Flashback Friday: Old Blue

Growing up we had several cars that I would not have considered to be "well running vehicles". There was the white station wagon with the driver's side window that didn't roll down and a broken left turn signal-good luck making that turn; the green Datsun that honked all by itself when making a left turn unless a piece of paper was wedged in the steering wheel; the brown Corolla with the gas pedal that stuck; and my personal favorite: Old Blue.

Old Blue was a cut above the other vehicles we owned. It had enough seating for all us, who could resist that seat in the 'way back' that faced oncoming traffic. Can't imagine why I get car sick so easily, you'd think a childhood of not being able look out the front window of a vehicle would have made me immune to that. Ok, back to Old Blue. The thin lining that covered the padded ceiling was too much for seven kids to resist. We poked at it and practiced making letters with our fingernails until it finally began to come loose and eventually just hang down in various places.

The lovely interior was nothing compared to the engine. It blew up in the first week we owned the thing and dad replaced it with a used engine. Since it was a minimum forty mile round trip to get to town from our house and back, it didn't last long.

The five of us younger kids took roller skating lessons for several years. Every once in while we performed in competitions that took us from our "home" skating rink to another. This particular competition was in southeast San Diego, not exactly the best part of town, but we were just headed to the rink, no problem. The rink was pretty old and was built with two poles centered in each half of the rink (for support?), so we were encouraged to practice there before the competition.

My saint of a mother loaded us five kids up in Old Blue drove forever to get there, patiently watched us practice, loaded us back up in Old Blue and headed back home. Until Old Blue decided to die. Mom managed to pull into a gas station before all power was gone and went to call dad. We knew we were in a bad part of town, but didn't realize how bad until mom headed to the pay phone (a cell phone would have been really useful back then!). There was a car full of what I would now consider to be "thugs", who told mom she couldn't use that phone. There must have been a drug deal going down and evidently mom was getting in the way of it (I'm sure they're thankful for cell phones now too!). Since there happened to be two pay phones, mom sweetly asked for permission to use the other public pay phone to which they nodded yes. How generous.

After getting a hold of dad, who was very nonchalant about the whole thing, mom told us he would be coming to our rescue. Did I mention it was a very hot summer day? Yes, very hot, so our sweet mother got out of the car, again, passed the 'nice' young men still waiting on their important call, made it into the store and bought us all something to drink. She dolled out the goods when she came back and I firmly passed on the orange soda. See, I was a bit of a hypochondriac and was positive they poisoned the beverages inside the store. We're talking an aluminum can of carbonated soda, something we never had at home, but I was sure it had somehow been tampered with and would lead me to a slow, painful death. I had also insisted mom roll the windows up and lock the doors; a notion she flatly refused, based on the fact that we would suffocated in the heat. So they came down, an inch. Apparently that sort of death seemed more appealing to me and I was willing to take the chance.

The minutes ticked by for what seemed like an eternity. Mom kept insisting I stop saying we were all going to wind up on the five o'clock news as "drive by" victims (maybe those weren't the exact words, but you get the idea). Finally, dad showed up, or should I say, strolled up and managed to fix car enough to get us back up the hill. Never was I so happy to get a drink of water that I knew wasn't tainted with poison and not have keep a continual 360 degree view of my surroundings "just in case".

We did go back to the skating rink for the competition, but this time dad drove. Old Blue ran just fine for him though, something about Murphy's Law I suppose.

The moral of this flashback: When driving an unreliable car, be prepared to pray continually and keep a bottle of your own beverage availablein the vehicle-just in case.

Wordless Wednesday... Are the starfish "cherishing the little hands"?

Worms, the pizza guy, March Madness....what's going on?

Happy Monday! The weather is beautiful today and that can only mean one thing: yard work. Yes, it's time to start biting the bullet and clean up the leftover leaves from fall and work on that lawn. Ok, so it's more of a weed patch in some areas than a lawn, but this is our first spring in this house, so here we go....

Saturday the kids and I spent the entire day outside enjoying the sunshine. With my trusty rake in hand, I filled eight of those large yellow trash bags with leaves and such-my hamstrings are killing me today!! In the process, we came upon some earthworms which the kids had to play with. They named the largest (the biggest one I'd ever seen in the "wild") 'big daddy worm' and all the others mommy or grandma worms. It was pretty cute, although I'm sure the worms didn't enjoy the waggon ride as much as the kids.

We had Friday night pizza and "movie" (basketball) at D & L, they had an uncle in town and we wan't to spend some time with him (awesome guy!). Usually we make pizza, but decided to go pick it up to save time. We go to this place close by that has 5.99 hot and ready specials and I had to wait about ten minutes (no big deal) for the pizza. So when the guy hands me my pizza's he gives me a free chocolate chip cookie for "the long wait". Ok, pizza guy, you're the best! How did he know choc chip cookies were my fave, fav, fave, fave cookie in the whole world??? I would have waited twenty minutes for that giant soft delicious cookie. Mmmmmm.

If you would have asked me a couple of years ago what March Madness was, I would have responded with the following, "a big sale at Macy's?". Well, I've come to find out that it is a huge basketball tournament, which Randy and his brothers make 'picks' on each year. This year, Randy begged me to make 'picks', "come on hon, it'll be fun, I'll even help you with your picks". Ok. So I make my picks-all by myself-simply going off of what team names I recognize and what sounded good; and guess what? I am totally winning so far, by a mile in fact. Something tells me they won't ask me back next year.....

One thing is for sure, I'm glad Randy's back from Dallas and Paula's back from San Diego-let's get things back to normal?!?, please!!
P.S. Go Ohio!!! (look, it's worth a new pair of shoes, ok?)

Flashback Friday: Summers in Wisconsin

Every summer (with the exception of having Ashlynn & Gage in July) we spend a couple of weeks in Wisconsin (Randy's birthplace through age twelve) at his grandparents cabin on a lake.
Memories:
1. Someone in the caravan of cars from here to there has broken down on the way up and the way back-EVERY TIME.
2. One of the most beautiful places on earth, once you get there!
2. Randy down to his "chunders" to retrieve his spendy fishing pliers from the bottom of lake: "Babe, I can see them ten feet down. No problem". If I had a scanner you would see the picture :-)!
3. Me having to use a five gallon bucket as my "bathroom" on a canoe at lake. Seems rowing to shore would have been too much trouble and time taken away from catching the "big one".
4. Outfishing Randy on the St Croix for small mouth bass :-).
5. Randy leaning over to help bring a fish into the boat and dropping his truck keys into the lake. Getting down to his "chunders" wouldn't have helped, there was no visibility in that lake. Can someone say locksmith?
6. Grandpa Fred, his hat high upon his head, tilted slightly to the side; a sparkle in his eye, a bounce in his step and a smile always on his face.
7. Campfires and marshmallows.
8. The "girls" singing God Bless America a capella on the 4th.
9. Grandma Larson always "welcoming home the children", beating everyone at skipbo, dancing with Ashlynn and encouraging everyone to "just have fun".
10. Dale, Linda, "the boys", Sandra, Coleen, David, Jake, Bonnie, Brett and Blake.
11. Home cooking for every meal, Swedish pancakes anyone? mmmmm...
12. Swimming across the lake, at least once every year.
13. Golfing with deer as your audience.
14. Lazy summer days watching the lake and the kids play along the shore, is it July yet????

the Moral of this flashback: Cherish and enjoy every minute with the ones you love, especially those you don't get to see all the time. Life is waaaay too short!

We miss you Grandpa Larson and know we will one day see your bright, shining face again!

Good Fun

For my birthday (last Dec!), mom gave me a gift certificate for semi-private lessons with an amazing seamstress at her sewing studio and shop. I love to sew and have been at it for about eight years now, but I needed some guidance with fit and pattern construction (as my skills are lacking in that area). The teacher is so creative and was able to help me make up a pattern for a shirt in no time.
My mind is so full of ideas for patterns, but actually getting them out and working has always been the problem. After a couple of hours she helped put sparks in my brain and made it look so easy to follow through with my thoughts. I can't wait to continue and expand with the info she gave me.
Ok, that my sound truly boring to a lot of you, but I really need to get with a hobby around here. Sewing (mainly garmet construction) has been my main interest since I started and I think it will be a good outlet for a couple hours each evening-hey, beats sitting in front of the TV!!

I'll post a picture of the shirt when I am finished!!

Thanks again mom!!!!!!

Mimi & Papa's

Here are some of the pictures from our trip to Mimi & Papa's last week!


The kids and I exploring


Papa and Gage man


Mom, Ryde and the cow


Ashlynn playing with Kit


"Cousins" (l to r) Paula, Mandy, me, Jake (holding Ryde), Justin


Mom, Papa, Mimi, kids and I

We had such a great time and always love to be there. Hopefully they look forward to having us as much as we like to visit...... :-)!

Wordless Wednesday... Who's the kangaroo here??

Flashback Friday: The Water Truck

When Randy and I first moved to Kansas, we rented a little house that his parents had remodeled. There was one, ok, maybe two conditions that we had to consider: a) They lived next door (now, I LOVE my in-laws, but not so much as neighbors when we hadn't been married quite a year yet); b) There wasn't exactly running water, in the sense that it didn't come from the city or a well. Instead, you actually had to go get your water and put it into a cistern. Which, ofcourse, required the water truck.

Normally Randy or Dale (my F-I-L) would go get the water, so it never seemed to be much of an issue until one day. Randy was on shift at the fire station and Dale & Linda were out of town. It was a Friday, it was hot and I wasn't happy to be in the position of driving the truck. Which meant attempting to get the hose into the tank, fill it, shut it back off, drive back to the house, hook up to the cistern and unload the water.

I carefully enlisted Dustin (Randy's younger brother who was 13 at the time) to assist me in the retrieval of the precious commodity I had previously taken for granted. We were a great team at the "fill station" and had no problems, until we headed home that is.

Now I know when you think of Kansas you probably think 'flat', right? Western Kansas, yes, eastern Kansas close to the Missouri line, no. There were two steep hills we had to go up and down to get back to the house. They also were very curvy, being called "switchback" roads (I overheard someone say that once). Ok, back to the water truck, we're full now don't forget.

We creep down the first hill and around the bend, as we begin our climb up the next hill the engine decides to die. Dustin looks at me with great confidence and encourages me to just start it back up. Riiiight. Not working at all, I mean this thing had no power, as if the battery was drained completely. And here we were on that hill making Friday traffic worse than it already was until our first form of help arrived.

You could hear the roar of their engine as they were coming up the hill. Three high school kids in their refurbished Chevy Nova stopped to see if they could give us a jump. They proceeded to turn around into on coming traffic (they had to face the truck to give it a jump ofcourse!) and attempted to get the engine running. Three tries, no dice.

Now, you might wonder why I didn't call someone I knew right? Hello we're talking 1998: every man, woman and chlid wasn't carrying a cell phone then.

These guys decided on plan B. They would stop traffic both ways and push the truck back down the hill into the cul-de-sac at the bottom to the left. Not only was this crazy, but it also required me to be in the vehicle to steer and I couldn't just leave Dustin out on the street. When you don't have any better plan though, you go with what "might" work. They stood out on the street like traffic cops and pushed the truck like it wasn't filled with 500 gallons of water. Somehow, I manged to steer it into the cul-de-sac, without hitting any mailboxes, and came to a stop. The bewildered homeowner, whose driveway I was now blocking, came out to see if they could help and offered to let us use their phone. I'm sure they wanted to help, but I'm more certain they wanted the ugly beast brown truck out from in front of their lovely home.

My option: Call Randy at work-who else was I going to call? He hadn't been working for that fire department very long, so he couldn't just leave to come help us. Thankfully, Randy's aunt and uncle had moved to Kansas as well, so he put a call in to Uncle David.

I was never so happy to see a familiar face in all my life when David showed up. He muttered some things under his breath about the water truck, but was quite calm when he laid out his plan. "We hook the water truck up to my truck and we'll get you home". Ok, riiight. Again this requires me (I was 19 at the time) to DRIVE the truck with no power (that = no brakes people!). David reassures me with the option to just "run into the back of my truck if you lose the brakes". Umm, ok.

He hooks me up and takes off, and I mean takes off. I go flying over the curb and hit my head on the ceiling (there were no seat belts in the truck) and just keep praying I don't have to ram the back of his nice truck. The rest of the trip home is a little fuzzy in my memory due to the high stress of the situation, but pushing the useless brakes to the floorboard is still in there. We made it, however, and we didn't crash!

I vowed to never get water again, though I rode with Randy another time and we, you guessed it, broke down on a hill. That time Dale was home and came and fixed it, no problem. It definitely was not the adventure Dustin, David and I had once upon a time in Kansas.

The moral of this flashback: Sometimes common sense doesn't work and you have to do things "unconventionally".
P.S. Thanks Uncle David!!!

Hmmm...

Either I'm technically challenged or my blog host is not working. I have not been able to download pictures for the last couple of days!! When I get the chance I 'll share some pics of our time down at Mimi and Papa's last w/e; Mom was here and we all drove down together-what a great time!!

The kids love going down there. The animals, cousins, 'coffee' with Mimi, watching TV with Papa, Saturday night pizza, chocolate covered strawberries and Torte cake for dessert-just to name a few of their favorite things!

It was nice to have Mom with us this time too! She is always great at entertaining us, thanks mom :-). It was just a great time! And I promise, pictures to follow when I can get them to work.



*I have already shushed once today, but I have been doing good otherwise-it's only 8:30am though, so we'll see......

Shhhhhh....

If you have children, I wonder, do you find yourself saying "shhhh" all day?? "The baby is sleeping, shhh", "I'm on the phone, shhhh"; "I'm right in the middle of something very important, shhhh"; "can you guys be quiet for a second, shhhh". These are all part of my vocabulary and I use them often. Maybe too often.

Lately, I've been wondering what I'm "shushing". Could it be some creative, thought provoking idea from Ashlynn (she amazes me often!)? A cute story and laugh from Ryder? Why am I always shushing them; am I letting household chores and "grown-up" obligations rob me of precious moments with my kids?

I have determined to designate Thursday to be a shush free day in my house. It's not that I want my kids to run the place, I certainly am not going to throw obedience, responsibility and discipline out the window here. But, I want to hear more of what my kids have to say and think. Their words may very well be foolish and childish, what a great learning opportunity then! I figure if I'm always too busy to listen to them, I'll always be too busy to teach to them. And isn't that part of what God has called me to do as a mother?

I'll let you know how it goes....

Flashback Friday: Ashlynn.....

Randy and I were talking the other night about how there is nothing like the birth of your first child. The anticipation, the excitement, the wonder, the fear.

Ashlynn was due in June, the 27th to be exact, one day before our fifth wedding anniversary. That day came and went, still no baby (boy or girl, we didn't know). The doctor wanted to induce labor, I resisted. Randy and I had decided on the Bradley Method of childbirth and that wasn't part of the "plan". We were anxious though, and waiting was so difficult. That Sunday, we went forward for prayer at church. Not knowing our exact desires, they prayed for a natural and blessed birth for our baby-just as we had been.

Monday morning Mom, Linda(Randy's mom) and I decided to head to Lawrence (a college town close by that has some cute shops) for a distraction. We were home by 2:00 and my contractions decided to start at 3:30. I distinctly remember the first one; I was laying on the couch watching 'That Touch of Mink' (Doris Day) and I looked at my mom and said "It's a real one, I know it". We were so excited that it was finally starting, we tried to finish the movie but I couldn't concentrate at all. We went for a walk instead and let a few neighbors know that I was in labor so they could take care of our dog, Ember.

After trying to time the contractions on her watch, mom suggested we go get a stop watch. "That's what your dad always did for me, it really helped, I promise". Having birthed seven children, I decided to take her word for it. We piled into the car with our hospital bags, just in case, and headed to the sporting goods store for a stop watch.

Randy, figuring it would be his last meal for a while, decided he would hit Chipotle's and pick up a burrito (more on that in a second). Mom decided she wanted to get a coffee at Panera's next door. And me, yeah, I was still in labor. There was mom with that stop watch, ordering:
"Cafe mocha, please."
"Oh wow, that was a long one Elizabeth, a minute and a half."
"Just the small, no whip cream."
"Another one, boy, they're getting close, only two minutes between those ones."
"Do you have any other muffins."
"What, another one? Oh my, they are really getting close."
"No, that's to go please, thanks."
"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?"
Um, I'm having contractions two mintues apart that are lasting a minute and half and worried about my water breaking on Panera's tile floor, no thanks.

We hook back up with Randy and his burrito, which is no smaller than a Women's size ten shoe, and head to the hospital at mom's urging.

We were at 119th Street, the hospital was at 75th Street. Randy had that shoe size burrito finished before we even took the exit, can someone say "nerves"?

They checked us into the hospital at 7:00pm and we decided to walk the halls to speed my labor. For every contraction I asked Randy to rub my back. He "claims" he had to keep a light jog every time that happened as my pace quickened with the pain. He also "claims" we walked the halls so fast in those three hours that they had to replace the carpet when we were done (they had replaced it whith laminate flooring when we went back for Ryder's birth, hmmm).

By 10:00pm I was in a lot of pain and ended up in the hospital bed squeezing, ok, clawing at Randy's hand. He was a trooper the whole time. Reassuring me "honey, you can do it, your doing awesome". I pretty much phased everyone out that last hour and was just really happy to hear it was time to push. Mom had previously assured me that "it always feels better when you get to push, I promise". Oh really? Can't say that was the case for me, but eleven minutes and several pushes later we had a girl. Six pounds, ten ounces; comepletely and totally perfect. Well, ok, with the exception of a major case of conehead. For which mom promtly purchased a cute little hat to cover for the pictures. Also assuring me "it will go down, I promise". It did.

It turned out to be a truly amazing and blessed experience, albeit, not without pain. Randy was the most incredible coach I could have imagined and we were filled with such joy to have Ashlynn Faith in our arms at last.

The moral of this flashback: It's two-fold: 1) when your mom says "I promise" it might not always be the case. 2) Childbirth is painful, I don't blame anyone for taking an epidural (not that natural wasn't great for us, but it might have saved the hospital flooring and a hand, or two-Randy "claims").

Wordless Wednesday... Do you see what I see?

Flashback Friday: Growing up in the Country

Being back home this week brought back a flood of memories from growing up in the mountains. It seemed as though we lived in a different world; it was peaceful, beautiful and fun. Most would imagine San Diego as all city life and the beach, but, I actually didn't live in the "city" until I married and moved to Kansas City.

Four of my six siblings and I were homeschooled and we made the backyard our playground. We owned eight acres that backed up to Cleavland National Forest-beautiful untouched mountains. The only neighbors we had were a good walk down the dirt road, so we explored freely. Dad built our house on a 'pad' cut on the land; on a clear day you could see the ocean. There was a valley to the east with what was named "Boot Hill" just beyond that; when it rained heavily there was a little creek that ran at it's base. What adventures we had out there.

Every morning we would wake up around 6:45am so we could have some time outside before school started. One 'project' that sticks out in my mind was the trail we made to the top of the mountain. We cut at least a three foot wide trail from the base of the tall mountain that sat directly behind or house, all the way up; you could see the world from there. We had pit stops along the way and even deemed one of the sage bushes to be "gum tree". We would attach any chewed gum to its branches in hopes that it would somehow reproduce. I don't recall if we ate the gum again, but it wouldn't surprise me. Day after day we labored on our trail and never did we run into a rattlesnake. That, I now consider a miracle; mom must have been on her knees praying for us. Rattlesnakes were very common in the mountains, especially with all the rock moving we did. As a parent now myself, I can't believe how at ease mom was with us; I probably would have been a nervous wreck!

Another 'project' I recall were our "bomb shelters", we made two. The first was up the hill on flat ground. We dug this huge hole, put a piece of plywood over it and covered it with dirt. This shelter came fully equipped with a living room, bedroom and bathroom facility; home away from home. For the second shelter, we literally dug a hole into the side of the mountain large enough for us to fit in. This one was more unstable and eventually caved in, but oh, we had a blast playing in them!

We often pretended to be early American explorers and always hoped to come across gold in the creek or Indian arrows under rocks. The soil was composed mainly of granite, and we thought there might be some value in it; we never got rich off of it though. We could pass hours playing make believe on that land and we didn't tire doing it-ever.

We may not have discovered gold or any other "amazing" find, but we were wealthy. We had so much freedom to imagine and create with one another; I will keep those cherished moment in my memory banks until my life is through. I can only hope that my kids can share in the adventure and wonder of childhood as I did, with unabandoned passion to make believe.

The moral of the flashback: Enjoy being a kid, it goes by fast.