up from the lower garden and he wants to move some natural plants from the surrounding meadows, like Colorado wild irises and kinnikinnik bushes (notice it spells backwards the same?)(and there's a kinnikinnik story I could tell of Travis). Monte still has to get some picket fencing - he wants French Gothic - to do some finishing garden visual touches and make gates for the split-rail fence.

Gates ... lack of ... that's where the bear came through last night. Originally it was in our trash trailer - that's when Monte heard it. We went up to his office for a better view. I couldn't get a picture of it. The motion-sensor light on the tree went on backlighting the bear standing in the trailer rummaging for anything edible. The only smelly thing in there would be diapers (Heather's switched to cloth diapers now when not on the road). But not diapers ... he found some of Dawson's vehicle trash and licked clean some Starbucks cups. With composting and recycling there's nothing worth raiding the trailer for anymore.

We thought he'd go get into the compost bins, which Monte thought "okay - he'd stir it up" :) - but he didn't. He/she/it just rambled toward the house. We had to run down from the office to head him off. That's when Monte saw him come under the electric fence at a spot Dawson's finishing rock stairs up from the driveway parking area to our backyard. He could have then ruined the birdfeeders, like the bear did over and over again two years ago. Monte yelled him away and proceeded, in his socks and underwear, to put a board in front of the future gate opening and put the rails back into the split-rail where the truck has been driving through. He said, "It's an adolescent bear"... "How can you tell?!" ... "It's not big". I thought it big enough ... big enough to do damage ... control of my domain has be shattered.

It was a nice day ... I finished planting, putting my watering wand on mist to keep me cool while planting and weeding, cleaned everything up before it rained, knit listening to "Prairie Home Companion" and went to church. Went to church last night cuz Monte left early to go fishing. Dawson and friends are up Mt Evans backpacking. They left Friday morning and will come home Monday night. Monte's meeting them on top at Lincoln Lake and will come home later today with fish. Yes he will ... he always comes home from that lake with fish. It's a snowmelt sink hole near the top of the 14,000 foot mountain top. He has to hike down about 1000 feet. Dawson hiked up.

Me? I didn't go. "Enjoy your day!" Monte said as he kissed me goodbye as I lay in bed. I've now taken time to write! Hi. Bye. Tata for now.

Awesome Dawson!

Today is Dawson's birthday. He's left the world of the teens, yet according to current culture he's not yet an adult. So he's a Betweeny!

I posted more pictures to my photoblog commemorating, celebrating Dawson! And I added some photos on Travis' birthdate, April 11, celebrating him. Since photoblog won't let us post more than 5 pictures a day now, I've stretched them out.

Dawson is finishing up his excellerated classes tomorrow, then done with this very hard semester May 11. He can't wait. We're proud of him. He's working so hard to be an honors student which pays his tuition. He's becoming good friends with his teachers and they love going for coffee with him and spending time with him and talking with him. He likes the teachers better than his fellow students, excepting the honors students. They're finishing up a pretty cool project due this Friday - lots of historic places - pasts and present - and eating in cool places.

But he's really up in the air as to his future. One teacher opened up to him many possibilities beyond a business major, taking his personality and giftings into consideration. So all of a sudden he's feeling in limbo ... and talking with tons of people about it.

Like I've said many times - it's going to be very interesting to see where Dawson ends up, for his life's work, or what's going to support his many interests, besides a family!

1sts of Spring

I mentioned last year about our Firsts of Spring charts I used to always recreate every year. It's so ingrained that we all have eyes to see, without a chart. Sitting here, I just heard a flicker bird drumming his beak on our stove pipe. That's always a 'first' I look for - it's a mating thing.

I just walked around outside with my cup of breakfast tea looking for garden firsts. I'm seeing an inch of bulb greenery starting to poke through. No Glory of Snow, chionodoxa, in the grass yet. Yes, in the grass. I posted last fall about aerating my grass - I did it with a hand drill!! dropping the little bulbs in the holes (I had posted it on Facebook and my son Travis responded, "I hope you're not going to start cutting your grass with scissors!")

I had read about putting those flower bulbs in the grass, then there'd be a carpet of purple-blue first thing in the spring, and die back by the time to mow. I can't wait!

I need to walk around in the meadow and see if any wild crocus, pasque flowers, are up yet. That's another first. What else do we look for? The first robin and bluebird. In May the hummingbirds come and I love hearing them all summer, looking for the fiesty Rufous to show up early July. Hummingbirds leave Laborday weekend. We look for Aspen tree catkins, coming before the leaves. The kids would often run to me saying, "I smelled the first stink bug!"

Have you cleaned out your birdhouses? I told you to last month. Little bugs in old nests can kill this year's babies. We look for cow birds each spring, and the boys had permission to shoot them. I know that's not politically correct, but they are parasites (Audubon says, "promiscuous" - no pairing). They lay eggs in other bird nests and because their babies are bigger, growing faster, they starve out the other babies. Luckily we only have a couple that come around, my hope is, if the birdhouse hole size is specific to the bird, they usually can't get in. I do like their gurgling notes. Travis and me, and then Dawson and me, made lots of our birdhouses over the years.

Spring? I know it's not spring yet. I heard that Denver usually gets around 45" of snow each year, but only 18" this year. We are so dry, but we're probably not done yet. Unfortunately we often get dumped on in March - April (like 3 feet! Spring dumps melt fast, but not that one Christmas dump!). As the garden wise-guys I listen to on the radio have been saying, "don't let this beautiful spring-like weather we've been having fool you!" But with the warm weather predicted this week, I will go out and water again.

Monte and me already got a load of manure, the rancher filling both our trailer and the back of the pickup. That's the earliest we've ever gotten it. But with the nice weather ... and when I start needing it, we usually have snow and the ground around the manure pile is so mucky. So now we're prepared!

Dawson took the picture of my statue with snow on the back table in January when I was in Texas.

Smiling Will

Heather sent me another picture of Will. I need to call her. I haven't cuz I've been so sick with the flu since it hit hard last Wednesday night. My fever stopped Sunday night and today is the first day my body's not aching and not minding the feel of clothes. But my voice is weak, sometimes giving out, and I try not to cough, as much as I'm able. Still wondering if I should keep my dental appointment Thursday ...

The last time I was this sick was when the Denver Broncos went to the Supper Bowl. I can't tell you when cuz sports isn't my thing and I don't hold those things in my brain. We had gone to a friend's house cuz we don't have a TV (no reception, cable or satellite)(only watch movies). I sat in the background knitting and coughing. Because I didn't slow down enough then, it went into a secondary infection, and I don't want that to happen this time.

Now if we had TV, all this sick time I could have watched the Food Network, History or Discovery Channel ... But instead, I've gone thru all the library books I had on Cottage/Kitchen Gardens, dreaming, and ordered my fruiting plants and veggie seeds. I also have been researching tapestry online and reading the books I have.

What I didn't tell you, is that when I was in Texas with Heather, Monte drove down past the heart of Denver on Supper Bowl Sunday and picked up my large tapestry loom I bought from craigslist the day after Thanksgiving, having sold my large Swedish Glimakra loom (I'm going to miss that loom for it's beauty, but I still have a smaller 8-harness one).

I'm the one who found out what my secondary infection was that last time. I have a history with illnesses (and our doctor's often call Monte "Doctor Monte", he's so analytical). They had done the typical-to-today swab of the throat with the quick strep test. I told them to also swab a petri dish and watch it. It wasn't until a week later that it showed up as positive!

I had strep a lot as a kid. If it wasn't for my Homeopathic Grandma making me continuously eat yogurt, my body would really be messed up today. Since antibiotics kill the good with the bad bacteria, yogurt helps us with the needed good bacteria the strengthens our system. My homemade yogurt is my favorite! I love eating it just plain.

In high school, because of strep, mono, and valley fever (a desert disease), antibiotics helped me graduate. But I couldn't have PE classes for two of my years - oh bummer - sure, remember me, the non-sport, hate exercise person?! But I had to take up the gap with something: so more hands-on classes! Since I already was taking my favorite art class, which I took every year, I took photography - roaming the campus with cameras and learning to work in the dark room; I took woodshop, and printing - learning movable type, block printing, etc.

Oh ... once Monte kissed me, I never had strep again except that one Supper Bowl year. Now what does that mean?!

Barbie

Barbie is 50 years old today. My aunt Recie gave me my first Barbie and it was identical to this picture - ponytail and dress. When I had heard awhile back how much that original Barbie was going for, I had to go look for my Barbie case. Yes, I still have it! And I thought I had saved that original head! But no. (That thought makes me think of all the doll heads I have around - all my bodyless felted heads. Am I weird? ....)

I saved a bunch of my Barbie paraphernalia. I had made lots of her clothes. My Grandma had knit a lot of her clothes. I made her a lot of dishes and pots and vases out of clay. I saved all the good CrackerJack prizes - like real books, to adorn her house. I braided her doll house rugs, sewed and wove curtains and pillows. I needlepointed things for her and embroidered. My mom taught a bunch of the neighbor girls to sew making Barbie clothes.

I never gave Heather a Barbie, but actually, Heather wasn't a doll girl. She used to have 'car families' and they'd talk and drive around with each other. (I'd bet you that Heather has the largest matchbox car collection! And she still has a lot of it. I found it when I was organizing her home!) But when we walked down a toy store aisle and little Heather saw "The Hart Family" (Barbie with a family) her eyes grew big and she looked up at me and breathlessly said, "Look Mommy, it's a FAMILY!"

We bought it!

My doll today sits on a shelf in our home on a velvet chair my Grandma made for me from an opened tunafish can.

Spiritual Birthdays and Tacos and stuff

Today is Travis's Spiritual Birthday and last thursday was Dawson's. When our kids were little there'd be God-talk-times, but there seems to be a definite time when children ask deeper questions and want to commit their life to God. Monte said he did it when he was eight, soon after realizing that his dad wasn't 'God' and in control of everything. He simply transferred that trust in his dad to trust in God.

I wrote these times on the calendar for each of our kids. Then each year we'd celebrate that birthday with a special treasure hunt meal. The meal had lots of condiments so we could hide them around the house. Since curry (which makes a great treasure hunt meal) isn't a favorite of my kids, we tended to do a taco meal. We'd make up riddles as clues to be left with each food item, guiding them to the next. Eventually everything is at the table and we can eat. There's a final note at their plate reminding them of their treasure in Heaven.

I quick fry corn tortillas so they're soft. Then there's bowls of cooked ground meat, grated cheese, chopped tomatoes, lettuce, green onions, and sour cream, and sometimes guacamole, chips and salsa, and maybe beans. It's one of my favorite childhood meals I grew up with, and my family loves it too. I prefer the soft cooked shells to the traditional crisp shells because the first bite tends to crack the shell down the middle and everything falls out! If you travel to Mexico soft corn tacos is traditional.

I still remember the first time we did this - and we usually retell the story. Heather was just learning to read. Monte was out of town and my sister Kelli was living with us (and that's a powerful story!) so I wrote out very simple clues. Travis, not able to read yet, was practically hanging on to Heather's shirt tail waiting for her to sound out the clues so they could run and find the food. Like she'd be saying, "Look in the re-frig g g g ..." with a hard 'g' sound, as she was slowly walking upstairs. Finally I said, "The refrigerator is not upstairs!" And they'd take off running and laughing.

When Deuteronomy says several times, "teach the children diligently", "tell the children" - this is kinda like another commemoration as is the Lord's Supper and Passover. I'll tell you, our kids never grew up wondering if they were a Christian or not. And what great memories we have celebrating (partying) together around God's Truth and Presence in our lives.

Yesterday at MOPS I did the devotional. It was Tea and Testimony day, so the whole time was filled with five people's stories. Lots of laughter, tears and evoked memories. I combined two things I've posted: The Jar of my life and the Spouse story.

Monte and me thought of some new connections: each of us, so not just me, but Monte, my kids, our friends ... have jars of their lives. I see the larger items as relational, long lasting, for better health and living beyond maintenance, and maybe even eternal. When I got to the part in the story where Sarah's mom felt an urging to pray for Sarah's future mate at the same timing as Travis' horrible illness (if you're lost you need to click on the above stories and read) - I really started crying this time! Through my tears as I put my hand over my beautiful jar of fruit (I took it as a visual aid) I told of the possibilities when other persons have a grapefruit in their jar that they've named "Heart Keeping" and have that relationship with God - that there's a depth in relationships between spouses, relations, friends and community.

I was given a glimpse, tho twenty-some years later, of what the power of prayer can be. And I bet paradise is going to be full of these stories!

Another twist Monte and me are still pondering, is what if two people marry and they seem compatible and their jars are just filled with sand? What might that say? I had quickly voiced the book title "Amusing Ourselves to Death" as a possibility.

This morning I emailed Heather, telling her I think I absorbed her fever last night. I'm sitting here with a thermometer in my mouth. Last night I all-of-a-sudden started getting a tickle-cough, and slept terribly hot, and now if I cough, it's hurting deeper than my throat. We'll see ... we so rarely get sick. I guess it would be good for my immune system.

Heather's fever is low-grade and comes and goes. She talked with the lactation nurse who helped us so much at the hospital. So between having her advice and all Heather's reading and doing, she's going to be ok. Probably the beginnings of mastitis. Other than still wishing she could sleep longer ... she's really enjoying little Will. She says he copies her facial expressions and likes holding her fingers.

My temp is 99.9.

Heather

Monte and Me have been trying to call Heather regularly. Sounds like Bill and her talk regularly too and see one another on their computers. Heather has both church and military wives, who's husbands are deployed in the same unit, getting together regularly with Heather too. She's not had to go to the grocery store, as others bring her her needs. Some come and clean. She's got gals to talk to and a new neighbor. She has gotten out on her own, walking and driving, getting used to the car seat, and stroller and all.

Other than learning everything new and getting used to one another, I think they're doing good. Heather tho is starting to feel some soreness and has a slight fever as of yesterday and will probably check into it tomorrow, if still the same or worse. So hopefully it's nothing much.

Heather has prayed very specifically since she was about 10 about her desires to marry and be a mother. I prayed too, that God would honor a little girl's prayers, who never gave up, tho she approached the age of 30 with neither. When she filled out her profile on eHarmony, initially, she had no matches. After talking with me about it she said, "Maybe I'm looking for Papa or Jesus." And then came Bill.

So more prayers please.

 

Anniversary and Spouse Prayers

I've been awake since 4:30. I could say it's menopause, or it could be having drunk a second pot of tea (I often reuse my tea leaves for a second pot - more robust than the sawdust dregs in most tea bags), or it's just the fact that sleep has often eluded me all my life. My body can be very tired but my brain never wants to shut off. Monte always makes fun of my "dichotomy", of talking of my brain and body as two separate beings - but they are! Anyway ... it's become a time the Creator gives me creative clarity.

Yesterday was Travis and Sarah's anniversary. Theirs is one week after Valentine Day, and Heather and Bill's anniversary is one week before Christmas (I guess I could say ours is almost one week before Thanksgiving). As a MOPS Mentor Mom, I've shared this story, and I see I posted it a year ago, so maybe I won't do it as a devotional again this year. Dawson took the pictures and photoshopped the one. It's a family story with "the rest of the story" aspect to it.

When our kids were little we used to have fun with them, telling them the future person they'd marry could be alive right then living somewhere in the world - like Australia, or down the street, or so-and-so. "Naw!" Monte and me are almost eight years apart, so it's fun to tell young kids that that person might not be born yet, or even worse (to them, when they're say 5) that that person might be 12 years old! "Naw!" But we talked about praying for that unknown person. And as teens - that whoever was dating your future mate, your hopes are that they'd protect and honor them, and the same goes for you with who you're spending time with.

When planning Travis and Sarah's wedding with Sarah's parents we were sitting around sharing stories. For some reason we talked about the time when Travis was three and he got very sick. After me sleeping at one hospital with him for a week (I couldn't leave such a little one alone!) and him undergoing lots of tests, they sent us to the National Jewish Hospital. They did more tests and were about to diagnose him with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis ...

Travis was unable to walk. Every four hours when the aspirin wore off, he was in pain. I had to do everything for him. His joints hurt too much to crawl. Monte was imagining his little boy not able to run and play and ride a bike, climb trees ... But then after a month, there was a turning point ...

Sarah's mom, Kerry, asked his age again. She was quiet a bit, then said that at about that time she got an urging to pray for the person Sarah would marry. (I always start tearing up at this point.) We never know what praying may be doing, but we have to believe and trust that it is powerful!

For the devotional, I then went on to play a recording of a song Monte wrote about praying for our kids future mates and the hope "that they love Jesus just like I do". We had sung it as a family and captured Dawson's voice at 5 and Travis singing as a teen.

Hardly a dry eye in the room.

Old Fashioned Caramel Frosting

I've loved the flavor of spiced cake and caramel or maple frosting since I was a kid, so my mom always made it for me for my birthday. I carried on that tradition, making it for me from scratch for my birthday since I got married. And like I said in the last posting, where I wrote the cake recipe, my daughter Heather made it for me for this year's birthday when Monte and me arrived at her new home in Texas. She left for me, the frosting to make. 

It's considered a Boiled or Cooked Frosting, and I've been making it from the Joy of Cooking cookbook all these years. But when we moved to 8000 feet elevation in Evergreen, Colorado from Tucson, Arizona, the recipe did not work and I had to do a lot of reading and figuring.

Old-Fashioned Caramel Frosting

In a medium saucepan heat and stir until sugar is dissolved:

2 c packed brown sugar

1 c heavy cream

Cover and simmer for 2 minutes. Spoon down any sugar on the sides of the pan and cook uncovered, hardly stirring, until the syrup reaches 238 degrees. Remove from the heat and add, without stirring:

3 Tb butter (unsalted if you have it)

Set aside, without stirring, until the mixture cools to 110 degrees and stir in:

1 tsp vanilla.

The 238 degrees is where I had to change the recipe (and it has an optional addition of rum flavoring which I don't like). It was in the Joy of Cooking's "Know Your Ingredients" chapter, and maybe under making candy, and maybe even canning, that I figured it out. Cooking and canning temperatures and timings are set for sea level. At 8000 ft I had to lower the temperature to 18_ degrees (I'm not at home with my cookbook and notes. But at my elevation, boiling water temp is at 186, which means 20 minutes of waterbath canning time stretches out to 46 minutes for me! And I think when making candy, that soft-ball stage at 238 has to lower about 2 degrees per thousand ft or is it hundreds?)

Once the frosting is cooled and vanilla added you beat it with a hand mixer in the pan (or you have to transfer it to a mixing bowl) till it gets thickened creamy.

The recipe actually makes more frosting than the cake needs, but my kids always wanted the extra to add to their cake slices or spread on ginger cookies or graham crackers. Yummm ....

In Ogema, Wisconsin, Monte's Aunt Ruby makes this cake frosting. Even last year she had it at an event and I recognized it and we talked about it. She says it's everybody's favorite. Aunt Ruby is the only other person I know who makes it. She raised her family on a dairy farm, so you know her cream had to be the BEST ever! 

Self Improvement?

With every New Year there's a focus on self-improvement. I was reminded of what sits in my pantry as I read an article ...

There's this visual used in many varieties of settings. I've used it myself when I've spoken around the country. I used a large plastic gallon jar and had put very large rocks in it. The example I read this morning had golf balls in a mayonnaise jar. Then we ask, "Is it full?" and the response is, "Yes". I then filled it with gravel, the article- marbles, and "Yes, it's full" is the response again. Then we fill the jar with sand. The response is not quite so sure any more. I poured in water, the article poured in beer - then the jar is full.

Most of us have seen this illustration and know the right answers, but in the reality of daily living our lives answer this visual with, "In all the busyness of life we can always squeeze in more."

I had my old plastic jar with rocks visual sitting around ... I like visual reminders for reminding my heart. One look at the jar and I remember what's most important in my life that I need to make sure I squeeze in first, for my sanity or to be a better person.

One day, looking at that all grey jar, I thought, "That's ugly! That doesn't represent me! I'm made in the image of God who created gorgeous birds, butterflies and animals ... created exotic fruits and vegetables, beautiful sunrises ... all for our enjoyment. I'm a child of God!" I wanted a beautiful jar to look at, full of color!

I can't just end the illustration here. People want to know what I named my stuff in the jar. The sand is all the small stuff in life, like the squeaky wheels demanding attention, and this is what we tend to most. But if the jar is full of sand, we can't then put in the marbles or golf balls.

I share a piece of my life's story with this illustration: for the first third of our marriage I/we (when the kids came along) traveled with Monte as he did his geology, traveling primarily all over the western US, back roads, staying in cabins or kitchenettes. We'd be gone a week, home a couple weeks, then gone again. 

This is the time in one's life when they are establishing patterns, like organizing a home for best functioning and establishing a maintenance program. This traveling lifestyle forced the large important pieces into my life's jar. I had to say no to many things people fill (maybe clutter) their lives with. "No" to long term commitments, committees, sports, music/dance/etc lessons ...

When we stopped traveling ... I was overwhelmed and lost. I knew what life felt like, what I called "beyond maintenance", so I knew what I was missing. But I had never evaluated or named the important things to me in life. I didn't want to just maintain or just survive (tho there's times for that).

Most important in life? Family, health, passions and friends. If everything else is lost and only they remain, our life will still be full. The marbles/gravel represent other big things in life like jobs, house and vehicles ...

We do have a choice (usually). We should be able to control our reactions to outside forces and how we spend our time. There will always be time to clean the house or fix the disposal. We can choose to nurture relationships, take walks, control media. Talk, think, ponder, laugh, and love. It's our choice.

Years ago when I was pondering this message, Monte's dad and I were sitting in his living room and I was looking out the window at the woods. They had recently clear-cut, how they log in Wisconsin, and I couldn't get over how quickly the woods re-grew. Emery made a profound statement: "There are so many seeds laying dormant in the ground just waiting for the right conditions to spring to life."

Cleared for the sun to shine through and not be crowded, and then moisture, allows the seeds to grow. I thought about lives. How many seeds lay dormant in our lives, seeds of creativity ... All they need, to burst forth with life, is a little clearing.

I'm again re-evaluating what I need to remember and do for improvement in 2009.

Photos

I posted more photos on my photoblog - of Christmas.

Fish Tacos

I think I've perfected a recipe for Fish Tacos - that we like! Monte's had them in both California and Canada; I've had them at the fast food Wahoo's Fish Taco. I crave them. I've posted before about every time I'm out by the airport I'm wanting a wahoo taco! And I'm starting to see more restaurants around Denver open up (they originated in California).

Though some recipes batter and fry the fish. Traditional Mexican fish tacos are charbroiled. So broil or grill a firm white fish (mahi-mahi, wahoo, swordfish, tilapia ...). I put some hickory sawdust in the grill to provide a smoky flavor, and oil the fish while grilling. Allow about 1/2 lb of fish per person.

Then they are traditionally served with thinly sliced cabbage and a fresh salsa.
Fresh Salsa -
3-4 tomatoes, diced fine
1-2 red onions, diced fine
(I quarter these, leaving the root intact, and grill while the grill is preheating and cooking the fish)
1-2 jalepenos, finely diced (I'm preferring the canned pickled ones now)
1 bunch cilantro, the leaves finely chopped
1 lime juiced
1 tsp freshly grd sea salt and pepper

The corn tortillas are freshly made - 3-4 per person. So refrigerated ones need to be warmed: wrap in foil and keep turning on grill while grilling. (Sometimes I quick fry them soft, in heated oil.)

Monte's going to read this and say, "Why didn't you say what I like to do?!" So I'll write it. He sits at our kitchen table by the toaster. Whether the tortillas are just warmed to soften or quick fried, he likes to fold them and put them in the toaster, watching them (baby-ing them!) till barely browning. Then too, he's going to say, "Why didn't you tell them what I made?" Okay. He was served tacos in Canada in taco holders. So he pounded nails in a little strip of wood to hold two tacos for filling ease.

A recipe suggested sour cream mixed with a chopped chipotle chili in adobo, another suggested Ranch Dressing. Since we love avacado, i mash one, and since the fresh salsa creates juices, I pour some of them into the avacado. I just use plain sour cream, but think the chipotle flavoring sounds good and will try it sometime.

I'm getting hungry writing this. I think I'll eat the leftover's for lunch!

Wedding Anniversary Reminiscing

Today, one year ago, our Heather married Bill Lavender II in Texas, just a few days after his coming home from Iraq. So, it's been picture day today. I almost never post pictures on my photoblog, but am going back through certain things I want to save on specific days for remembering. It's the same photoblog Dawson has posted on daily for more than a year and I've made mentions of and links to occasionally.

Well go to my photoblog and look back at Heather's shower and then wedding pictures a years ago. Thanksgiving this year with the whole family together is there. My day with my family together in Tucson is there.

Going to the Thanksgiving pictures, you can see Heather pregnant. Their baby, William Lavender III, is due January 18. My birthday is the 13th ... we'll see. Since we were all together on that day, we captured a family picture! not easy these days.

Monte's been in Norway this week. The ocean buffers the temps where he is, so it's been colder here - record breaking!! They do say if the temps stay below freezing a couple weeks it'll kill the pine beetle that's killing our woods - ugly mountain sides of brown! He calls me everyday around late morning - 8 hours ahead, he's finishing up at meetings and back at the hotel readying for supper. So right now ... he's sleeping!

Advent Basket Day 12 & Happenings

I'm going to be leaving tomorrow morning early to take Monte and Kimberley to the airport. They are flying to Norway. Kimberley and her husband Paul are from Calgary, Canada, and have been here before, and on geology field trips with Monte and Stan. Paul is a professor, and Kimberley returned to college and just graduated in geology, and the Norwegians want her to come over to Norway cuz she's being hired to help in their Calgary office. Kimberley is delightful, and I'm thinking they just want to have her bubbly personality as a part of the team, not to mention her brilliant brain!

So I'll be (almost - today is Dawson's last day of college and he'll be around off and on) home alone for awhile. I always enjoy these times of aloneness. I do the hermit, contemplative thing quite well.

Heather called from Texas today to ask me about making gingerbread houses. She's about to do it with a friend. We did it when they were growing up, always on the lookout for candy and things that would be cool for decorating. Like Triscit or Wheat Thin crackers for roof shingles, or straight pretzels for log cabin look or fencing. Great memories.

Advent day 12's scripture read is Philippians 2:1-11. The miniature is a cross. The paper says, "This reminds us of Jesus' love."

Advent Basket Day 8

As we feel our Advent bags, trying to guess what's inside, most of the items have a hardness to them. Today's bag is squishy soft (other than the slip of paper). Day 8 has two cotton balls in it. Maybe you're starting to catch on, but my Advent Basket days, as we're waiting for the coming of the Messiah, remembering His entering our history, our chronos time, are focused on Jesus' Ministry.

Two cotton balls? Well, we already encountered one account of Jesus healing a deaf person's ears. That would be my first guess. What else might cotton balls be for? I may not have cotton balls on hand, but I've wadded up Kleenex to put in my ears if there's a cold wind ...

Matthew 8:23-27 is the suggested scripture read for the day and the paper says, "Cotton can muffle loud noises when in our ears. Some one controls the weather."

I sat with the three gospel accounts. John has the time Jesus walked on water. The phrases that popped out at me were: "Do not be afraid ... Have you no faith? ... Why can't you trust Me?"

St Nicholas

Last night driving, Monte and me saw Mr and Mrs Santa Claus on a motorcycle in busy downtown Evergreen. I remembered reading that this was the night children could come see Santa. And then the other day at the Post Office, the postal worker was directing a mom and her kids to a box in the foyer for letters to Santa that went directly to the North Pole.

I've talked on my "Cycle of Celebrations" stuff across the country for quite some years now. I take a filled Christmas stocking along as a visual aid. I talk about the value of story and that the Bible mentions remembering the stories ... "tell the children ... that the grandchildren will know ... pass it on" ... over 300+ times. I researched Christian holidays, Jewish festivals, and then on to Saint Days.

I did not grow up with much of this and thought saint stuff was just Catholic. But it's all a part of church history. We have the Old and the New Testaments with their stories, and then what I call the Third Testament, carries on the stories. The apostle Paul refers to all of us believers as saints.

The Church for years started putting these stories on the Calendar. The dates are the people's death days - thus thought to be their Heaven birth dates. When Protestantism took off they threw out the calendar, as they did with so much (you know, the 'baby out with the bathwater' phrase).

As a result, since the St Nicholas story was not told for many generations, we end up with Santa Claus along with Jesus on Christmas. Instead, on December 6, we put up socks and fill them with stuff that reminds us of the real St Nicholas story and celebrate. We don't have to fear all the Santa stuff, just feel sad about the missing pieces of the whole story.

St Nicholas was a real person from present-day Turkey (288-354). He had lived through much persecution as a Christian and lived to see Christianity become the empire religion under Constantine. It's rumored he was at the Council of Nicea, where he was condemning the heresy of Arianism (not believing in the deity of Jesus). It's also said he slapped the heretic Arius.

There's SO many stories surrounding St Nicholas. The one he's most noted for is him throwing coins in a window, landing in socks hanging to dry, of a family who lost everything and the girls were going to give themselves to prostitution to make money. Nicholas employed people to make wooden toys to give away, and food - like ginger cookies, and even gave gifts of clothing. So these are things we put in the stockings: chocolate candy coins, ginger cookies, fruit, mittens or socks, and something wooden. So I'm always on the lookout for wooden toys and the candy coins. As Heather got older, I gave her wooden kitchen tools.

There's lots of silly stories (hagiography) ... but who knows. In those days people had eyes to see miracles. Do we look for miracles in our everyday - like God 'winks'? People used to wake up and say, "This is so-and-so's day" and remember their stories. If God was there for them, then he's here for us too. We wake up and it's just another Monday, or Friday, or Sunday. Our calendar days could be rich with stories - a Story Calendar.

Many saint stories are wild. Like maybe close to being heretics walking the edge over a precipice. But they are humans who hear the Gospel and walk it uniquely for their place and time. If not for them we'd not have much learning and healing institutions and inner city care. We'd not have kings, rulers, and church leadership hearing the Truth.

So use this day to celebrate and tell the real story of Santa Claus (who the Dutch brought to our country and it grew from there). Then the rest of December when people ask, "did you tell Santa what you want?" we can say, "his name is St Nicholas, and he's already been to our house". Then he's separated from Jesus.

Some have said, "I'm not going to tell my kids about Santa, cuz then they'll think Jesus is a myth too." Well I heard of a 10 year old telling college kids that he knew about Santa Claus, like he knew about elves, the easter bunny, and other pretend things. "I never got him mixed up with Jesus because I could tell from the way my parents talked and acted all year long that Jesus was true."

One year when we lived in Tucson, Monte took ashes from the fireplace and drew ash footprints coming out into the living room. We had left milk and cookies for Santa. At 31 and 29, I don't think Heather and Travis are psychologically crippled. Actually their sense of wonder (next to worship) is alive and well. Memories are the library of the soul.

Enjoy the cute books. I found that JRR Tolkien had written Father Christmas letters to his kids, and all his illustrations along with the 20 some years of letters are all in a fun book: Father Christmas Letters.

Sing the song "You better watch out ..." and then talk about the message of 'naughty or nice'. Because in Jesus, God gives salvation and adoption into the trinity family as a gift. We do not earn it.

"The giver of every good and perfect gift has called upon us to mimic His giving, by grace, through faith, and this not of ourselves," said Nicholas.

"We who still enjoy fairy tales have less reason to wish actual childhood back. We have kept its pleasures and added some grown-up ones as well." - CSLewis

"Come to me as a child," says Jesus.

Advent Basket Day 2

My Advent Basket Day 2 bag miniature is a pop bottle of Coke. The little parchment paper says, "This can quench thirst" and says to read John 4:7-14. And then we talk about how Jesus can quench thirsts.

Rereading the story, I'm reminded of a piece of my own story. It's a time when Jesus showed up and audibly spoke to me!

I did a felted work I call "My Life's Journey". It's inspiration came following my sitting with Psalm 107 and 116. 

This is what I journaled -

I chose. I questioned. I bargained with God.

I turned my back on Him and wanted Him dead to me.

I wandered in the desert and dwelt in darkness.

I became sick and desired death.

I called out to God.

He got me out and put my feet on a wonderful road.

God received me back into His womb.

I was rebirthed in His image,

to the very origins of His being.

Another desert -

"Anyone who comes to me thirsts no more".

Set sail in big ships put out to sea.

Bottom dropped out and my soul melted in misery.

He quieted the wind to a whisper, led me to safety.

He led me out of my dark, dark cell.

I didn't wander away,

I was crying out to God!

Then I started drawing hearts -

Keep (heart) ... remember

Don't lose (heart)

I don't want to journey without my (heart)

(Heart's) desire is precious - guard it

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst

Return to your rest, O my soul.

I am standing in the Presence of God.

Alive in the land of the Living!

Reading and journaling is the way God usually speaks to me. But when did He audibly speak to me? It was a setting like in the classic Christian book Hinds Feet in High Places. The kids and me were traveling with Monte. The kids were playing in the back seat and Monte had parked the vehicle by the road-cut at the side of the road while off mapping and collecting rock samples - doing his geology.

I'd been in a depression. I could function in life, but felt I was barely floating above the surface of life, not feeling. I was looking at the dry dirt roadcut out the window and heard a trickle of water. Looking, I saw a small flower. That's when God spoke, reminding me that in His generosity, He gives fresh, living water - gushing living life!

So my Art piece has a stream of water flowing through it. It goes through the desert three times. The first time was a self-imposed desert. I decided the other two were God tapping me on the shoulder saying, "Hey, I want to give you more of Myself!" Then He led me out into the wild water. But if I don't retreat regularly to a calm harbor, I'd go crazy!